"Tonight everything is over...I feel too young" - Phoenix, Too Young (Lost in Translation)
TWOpointFIVE (now, officially, TWOpointSIX) had a birthday extravaganza at The Dime featuring DJ Hoov on the ones and twos and Austin from Days of Our Lives as the door man. I ran into an old friend, El Jefe, but mostly chilled in the corner with The Lovely Miss Anna Baby explaining who was who and what drama was going on and laughing with the very drunk birthday girl as she relayed tales of her current boy dilemmas. Two boys, best friends, one TWOpointSIX. Oh, the hilarity. I think I was getting hit on by a blast from the past but I was kind of not about it. And, come to think of it, I think she might have had a boob job in the past 8 months. That hug was a lot, uh, firmer than I remember.
Sunday Morning: On three hours of sleep and with a wicked nice pseudo hangover (a little grogginess but no real ill-effects), we ran 6 miles. I could've done the eight but a certain redhead is lagging. I'm just saying. Lovely breakfast, though, at Babalu with special guest stars Coconut Mango French Toast, discussions of Venereal Disease, and Lisa Breckenridge from FOX 11 news. She's cute. I like her so much more than the insufferable Dorothy Lucey. I'm still heckuv hungry despite the big meal but that has more to do with my not eating Saturday night. Oh wait, Saturday...
Saturday: The morning was spent with Bands Reunited which is absolutely the best thing I saw on TV this week. The Berlin and Klymaxx episodes are amazing and I'm really all about Men All Pause and Meeting in the Ladies Room right now. The afternoon was spent shopping for the evening. I had gifts to buy for a housewarming and clothes to buy for an evening of The Sexy. I bought two tees at Groove Riders but they weren't cutting it so I rolled into Buffalo Exchange and got my entire outfit (a Jack Skellington tee that reads "Nightmare", a gray shortsleeve button down and jeans) plus a jacket and some other things for 40 bucks. The check out girl was cuter than she had any right to be with Nightmare Before Christmas Chucks on, a belt with a pirates buckle, dark rimmed glasses and a spike jutting out from just under her lower lip. We got our flirt on. We discussed the wonders of Tim Burton and she told me when she usually works. She ended our sale with a "See you soon, sweetie" and, you know, it was the 30 year anniversary for Buffalo Exchange so I got a 5 dollar off coupon. I will be back to see you soon. Sweetie.
Housewarming party was nice. A lot of work faces and some uncomfortable moments featuring long forgotten folks like Crazy Uncle Andy and The Andujar. I had mentioned to others last year that I thought it would be nice to see Uncle Andy again...yeah, it wasn't. Punk ass mofo. I only stayed for an hour though because I had to pick up The Lovely Miss Anna Baby and
Fellatio (nah, that one's tired, we'll go with Felicity) so that we could make it to Genghis for another fine show with The Red. It's been nearly 6 months since I've seen them perform and they came with several new tracks, a lot harder, a little stronger, and all was very enjoyable but no time to chat because we gotta get to Vermont for big fun.
We rolled up into Los Feliz and the scene was, well, it's electric (boogie woogie woogie). It's the first official Skin to Win night in The Year of The Sexy and The Dancing Brave, Mister Zero, Lazy-Girl, Jem is Excitement and The HSW (whose name might have to change to Boobalicious. She borrowed Jem's "Something to See Here" blouse and proved that she's Half-Boobs-All-Delicious) were all funky fresh dressed to impress ready to party. We roll in and The HSW says, "Gunn is here...and Kiefer." And, you know, I had like 3 grey goose gimlets on the rocks so I can't be sure this is the gospel truth but the rest of the night went something like this...
"Man, motherfuck Gunn. I'll beat his ass. I totally hated this week's Angel." I turned and grabbed a bottle from the bar and broke it. It was time to teach J. August Richards a lesson. What's up with having a month of the year in your name? I'm not down with that shit. But, just as I was about to cut him, Square Biz came on and we decided to have a dance off. I lulled him into false confidence with my Ozone moves from Breakin (not Breakin 2) and then destroyed him with New Edition choreography and The Wop. We didn't spill blood because brothas gotta work it out and we did in a Beat Street Breakdown. Ruh!
Meanwhile, Lazy Girl is showing off her crazy whore shoes and I reveal that I might have a foot fetish but that I won't decide until I'm 30. Jem argues that embracing your fetishes at any time is part of The Sexy. I am about to concur but then she reveals that she kills leopards and wears their pelts as coats and underwear. I also heard, but I didn't see it so I can't confirm, that Kiefer came by and told her that if she would just let him straddle her for like 10 hip gyrations, he could make a quick 50 bucks. She declined, though, because our boy Kiefer was mad fucking drunk.
At 11:42, I'm pretty sure I was rubbing supple parts of both Boobalicious and Lazy-Girl. I'm not going to reveal which parts.
At some point, a man braved our dance brigade and said to me, "Oh it's like that? I ain't mad at you, Chuck." It is like that. And that's right, nephew, don't hate. But let me ask you a question...who the fuck is Chuck? I'm first name Mister, middle name Period, last name (wait for it) Teeeee.
Which, I guess is a good way to pause and announce that I will be having a birthday extravaganza in March. It is titled "Mr. T's Rockin' Eve" (subtitled: How Rockin'? Rokken like Dokken!). We're going back to the mid-eighties. You will dress like you know about Jordache, Z. Cavaricci, Reeboks, parachute pants and zipper jackets. There may be a kilo of coke-like pixie sticks on the table for you to snort. We might have a Dance Fever contest and very special episodes of Diff'rent Strokes, Punky Brewster, and Silver Spoons on the tv screens. If you don't come to my party appropriately fresh, radical, or boss you will be so moded corroded that your head will have exploded. Ooooh face. Don't make me whip it. Whip it, good.
So, we have to make our exit from Vermont because it's late and I'm supposed to be running and Felicity had a hard day working and this is too much party for one night and who do we see outside but our boy Kiefer. Well, first we saw a lady who wasn't in our party but was attempting Skin to Win anyway. Yeah, by the looks of things, she was losing. So, Kiefer comes up to Felicity and says, "Hi!" Now, this wasn't a deep baritone greeting. This was the "Hi" of a giggly junior high school boy who is only 3 days into puberty and the hot substitute teacher has just acknowledged his existence. Felicity responds, "Hey, how are you?" to which Kiefer appropriately replies, "You're fuckin' rockin'!" Which is so very true.
Now, what happened after this I'm a little fuzzy on because I was getting the car but to make a long story shorter yadda yadda yadda this morning Felicity is carrying Kiefer's love child.