Rough Trade

Awkers, will I ever have a healthy, normal relationship? Will I ever have a healhy, normal hookup? Or am I destined to have climb-the-fence, alley-behind-the-bar, rough-trade trysts until doomsday? Who am I kidding. What's normal anyways? A social construct based on outdated, Victorian-era morals; THAT's what.


I don't remember if I did all of my drugs or lost them.

I'm at work with the remnants of last night's makeup on.

I didn't even catch his first name.

I don't think I gave my real name.

I vaguely remember his friend standing by and watching.

Would I have it any other way?


-Awk.in.the.name.of.Love[Lust].

...think it o-o-over

Sibling Revalry

When Siblings Attack! Both my brother and my sister visited in succession last weekend. And you better believe it got awkward.

BRO:
-Brought a gaggle of art students that varied greatly in their levels of acceptability.
-Blew Gay Art Dude's mind with the endless possibilities of the Gay District.
-Attended a mildly entertaining drag show at Recently Rennovated Bro-Gay Bar.
-Got everyone drunk until it was late enough to go to Late Night Bar.
-Got brother in free as my +1 (thanks Dark-Hearted Door Boy!).
-Brother got eyed up by Secret Bi Promoter.
-Gay Art Dude made out with the lamest guy to ever walk in the door.
-Art Student Gaggle slammed their way through the dance floor.
-Brother met multiple characters from this blog IRL (eek!).
-Closed out the bar, threw up a little, then accompanied Art Student Gaggle to their hotel.

SIS:
-Met up at my work where I made her read this blog.
-We both got eyed up by a very stylish (and very tweaked) girl on the subway.
-Prebarred and did makeup at my tiny closet-sized apartment.
-Trekked to Goth Internet Creepster's place for more prebarring.
-Ex Porn Star and Goatee Twink were there already faded.
-Cabbed it to Late Night Bar.
-Sister met multiple characters from this blog IRL (eek!).
-Told lots of strangers that me and my sister were twins.
-Used this line to get a Uncomfortably Straight-Laced Guy to buy her some dranks.
-Got pretty hazy days and danced the tranny dance.
-Sister lost coat check tag.
-Went to Late Night Diner where Uncomfortably Straight-Laced Guy had followed us.
-Sister proceeded to flash her switchblade to "send a message."
-Crashed on the floor of closet-sized apartment.
-Took sister to fav vegetarian cafe.
-Waiter kept calling sister "Miss Thang."
-Killed time until the sun went down (fuck the sun, srsly).
-Prebarred and did makeup and took pictures in closet-sized apartment.
-Cabbed it to a monthly kinda-gothy upscale club night with DL mixed drinks in hand.
-Got party pic'ed jumping up and down.
-Started some social experiments by way of eye-fucking as many people possible.
-Drank DL mixed drinks perhaps a little too openly.
-Sister lost coat check tag.
-Cabbed it to Upscale Hipster Bar where Chest-Tat Boy was bartending.
-Bought mediocre blow from Chest-Tat Boy.
-More social experiment eye-fucking.
-Cabbed it to Late Night Goth Bar.
-Got WAY hazy days and did some bathroom blow bumps.
-EVEN MORE social experiment eye-fucking.

All in all it was a whirlwind of a weekend. Until next time, Awkers.
-in.the.name.of.the.Awky.Spirit.

Bonus text message between me and bro:
"Holy shit I can't feel my teeth!"
"Holy shit where are my pupils!?"

Awkward in a Strange City II

Awkers, I come to you once again having tasted the streets of a strange city. Twas actually last weekend, but I've been too burnt out and frazzled to put fingers to keys until now.

There were two occasions for the visit. One to visit my dear friend who may or may not be the awkward female equivalent of myself. Two to go to my gender activist acquaintence's drag / genderfuck / gender terrorism warehouse night. And I suppose I did have a third motive of avoiding a boy that has been sweating me (so sue me).

On the bus ride there, an 80 or so year old woman sat next to me for the majority. That's all fine and well except I was texting people about the drag night and gay bars and other dregs of society as she read over my shoulder and scowled disapprovingly. I mean lady, you're on a greyhound bus! Get over it! When I wasn't next to Grandma Hate, I was next to Greaseball Bro who was on his way from Florida (Hell on Earth). Direct quote:

"What are you listening to guy?"
-The Presets. 2 Australian guys doing kinda dark dancey stuff.
"Are the words in Australian?"
-...No. ...English.
"Oh, right, American version."

So despite my brush with humanity, I arrived (physically) unscathed. Equally Awkward Girl and I got our drink on and our dress on and our makeup on in preparation for the drag night. The theme was technodrome and I kind of went all out, complete with huge lensless sunglasses made to look like goggles.

Between her house and the warehouse we stopped off at a bar to visit Equally Awkward Girl's sister. I stuck out like a sore thumb in my makeup and attire but no one seemed to mention anything. Her sister actually said, "Oh, I just thought that was your new look."

By the time we actually arrived at the warehouse, that familiar haze had set in. I realized I had taken my look a little farther than most of the people there, but not quite as far as the performers - a middle ground that I was satisfied straddling. Everyone was O.O.C. in the best way possible. I drank vodka soda out of a plastic bottle. Lights flashed. Music pumped. Bodies writhed. Sweat dripped. Equally Awkward Girl peed in the parking lot in front of basically everyone.

At some point we decided it would be a good idea to go to Coke Bro's house for afterbar (excellent decision). The resulting mayhem was a rager dance party that lasted into the wee hours. Doing blow through a vietnamese hundred dollar bill off of an antique mirror while ELO blasts on a record player really makes you feel alive.

The next morning (afternoon) I walked around a bit to get some local flavor. Got heckled by some porch sitters ("Why don't you buy some tighter jeans?!"). Did some window shopping. Did some shopping shopping (black silk skinny tie!). Then Eq Awk Girl got off work and ready for night two (via leftover vodka soda).

It's possible that we may have taken the pre-drinking a little too far. The fog was settling in as we arrived at a bonfire / yard beer scavanger hunt. As things got more sloppy, we decided it would be a good idea to take a cab to the gay bars (excellent decision). Here are the flashes:

-Platform danced with a 400lb woman and a leather bear.
-Drank a very large and very unnecessary shot of peppermint schnapps.
-Got intensely hit on by Fat Plaid Door Guy.
-Jumped on a bed... in the middle of a bar.
-May or may not have entered a secret porn bar through the men's bathroom.

I woke up shiverring violently, lying on the pool table in the basement of the party we had started out at.

-Awk.like.no.one.is.watching.

Overlapping Reentry Stamps

...all over my hands. The sign of a hungover Friday at work. Actually, I'm not hungover per se, more like stale. Last night was all kinds of fucked up.

Started at goth bar with Goth Internet Creepster and his fag hag for her birthday. The place was all pale skin and level zero blonde and hip bones and cold stares and drawn in eyebrows and fat girls in lowtop chucks. Goth Internet Creepster had me handing out flyers for his night. I gave them exclusively to boys I wanted to make out with and girls with good bangs.

You know when girls are forced to dress really professionally for work so when they get a chance to go out they take their style just a little bit too far? I have coined that slightly "off" look Girls' Night Out Syndrome. The worst offender (sufferer?) of the Syndrome I've seen in a long time trapped me in a corner and tried to hit on me. I pulled the "Sorry, I'm gay" escape. Really, what I wanted to say was, "Sorry, I'm gay. But even if I were straight, your accessories are ugly."

Goth Fag Hag got SPECTACULARLY drunk, perhaps due to a questionable drink handed to her by Slimey European DJ Guy (who is married by the way). She ended up puking in the bathroom with a stranger holding back her lone black braid. STRANGER DANGER! Maybe that's why she was dragged out by security moments later. And maybe that's why Goth Internet Creepster almost got in a fight with another Girls' Night Out Syndrome sufferer. And maybe that's why my goth club experience was cut short once again.

One awkward cab ride later and I was back at my usual late night bar. Things were in full swing and I had some catching up to do. Alt Thai Lesbian was already making out with Good Bangs Electro DJ Girl (who is married by the way). Tiny Promoter Lesbian was already falling over drunk. Dreadlocked Promoter Lesbian was already LIT UP. Doppleganger Boy was already giving deadly stares to the boys "beneath" him (maybe we have more in common than looks).

And catch up I did.

There's an unexplained, uneaten mini pizza in my fridge.

-Girls'.awk.Nite.Out

P.S. This happened a couple weeks ago, but it's practically the quote of the century. [in the bathroom of late night bar, a redhead girl approaches me while I'm at the urinal] "You look like the kind of boy that wants to get raped by a redheaded girl!"

A New Look

The time has come, Awkers! I finally added pictures to all of the posts! Shitty MS Paint pictures! Is this a ploy to get you to reread previous posts and forget about the fact that I haven't updated much lately? You bet! What more can you ask of me than my honesty!?

In other news, the internet creepsters have been all up in my biz lately! I was just starting to hang out with Myspace Internet Creepster and his circle of friends when he goes and ruins it all by asking me on a date. It's pretty common knowledge that I DO NOT date, go on dates, enter relationships, or any of the like. So I did what any other awkward soul would do and ignored the email. Going out to the same place as him tonight, so we'll see how that goes!

Last night I went to see Goth Internet Creepster's DJ set at a new night he's trying to create with his friends. The crowd was divided into two camps. Those with G.I.C. and those with the other DJ who we shall call Stick Thin Goth. The bar was basically split down the middle like an abortion clinic protest. OF COURSE I was the one that got drunk enough to cross over into S.T.G. territory and mix things up. OF COURSE this resulted with more drinking until suddenly I woke up at home the next day with a GIRL's phone number in my pocket and a massive headache. Not sure if I even WANT to investigate what I did/said.

Enjoy the pix d00dz!
-Awk.Nite 3.0

I Have a Headache Part II

SO.... the scare was just a scare. Take THAT Dr. Stereotype M.D.!!! But that didn't stop me from imbibing enough booze and coke to qualify last night as a last hoorah just in case.

AND.... now i have a last hoorah hangover headache for no reason.

Cest la Vie! (is that how you spell that? i don't speak the language of Freedom Haters)

Now this page can go back to lacking the gravity and social relevance that yall TV babies detest so much.

I hope yall learn a lesson and wrap your reckless abandon in lubricated latex.

-Knights.of.the.Awk.Table

I Have a Headache

Awkers, I WAS going to do the same old and recount the [unofficially extended] weekend's debauchery and mayhem via [marginally] witty banter and Overly-Long-Hyphenated-Nicknames. THEN my evil fucking vindictive doctor decides to throw me a motherfucking fuck shit fuck fuck AIDS scare.

"You prefer men? Well you have had this cough for a while. Now that I know about this persuasion, I'm really thinking we should do an HIV test."

Yes, you read correctly... PERSUASION. WTF! Because Straighty-Vanilla-McGee discovers I'm a 'mo, HIV just HAS to be the reason her PHD can't pinpoint why I'm coughing. I [probably] should just relax because it's [hopefully] pretty unlikely. But. this. will. never. stop. being. scary.


WELL.... I'll know at the end of the week, so here are some life questions that I was pondering previously anyways:

-Will I ever fully put myself out there with a creative project; be it music, clothing, or film?
-Will I ever enter a monogamous relationship (or a relationship at all for that matter)?
-Will I ever let any one person know all of my darkest secrets?
-Will I ever stop moving around and changing cities?
-Will anything ever really be enough?
-Will I ever "settle down?"
-Will I ever get over my body image issues?
-Will I ever reach a kind of cult fame?
-Will I ever strike a blow at mediocrity and mainstreamedness?
-Will Fred Phelps die before the end of the world?
-Will there be dinosaur clones before the end of the world?
-Will there be dinosaur clones with mounted cannons before the end of the world?
-Will I ever find the perfect drug?
-Will I hum The Perfect Drug to myself if/when I do?

Mix and Match Answers:
-Gosh, I hope not!
-Pshhhhhhhhhh. You know how I do, son!
-FUCK YES!
-FUCK NO!
-who cares...
-Better believe it!
-Signs point to no.


FTW.2012.GFTD (get faded til doomsday)
-awk.daze

EDIT: I DO NOT want to talk about this.