In which FHC goes to the High Heel Race but thinks it's rotten

I just left the high heel race (not even on wikipedia) because I was afraid to catch a pulmonary disease and die at a relatively young age alone and forgotten. I care very little about drag queens or women for that matter but I was hoping I would catch some gorgeous half Middle Eastern guy (after all I am on the eve of another month of abstinence) or something. The high heel race is a bit like sex: at the end you always wonder why you wanted it so bad and why you did not have your own private little race. Eventually the weather got to me and I am now on the balcony looking down on everybody (a bit like usual…why can’t people silently watch drag queens running on 17^th street?) with Drew and Ari who are discussing the best way to set up you attic and Girard is smoking his life away (he is quitting soon …ahaaaa). I don’t see any reason why it would be that cold apart from the fact, of course, that it’s fucking November and that all good things have to end.

It’s f***ing winter people! which means that when I’ll come back (if I come back) that ugly inflated pumpkin on my street will have been replaced by another tacky Christmas related decoration. Jingle bell, F****ing jingle bell! Also now I don’t even regret not wearing my Halloween costume because as the enclosed picture proves, I would have looked pathetically ridiculous. See you tomorrow !

Comments

[LL]

What FHC isn't telling us is that he's going to Roma because after seeing his performance at the wedding of the Gs, TomKat has invited him to give a toast.