The Source of all Activities Gay

I have decided that I'd rather die from bug repellent overdose than be eaten alive by gigantic flying cockroaches, spiders, and/or mosquitoes. A co-worker told me that there's a time when the weather gets so humid that all these goddamned bugs come out from their hiding places to torment the human beings and you can hear them smacking into windows cuz they're just flying everywhere. I couldn't tell if he was bullshitting me but I don't like to take chances. So I went online and found this...for really cheap too. You best believe I'd wear one of these bad boys because I'm gonna be ready for those suckers.


Last weekend we partied like animals and drank like our forefathers. I mean what else are foreigners in a foreign land supposed to do besides hang out with other foreigners doing exactly what we did back home? The Idioteque party was held at The Source, a small venue known as a gay has-been. The only gay activities we were blessed with were some pole-dancing, expertly demonstrated by our very own Andy and Trent. I failed to capture any of it on film but once again - bravo Trent, bravo. This guy never ceases to amaze me with his sleek pole sliding skills and dainty prancing, and of course the double fisting.

Trent & Brenda


Brian & Andy

Kester & Kyvin (sp?) performing live...

Andy & Paul (bday boy)

Paul, Corrie, Hammie & Cat

Paul & Corrie



Next day, I headed out to Rose House for a very SATC tea time with Elaine, whom I'd met and worked on set with back home. It was awesome talking to someone who's hometown is Taiwan but has lived in NY and loved it. The cultures, school systems, guys, social lives, you name it.

Waffles & hot Green Mango fruit tea for me...

Elaine sipping her iced Apple fruit tea via champagne glass...

And to top off all this G-rated blogging, I changed my bedsheets to an alluring leopard print. My mom, dad, grandma, and baby cousin all read this so I don't think they want to hear about which foreign countries I've been visiting, privately. Kidding mom, kidding. You're wondering how all my clothes fit into that one small wardrobe. It doesn't.