Went to Austin last night for happy housr with the Austin Journalers.  I had, for one reason or another, missed the last three gatherings, and not only were there people I wanted to see, but there were new inside jokes forming and I was going to get out of the loop if I didn't sit and drink Pelligrino with them in one of the coolest bars in Austin that I've never been to.

Wow.  That sentence structure would send Mrs. MOndferdini, my seventh grade English teacher into a tizzy.  She'd also demand I use metaphors in some way.  She was into metaphors and similies in a big way, and so my seventh grade writing is like hydra, with her many non-sensical metaphors.

TANGENT ALERT!

So we met at Gingerman, and I was delighted to find eight people there.  Eight people from the journalers... not eight total.  We chatted and drank, drank and chatted.  I'm glad I ate before I got there, because I saw no evidence of food, save the menu on our table that I never opened.  As usual in Austin, the peoplewatching (and by "people," I mean "men") was faboo.  A good time was had by all.

Our group dwindled down to four, and the conversation between Greg and I turned to gaydar, specifically, does his still work? and so we passed the time trying to determine who was and was not gay at Gingerman last night.

As the group broke up, Greg agreed to go across the street with me to Oilcan Harry's for a bit (Yes!  Greg in a gay bar!  Who knew?!)  We had a great conversation and then he left.  Great meeting of the Journalers.

As soon as Greg walked away, I decided that I'd go into this somewhat infamous bar next door called Boyz Cellar, which is totally not my scene, since I am neither 22 years old, tall and skinny in my underwear, nor am I a leachorus old guy with lots of money to spend on said twinks in their underwear.

They were having a BLACKLIGHT party.  I hate blacklight parties because I really don't care to see the lint on my clothing in that much detail, and furthermore, neon bodypaint on twinks?  Not sexy.  Just a bit off, really.  I really was going to walk a lap around the bar and leave (a "fruit loop", for those of you not up on the gay lingo of the early 90s) when I ran into Amos, a very good friend of mine from my Dallas days.  Amos moved back home to care for his dying mother, and we lost touch.  But there he was, with a group of friends from his hometown.

They didn't know Austin very well, which probably explains why they were at Boyz Cellar (The manHo on The Real World Vegas?  Steven?  He used to work there as a bartender in his underwear.  Nuff said.)

I directed Amos and his party to the Chain Drive, where I of course knew two-thirds of the people in the bar.  We chatted, visited a bit, and then we went to IHOP and ate the strange pancakes that had syrup that tasted like suntan lotion on them.  Very odd.  Then I drove home.

Fun, long, crazy night  Tonight, Pride Month continues with a parade in San Antonio!  I'm very excited!  Or maybe I just need more sleep!  Have a great day, everyone!

WOW - Sounds like a good time !!

sorry I missed you guys. I was fried so I didn't go.

IM HAVING SEX RIGHT KNOW