Work Party: Dresscode - BizCaz

Awkers, it's been a while (by staind) since I've delved that deeply into the darkness. It's been a while since the curtain has dropped that hard, for that long. It's been a while since life's soundtrack has skipped that many measures.

Work parties are always a recipe for disaster and this was the whore-mother of all work parties. 2 floors of excess in the form of open bar, forced conversation, and live-band karaoke. Shit was BOUND to get O.O.C.

Let's back up for a moment. This was Cheat Day. Cheat Day resides on Friday for a reason. I'm usually still hung over from Thursday and I need a pile of greasy food to absorb the shock of the gallons of booze I consume on Friday night. So on this, my Cheat Day, I decided to consume a bagel with lite cream cheese and a salad. Wrong. Fucking. Move.

Cut to 1 hour (and four hard drinks) into the party. Things are already going hazy days on me. I'm already chatting with the other office gheys about which of the office professionals are the keutest. I'm already comparing tats with Dark-Hearted Annie-Lennox-Hair Girl and her friend. I'm already doing shots of non-clear booze (ugghh).

Some time during the blur of the rest of the party, I decided to go to my usual late night bar with Beardy Office Ghey and At First Seemed Lame But Turned Out Pretty Funny Once I Gave Her A Chance Straight Girl. I bought one drink there, took one sip, and then... [cue curtain of absolute blackness].

I awoke the next morning (and by morning, I mean 3pm) to discover a huge welt on my head and a huge cut on my hand. I had spent my entire Giftmas bonus, but I hadn't lost any credit cards / belongings (partial win?). A flurry of texting followed in which I tried to decipher what had gone down.

Beardy Office Ghey had scratches and bruises all over and a severely fucked up knee. Lame-Turned-Funny Straight Girl had a bruised hip and a sprained ankle. No one remembered what the fuck had happened.

Possible theories: (feel free to number by order of likelihood)
-We fell off the stage while trying to showcase some boss dance moves.
-We fought a roaming band of maladjusted trannies.
-We started an underdog street gang.
-We fell on the ice outside.
-We insulted one of the bouncers.
-We beat the shit out of each other.
-We had rough, rough sex with each other.

The decision is yours, awkers!
-Awkerday. Nite. Live.

Morning Realizations

Is that a Pop Rock stuck to my boot??
-Yes, yes it is.

Did I make out with Dark-Heart Door-Boy, Goth Internet Creepster, and Skinny [sometimes tranny] Door-Boy all at once??
-Yes, yes I did.

Did the ATM spit out too much money and did I subsequently invest that money directly into abusing my liver??
-Uggggggghhhhhhhh, yes.

Did I make out with Aesthetician Boy at the urinal whilst mid-pee [Ala Chest-Tat Boy]?? If so, does that make me a member of some kind of fringe sect of the Watersports community??
-Yes, and maybe.

Did I really go home with Goth Internet Creepster?? Was that reality or some kind of subconscious manifestation??
-...??

Did the clock really say 6am when I stumbled in the door??
-...??

Did I really have room temperature cajun food for breakfast??
-Uggggggghhhhhhhh, yes.


hung. over. as. i. type. this.
-awk. all. nite.

What Are YOU Thankful For??

This is a summary of being back in my city of origin for an extended weekend.


THANK YOU:

-Progressive Thanksgiving with the fam at an Indian restaurant
-Finding my old combat boots from grade school (they still fit!!)
-Discovering I'm back to my weight circa 9th grade
-Pet Shop Boys documentaries
-Gallons upon gallons of vodka-sodas
-Drunkenly packing a leather daddy cap (and wearing it out dancing)
-Youtube DJ/VJs at dive industrial bars
-Homemade dinner party with friends
-Skinny Puppy megamix CDs
-People I don't like that got fat


NO THANK YOU:

-Train delays
-Getting guilted into moving a full sized refrigerator for my dad
-Being confronted by the girl I lost my virginity to about coming out
-Gallons upon gallons of vodka-sodas
-Bars that close at 2am
-Bars that allow smoking
-Not a gay in sight
-Skinny Puppy megamix CDs that break in transit
-People I like that got fat


I bet the gym is going to be packed this week. Don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

-Nite. of. the. Living. Awk.

Letters to Internet Creepsters I & II

Me pretending not to see you. You pretending not to see me. Forcing a veil of cordiality as our mutual friends introduce us to each other for the first time again. You’re making eyes again. “You going to that one bar later?” The one we pretended not to see each other at last time? Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll see [through] you there.


I’ve been blacked out drunk for about half of the interactions that we’ve shared. Not sure if I’ve actually made out with you or if that’s part of a dream I had. I would like to. I’m glad you invited me over. Your friends are just as damaged as me. It’s been a while since I’ve come across an entirely new circle of people. It’s been a while since I’ve crowded at a mirror with 10 other people to do eyeliner. It’s been a while since I’ve come across a venue that will play the Cocteau Twins followed by the Presets without missing a beat. This [dark-hearted] Boy’s In Love (lust).


-Awk. Nites.

Letters to Hookups II: Chest Tat

Oh Dark-Hearted Chest-Tat Boy, why are you so complicated (by avril lavigne)?? You came on strong at first… “You’re coming home with me right?? Ok good [grabs dick].” Ur It-Girl friend took a keut pic of us each sucking on one of her nipples. Still remember the smell of ur room. Lube and poppers, poppers and lube. And then the dreaded Friend Territory [cue dissonant organ chord].

I had basically accepted the shift to friendship. Movie nights, platonic sleepovers, group brunches, Dairy Queen runs. Maybe it’s just the atmosophere at that one bar. Maybe it’s something in the water (or booze more likely). Every time our paths cross there, it’s all grabby grabby, kissy kissy, bathroom tryst-y. Gotta say, no one has ever walked up and made out with me whilst I was mid-pee at a urinal. Kinda hot tho.

But then, THEN you go and steal my signature move. “I’ll be right back.” And then you’re off into the night like what could have been. You’re probably a physical manifestation of karma for all the boys I’ve done that to.

Whatevvvvv. I’m in for the ride either way. Let’s start some trouble, make some mistakes, and not learn a fucking thing from them.

Ur Dark-Hearted Partner in Crime,
-Awkie Nightie

Stars Don't Lie

Sometimes the stars just align. Sometimes your favorite bodywash is on sale super cheap (I bought 3 bottles). Sometimes the lesbians with the best party favors seek you out at 4am straight dive bars.


For the most accurate reenactment, read the following at 8,000mph:

“Ohmigod you are so CUTE where are you from? Europe mostly? where does that jawline come from? Sweden maybe? seriously adorable, no, listen to me I’m a big fat fucking dyke, when a dyke says you’re hot it’s really fucking important, what sign are you? Aries? oooo bossy, no? not bossy? then you’re the other kind, sit around sponging in information about people until you can use it against them, stars don’t lie, do you play? because I have some nice toys, step into my office.”

[5 minutes later, in a women's bathroom stall]

“Are you ready for this? just a lil bump, a lil bumpity bump, do you like this spoon? I stole it from a tea shop, careful now this shit is straight outta Columbia, Columbian Gold, nice nice nice, you clear me, I clear you, ok girl tuck your dick, this is vag country.”

[holding my hand and walking me through a confused pack of women's bathroom inhabitants]

“Outta the way! just a couple of ladies coming through! make way for the V.I.P.”


Doesn’t get much more random than that.
-Awk Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiites.

Zombies and Rubber and Trannies, Oh My!

Bruce LaBruce, bless your dear heart! Only you could combine the elements of gay porn, zombie horror, comedy, and political commentary into one film. Such was the occassion for me donning zombie makeup and venturing out into a cold Sunday night for flesh-eating debauchery.

Started at a friend’s house for makeup and primping. Walked over to the theatre and got a lil boozey while mingling with other gay zombies. The event started with a horror punk band with an utterly adorable female singer in a pink latex nurse’s uniform. Her lyrics were fucking hilarious, including such gems as, “Every time I cum I vomit.” The film was everything I expected and more. The finale was a writhing zombie orgy of pale bodies covered in blood-lube. My friend couldn’t stay out any later, but I was done-up so I decided to hit up some drinking establishments of ill-repute.

At the first stop, I unexpectedly had a bunch of drinks bought for me and danced with a bunch of trannies. This place was kind of my old stomping ground so I kept getting these weird, knowing stares from guys. Did I make out with them? Did I get drunk and take my clothes off last time I was here? Maybe both. Anyways, it was weirding me out so I decided to leave that shark tank for another. This is where shit got craycee…

Not only were there a bunch of dark-hearted gay zombies milling about, it was ALSO International Male Rubber night. If you don’t know what that means, just picture a bunch of guys in skin-tight fetish costumes comprised entirely of latex. I was getting pretty O.O.C. by this point, so let me share the glimpses that stand out from the fog.
-Extended crotch grab from a tranny named Paris and her two male cohorts.
-Caressed lube over the costume of a particularly fit rubberman.
-Received a scalp massage from two dark-hearted goth-gays.
-Became entangled in the middle of an end-of-the-night dance train with a slew of dark-hearts donning various amounts of latex.
-Confronted by various internet creepsters I.R.L. (eek!!).

This, Awkers, is just a peek into my Sunday evening. I’m sure I’ll recall more highlights as my hangover wears off, but jeez! You kids don’t need to know everything! I have to retain SOME degree of mystery (ha!).

-Awk.Nites 2.0

Halloween!

Awkers- I’m not going to make any promises… but it appears the hiatus may be over. I was burnt out on these drunken ramblings. That is… until a weekend… SO awkward… I had to write about it. That’s right. HALLOWEEN!!

Halloween has long been an important part of my life. Me being a dark-hearted, maladjusted queer with a closet full of craycee clothes. This would indeed be a Halloween to reckon. My first in this fair city I now call home.

Awkers, awkers, how do I convey these events to you, my loyal readers? As I remember them? (a drunken blur; snapshots of moments that may or may not have actually occurred). As I’ve been told by others? (a mess of round after round of shots) As documented by party pix? (making out with lesbians… again). Let’s take a somewhat novel approach and go costume by costume. You see, I wore a total of 3 costumes this year (perhaps to make up for being a zebra for 2 years in a row prior).


Night One: Dexter (the serial killer, not the cartoon).
Got myself all did-up and started the night with a particularly stiff pre-bar libation (this always turns out bad). I tell myself it’s to save money… but really I end up spending the same amount at the bar and just blacking out.
I remember taking tons of pictures syringing people in the neck (ala Dexter) which actually turned out to be a great way to hit on boys. From what I can recall, I made out with an alt mummy (via chewing gum handoff) and a goth drag nurse. Photo evidence would suggest I made out with some of my leslie friends (via XTRM drunken confusion).
The night steadily became a haze until I woke up next to an empty box of frozen White Castle burgers. OH NO!! Alas, it was technically my cheat day by then, so it’s all good.


Night Two: Leather Bear.
I had a concept for my leather bear costume in the back of my head, but waited until the last second to implement it. Maybe that’s why I had to cut the ears off of a teddy bear and sew them onto a shoelace during the last hour of work.
Ok, I’m not one for vanity, but I LOOKED FUCKING ADORABLE. Trolling my way up and down Fag Ave (you know the one). Did a repeat makeout with goth drag nurse (boo repeat costume). Met up with gay, Asian Jesus. Eye-fucked our way through some bar lines. Got my buzz on in a hurry. Then I saw the bartender I made out with a couple months ago at industrial night. He DEF didn’t look as good as I remembered, so I had to duck out of there.
Decided to meet my Thai leslie friend at the leslie bar to formulate a plan for the impending after-bar hours. Thai leslie and her friends/coworkers were there in full force. Her friend that regularly hits on me was courting a sugar daddy (a tragic one at that). Got a lil buzzier and decided to migrate to a late night bar (via cab financed by sugar daddy).
Drank mad booze financed by sugar daddy, danced into the night, then played truth or dare in a restaurant with some new friends.


Night Three: Eurotrash Vampire.
Eurotrash vampire was a last second costume concept that came together surprisingly well. Gathered the clothes and accessories and brought them to college friend’s house to do pre-bar and makeup. She was a Glam Witch (cute, right?). Then we hit the town.
Most of the bars were boring (or we were the only ones dressed up) so we decided to head straight to the late night bar. This is probably where I went wrong. The curtain of blackness dropped just after I saw the dark-hearted, chest-tat boy I hooked up with (on poppers) one week prior.

COMPLETE BLACKNESS


The Morning After
I woke up face down in my bed, wearing jeans and clutching my phone. What happened? Where am I? Did I do coke? I am MINUS a jacket, a cameo ring, and my dignity. I am PLUS some mystery bruises and a brutal hangover. I realize my phone is beeping with a text from dark-hearted, chest-tat boy. Reply: “hell fucking yes i want pancakes.”
So over breakfast (at 2pm) I find out that ALLEGEDLY…
-I bought round after round of whiskey shots
-I fell into/onto a car outside
-I puked on a welcome mat
-I initiated an impromptu dance party at an apartment
-I disappeared out the door of said apartment randomly
-Yes, I did do coke


It has now been 3 days since Halloween weekend and I am still discovering things I allegedly did/said through pictures, texts, and myspace messages/friend requests. Do I even have to say it, awkers?

I’M STILL AWKWARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Benefits of Coming Out to Your Parents

Awkers, everybody will have the opportunity to come out at some point in their lives. Whether you’re a ghey, a furry, a comic book enthusiast, or someone who appreciates the band Metro Station on an entirely non-ironic level. You will be presented with a choice. Do I hide my secret, or do I let it out. I SAY LET IT OUT! Get it off your chest. You’ll feel instantly better.

Some people, like your parents, might not understand at first. It will be difficult for a while, but believe me there are long term benefits to coming out. It’s been a few years for me and I’m just starting to see some of the advantages. By my experience, if your parents are anything like mine, here’s what you can hope to expect…

After you come out to your parents:
Your mom will try to hook you up with her hairdresser, then her sister’s hairdresser.
Your dad will inappropriately reappropriate the word “fag” in drunken conversations.
Your mom will take it upon herself to cage dance with a tranny when you take her to a gay bar.
Your dad will start watching Project Runway and talking to you about it, a LOT.
Your mom will use correct pronouns when describing to her friends the time you took her to a trashy drag revue.
Your dad will accompany you to your favorite dive bear bar.
Your dad will take his shirt off at said bear bar to get you half-priced drinks.
Your mom will invite you to girls’ nights out to scope guys at martini bars.
Etc.

Awkers, parents can be surprising. Don’t underestimate their ability to cope/grow.
-Awk.nites

WHY

Last night’s events have led me to ask a lot of “why” questions:

WHY did I ride in a limo to trashy dollar drink nights ?
WHY did I make out with more lesbians than dudes ?
WHY did he wear those stupid boots ?
(more importantly) WHY did he leave the tag on them ?
WHY did I do so many peppermint schnapps shots ?
WHY did she give me a lapdance in the limo ?
WHY did I think a late night bar was a good idea ?
WHY did I pit previous hookup and potential hookup against each other ?
WHY did my flight reflex kick in moments before possible bathroom hookup ?
WHY did I think late night food was a good idea ?
WHY did I watch so much of Norbit before turning it off ?
WHY did that ginger on the train this morning get “LIFE” and “PAIN” knuck-tats ?
WHY are we here on this earth ??????????

Answer: Because I’M AWKWARD

Peace(love.awkers.respect)4LyfePartners
-Awkie Nites

Nicotine & Nostalgia

I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life. Still the taste of unfiltered camels remind me of that first boy. He looked like a Tom of Finland drawing crossed with a bike kid. Haha, kind of biker meets biker. So in the spirit of nostalgia, here’s a look back at some of my most awkward nights of all time…


The first blowjob I ever gave was to one of my best friends. He was so drunk that he didn’t remember it happening the next day. I chose to pretend it didn’t happen. To this day I’m not sure if he knows. Recently he said, “I’m surprised we never ended up hooking up considering how drunk we used to get.”

I’ve only met the second guy I slept with twice. Once at a Rupaul underwear concert during Pride. I was wearing blue sparkly manties and made out with him briefly. The second time was about a year later. I woke up in the bed next to him after having blacked out at the bar the night before. I still don’t know his first name.

Meeting someone new when you thought you knew your entire city: refreshing.
That person trying to force their way onto you in their shitty car: scary.
That same person getting fired a month later for doing the same thing to a coworker: priceless.

I saw them strip at a bar. Then happened upon them on the dance floor at a different place later that night. They were already shirtless. They took off my shirt as I approached. I was embarrassed. They were clearly in better shape. Oh well, seems like I passed the test considering the frankness of their hands and lips.
“We’re going back to my place to watch my porn. You coming?”
Oh, did you just get a new vid or something?
“No, MY porn. My debut scene.”


Marinate on that Awkers.
-Awkie Nites

Don't Worry, I'm Still Awkward!

Well it seems someone is reading this drivel! Believe it or not I’ve had multiple requests to get back at the keyboard and spill my guts. Fine by me!

Awkers, I completely forgot to tell you about my recent trip to my most favorite goth/industrial/dive bar! Every time I go, without fail, I see new mutations of gothitude I hadn’t previously thought possible. Some examples? Yes please.

Goth Cowboy , Goth Geisha (Gothsha?), Mod Goth, Sailor [Moon] Goth, [Mad] Scientist Goth, Raver Goth (Graver?), ETC, ETC

I appreciate the goth movement’s ability to shapeshift through the years and keep itself… relevant. Feel free to request future shades of goth in the comments section. I have some ideas myself…

Michael Jackson Goth (in Current, Early Years, and Zombie flavors), Goth Deer Hunter, Office Goth, Goth on Family Vacation Forced to Wear Waterpark’s Oversized Promotional Tshirt Goth, Courtney Love.

Show some love (and/or hate) in the comments, Awkers!
-Peace! (Love.Unity.Respect.), Awkward Nights

Letters to Hookups: Where Did You Come From?

Is what you kept asking. That and, “Are you sure about this?” Come on guy. You’re a pity fuck. Show some bravado. Assert yourself. Make up for your physical shortcomings.

Like those thighs! How do only your thighs get chubby? How does that happen? I. don’t. understand. your. body. type.

Probably the most interesting part of the whole ordeal was when your roommate accidentally walked in. Srsly, what kind of roommate just opens a closed bedroom door and walks in at 4am? She’s probably used to eating tubs of icecream with you and watching Sex and the City dvds on Saturday nights.

In closing, all of the above is probably sufficient explanation for why I ran out of your house while you were in the bathroom.

Heartz,
-Awkward Nights

Pride Part Deux

In the words of Cristina Monet, “My sheets are stained/ So is my brain/ What’s a girl to do?”

Srsly Awkers, how am I still alive? By all logic and reason, I should be face down in a gutter covered in glitter and KY jelly. Instead I woke up face down in my bed …. covered in glitter …. and KY jelly.

I’m SO glad I did not wake up in time to ride on the parade float. 5 hours of sporadic rain? Count me out! Though it was highly entertaining to watch the beautifully done-up drag queens turn into wet rats. Their formerly precise makeup becoming a watercolor of gender confusion.

Speaking of confusion. I saw so many questionably of-age exposed private bits. Belonging to a plethora of genders and gender expressions. I swear, if those bumps on her areolas were brail, they’d say, “Caution: JAILBAIT!”

In other news, how is this blog going for you readers out there? How do you feel about being called Awkers? Should I figure out how to post pictures? Should I capitalize less? Capitalize MORE? I want this to be an interactive experience.

PLUR 4ever

Special Pride Edition!

What am I supposed to take pride in? The excessive amount of booze and/or drugs I take in? The excessive amount of anonymous sex I take part in? Whatever excess it takes, let’s get this going!

I bought a new pair of shoes. And tested them out by dance battling one of my danciest lesbians. We both got hit on mid-battle.

The dj I brought home a couple weeks ago invited me to be on his bar’s float at the pride parade. Is this an empty gesture? Will he follow through? Is there a reason I accompanied a soggy asian gay girl through the McDonald’s drive-thru at 5:30am?

In any case, stay tuned for Awkward Nights: Pride Part Deux

Lesbians and Eggplant

Have you ever eaten too much right before you go out? And you feel like some kind of landlocked orca? No matter how many times you get hit on, you still feel huge. Too. Much. Eggplant. Parmesan. Srsly.

Why do I only meet lesbians when I go out? Do I look like a lesbian? Will I appear on this list
someday: http://menwholooklikeoldlesbians.blogspot.com? Are butch lesbians the new twink?

Maybe I should just go straight. Buy a pair of pastel plaid bro-shorts, a Hollister shirt, and go see Austin Powers 3.5: The Spy Who Love Guru‘ed. What kind of future does this life hold for me????

Laterz!

Welcome

Why the fuck did I start this “weblog?”

1. As a tool to help my booze-addled brain remember what I did the night previous?
2. To waste time at work.
3. Does it really matter? I’ll probably give up after a few days.
4. To become a minor blog celebrity that daily gets an inbox full of n00dz from fanboys.

Whatever. It’s open to interpretation. Welcome to Awkward Nights.

*Edit: Probably number 4.