live young and prosper

I feel sorry that I deleted the picture I took before running down the spiral iron staircases and out to town. It was pretty epic in afterthought, if only because my style was inspired by the birthday girl: gels, dress, dickie, dangling earring. We went chez elle to eat cupcakes and then to Graham's place for a crazy house music dance party with 'wild planet' projected onto the wall of his loft. we danced our faces off, needless to say, escaping outside intermediately - past the bare legs and jocks (anglophones) to storefronts, stoops and bangon bathrooms in order to cool down our dripping bodies and cherish each other independently from the raging party above our heads. the cops were called to the cocaine party even higher above our heads & stumbled upon us 200 sweaty, dancing twentysomethings by fluke - overreacting just a BIT with what could have been a swat team and a fleet of vans. sensing a need to leave, we waltzed between idling cabs and cop cars to la belle province across the street to satisfy a greasy tooth, where I proceeded to call my server "a dick" and propel even more madness behind the counter where he flips his fries. After the fat, he called me "a dick" as we walked out. my copilot flipped him the bird. fearless verbal prowess has been too much to hold in, lately. I am a dick.

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that being said, trekkies really don't dig it when you talk through their movie. even IF it is horribly sexist, with a weird oedipal-hero-cycle complex. a woman approached me after the show and, instead of asking me out, she gave me a lecture on 'public' versus 'private' space and conversation. she was nice about it, so I wasn't a complete dick, but I did end the conversation with a 'live long and prosper' hand signal, so you get the picture.

kirk and spock should just make out already.

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& speaking of which...

FAGGITY ASS FRIDAYS on FRIDAY!

Dick, you should be here...