Hey! Bledsoe! Tempest! Hang a left!
Now that I don’t live there anymore, I sometimes feel like some sort of traitor when I step foot back in to the Castro, as if I was excommunicated and banned from return. I wasn’t, I just had to move out when my ex and I broke up. They say you learn a lot from past relationships. What I learned was next time, get your ass on the lease.
Luck–cruel luck, I say–has found it necessary to deposit a stash of cutelicious Russian boys on Treasure Island during what appears to be some sort Olympic training. Fuck if I know, but one of them–a stunningly cute blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty–was on the bus the other day in bright blue Adidas-esque wear with "Russia" stenciled on the back of his jacket.
Now that the Cold War is over, I think the U.S. should show its benevolence to the Mother Country by shipping vats and vats of sunless skin bronzer to the former Soviet Union. I mean, yes, the boys are cute, but that corpse-white whiter shade of pale skin has gotsta go.
Oh, yeah, and I went to Devotion last night and had an incredibly wonderful fun-filled time. It’s amazing how you can be single and alone, stressed and poor, but still go to Devotion and be re-energized from the soul. "Be thankful…for what you got…be thankful that the sun shines again…"
