Tonight I went to a birthday party for a twenty two year old.
We were crammed into a tiny little suburban apartment doing karaoke to Peabo Bryson and Roberta Flack.
Let me tell you, I killed on the Roberta, baby, but you knew that already, right?
But there was nothing to eat there but chicken wings and radishes.
That ain't right.
Too hungry and too sober, we ended up much later at some gay bar drinking "Peanut butter and jelly" shots (I still don't even know what that is) eating eating burgers at 4 am.
I mean really, who the hell has a party and serves radishes??
But I digress...
Dennis, his friends Corey and Arthur and I made our escape from the radishes early with the excuse of seeing Barbara Lynn at Rock n Bowl:
We didn't get to see much of her show, but we did get to meet Irma Thomas. We also saw Mr. Helen Mirren (Taylor Hackford) himself, but then nothing as exciting as Irma.
The crowd was very small, but as always there, filled with white straight people.
I'm talking painfully white and painfully straight.
Being bored, Dennis and I immediately scoped the place out for any possible gays.
We could only find one. The hottest, gayest one was the one
right next to me.
"Look at that one right next to you, the one in the green," Dennis tells me.
And with a bit of consultation, we realized it was none other than Peter Sarsgaard himself.
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