Keith weekend follow up

As I mentioned earlier, the Keith weekend was a blast. Here are some of the pics:

Keith and Kev at Badlands on Wednesday

Kevin arrived at the "Cowboys and Indians" dinner party in full headdress. Seen here exchanging a peace offering with out host.

Shilpa and Keith, also thematically attired.

Jeff Baker and Paul Day


We LOVED having Keith DJ via his iPod.
That, and he has a nice backside.

Just sayin'.



Paul and Fred

Me, Keith, and Barney
Barney met Keith when he came to Nashville for Steeplechase way back when.

Later in the evening, Lance showed up with his visiting Kiwis. You might be able to tell from this pic—they had been drinking pretty much since lunch.

Shilpa and Lance

Ruby gave Shilpa a text and then came over to join the fun times with the gays. And she brought it—decked out in new do, animal top, and super-rockin go-go boots. If Ruby was going to trot out the hotness, I told Shilpa to lose the sweater and reveal her assets.

Kevin presents Ruby

Just a nice one of Barney, Shilpa and me.

And this one just cracks me up.

Dr. May was ever so kind as to do the washing up.

Sadly absent from these photos are the other revelers, particularly the New Zealand imports Terry and Nigel. Terry is an exceptionally charming friend of Lance's, and his traveling companion for this leg was Terry's friend Nigel, who was just unfreaking believably gorgeous. Crazy pretty. Distracting. Some of the guys admitted it was hard to talk to him because he was just so hot.

There was also a fourth with the Lance crowd. He had said he had a bunch of people in from out of town and didn't want to show up for a dinner invite with three additional guests and so they were just going to join us afterwards at the Cinch. As usual, Shilpa and I overshopped and had enough food and booze for twice as many people. We called and they had already noshed but cabbed over for pre-show drinks.

[side note back plot: Lance is very secretive about his dating life, but has started seeing someone very regularly. We are very happy for him, but we don't often see/hear about the boy. I've never met him—he's still a snuffleupagus boyfriend to me. Lance's best friends are Beth&Greg (usually said as one like that). The new boy is also named Greg, and to differentiate, Lance's gossiping friends (that would be us) refer to them as "Straight-Greg" and "Gay-Greg." And the former morphed into "Metro-Greg" or "Mostly-Straight-Greg," well, because.]

Lance arrived with the three guests in-tow. It took me a while to get their names straight and recall them correctly. "Nigel" being easy to remember because (1) who is really named Nigel and (2) wow with the pretty. I introduced people around and chatted amiably with each of them and picked up various back-stories. I was really confused talking to the third chap as it he revealed he was from Alabama. And later he clarified that he wasn't visiting but lived here. Being southerners we played the name game. The good news was that I recognized most of the names he threw out. The bad news was they were all people he hated-- exes and such. It seemed to sour our relationship and I had to point out that I know lots of people and he could throw out the names of people he actually liked. He was a charming guy, (well duh, he's southern) and I found myself slipping into flirt mode, but was primarily distracted by playing host to a housefull of people and making sure that Keith was having a fun time.

Later, in the kitchen, Greg sidled up close to Lance who was telling a story to someone else and just sort of stood there and then subtly held his hand while they stood together. I had mis-heard his name when first introduced, and assumed--as I had been told as such--that he was an out of town visitor. I quite actually slapped my hands against my face and over my mouth to keep from squealing when the lightbulb finally went off. Internally I shouted: "OMIGOD-YOU'RE-GAY-GREG!"

For Heaven's sake people you have to tell me these things!

While Lance denies this, his blood alcohol level dismisses his opinion, he and Greg did some seriously making out at the party and at the Cinch, and a couple of us commented that (1) we really liked Gay Greg, (2) we are very happy for Lance, and (3) none of us thinks we have ever seen Lance kiss a man before. It was sort of disturbing. Like watching your parents make out or something.

Other fun tidbits of the night at the Cinch:

*Walking up to the Cinch and mingling with our crowd on the sidewalk, only to turn and see Kevin in the window, headbanging, wearing the giant Indian feathered headdress. (And not bothering to explain why to anyone in the bar who asked.)

*The drag show was brief and bad, but one of the drag queens, in leather and jeans sort of in the style of Joan Jett, had his wig tossed at it got stuck in the strand of lights in the rafters.

*It turns out that hot Nigel was straight, just travelling with a gay bloke. And he was into Shilpa. Ruby, usually the center of attention for cruising men, with her go-go boots, animal print, exotic features, and heavy glam makeup was repeatedly mistaken for a tranny.

*After the Cinch, Keith and I ran into Ruby, Shilpa, and Nigel who had gone down the street to straght bars. I took Keith, Nigel, and Shilpa home, and on the way decided to make a stop at Ocean Beach where we fanned an abandoned campfire back to life. Nigel and I went foraging for wood and kindling from the other fires. Nigel kept picking up logs that were entirely aflame, and then screaming that it was hot. I kept saying, "Nigel, its on fire!" But he didn't seem to make a connection between it being on fire and being hot. It turns out that Nigel may have been very pretty, but not pretty smart. And as the story ends, Shilpa did learn just how hot he could be.

*RMJ calling the around noon the next day (we went to bed at 4:00 and we got up at 7:45 for a quick bite before I had to take Keith to the airport) for a bed-check and opening with "Wilson, I just want to say no matter where you go you are always such a gentleman. Only a true southern man of manners would hoist up a drag queen so she could reach her wig in the rafters..." (I laughed out loud as I completely forgot about doing that. It's seemed the gracious thing to do at the time. It's difficult not to be a gentleman...)



Okay then. Enough about that, it's after 5:00 and I've got last night to write about-- but I suppose that can wait until tomorrow. We went to the Cat Club and met some French sailors. With sailors at the Cat Club, there has got to be a seaman and pussy joke in there somewhere but I can't put my finger on it. (ew.)


What did we do with the drunken sailor?