Arches and Columns

Last night, after taking Mark's Tropical Liqueuers virginity, we proceeded to the "other" gay bar in town, Arches and Columns. If one wasn't aware of the orientation of the bar patrons, I think the inflatible pink penis with smily face on the head hanging from the ceiling, or the neon sign proclaiming I "heart" Dick, are not so subtle clues.

I hate to admit it, but I really liked the music they played. It was sufficiently pop-techno-queer. On one particularly bass-heavy groove, there was a noticeable increase in ass shaking among the homos in the small establishment. I commented to Mark that one can tell a gay bar by the immediate reaction to said thumping bass. Mark put on one of his patented smiles and retorted "No, you can tell you're in a gay bar when the fifty-year-old men wear sporty clothes and dance like fourteen-year-old girls!"

Rum Runner at Trops, $5.75. Excellent grasshopper at Arches and Columns, $3.50. An evening with Marky, priceless!

Cuts both ways

Recently I joined Ed and our friend Lane for an adult beverage at our favorite establishment. All three of us were carded. As the boys brought their ID's out, I reached for mine with glee. Thirty is looming ever nearer, so I relish moments like this. Mine was the last one inspected by the waiter. As he peered at my license, a smirk formed that soon erupted into a guffaw. "Old man of the group, eh?" he quipped. My elation at being carded quickly subsided, and I quickly attended the task of saving face. "That means he THOUGHT I was MUCH younger," I shot at Lane and Ed while providing a look that said wipe those grins off your face!

I suppose one is only as old as one feels... or looks... or according to Patrick, one is only as old as one dates. That means I am sixtee... I mean 21, and Ed is 25. Shut up bitches!!

Work of art

I've had the wonderful opportunity to spend some Q-time with Eddy the last few days. The only damper was when someone heisted his wallet at the bowling alley. They made off with 20 bucks cash, but the good news is Mark found the wallet abandoned in the parking lot. Who would upheave someone's life, even if just for a few days, for a mere twenty bucks? Sigh...

I've also been partaking of Star Trek Voyager. Before you go calling me a Trekie, please understand that I do not go to conventions, speak Klingon, or any such nonsense. However, the boon of life that is Voyager provides more than entertainment. It is a probe of humanity, philosophy, and morality in an entertaining format. And it makes me happy, so there!

I attempted my first foray into painting the other day. With Mark's assistance, I came up with something that doesn't totally suck, and I learned a lot. I think this one will end up in the bathroom, however!

The activity prompted the following conversation that I found amusing:

Mark: Now all it needs is something big and angry streaking through the middle of it.

Craig (while contemplating the painting): I think I'm a little more minimalist than that.

Mark: This is your first painting ever. You don't have a style!!

January 2

Today was probably the most beautiful January day. I sat outside during my lunch and basked in a warm sun that felt like the glow of a campfire. Tonight, although crisp and cool, has a myriad of bright stars watched over by a round, bulbous, and incandescent moon. I wonder if my baby noticed them, and I wonder what he's thinking right now.

Comedy of the night~

Derrick Fox (in reference to a Hydroxycut commercial): That stuff is dangerous.

Mark Woodward: Yah, it's really got a woman in the box who jumps out and cuts out your liver and spleen. That's why you lose weight.

Me: Thus, the cut in Hydroxycut.

Derrick: And Hydroxy is the name of the woman. Don't make her cut a bitch! She just got up outta jail!!

Ahh, I love it!