OK. I’m falling behind, so no time for trivial things like chit chat. Or verbs (or jokes). There’s a lot to catch you up on, in case there’s anybody out there who still cares what I’m doing (hi mom) down here. But I need to tell you about Vegas first. Mike’s brother was getting married there and his ‘rents said he could take a date. That’s where I came in. So the entire trip, the dad referred to me as Mike’s “friend.” He even made the little two finger on each hand ” symbol when he said the word “friend.” And I did wear a pink hat for 9 years, which didn’t provide a great argument for my heterosexuality. Or Mike’s (or my gay lover’s). So the night of the wedding, Mike actually went and hooked up with his brother’s long time best friend and best man, an actual girl named Cheresa who goes by the name Charlie. So we were anxious to spread the news to his dad to dispel the whole heterosexual myth, to which he retorted…
“If you wanted to prove you weren’t gay, hooking up with your brother’s best man isn’t exactly the best way to go about it.”
-Mr. (Ghengis) Conover
Especially a best man named Charlie.
Jumping off the gay train,
Still Standing Right Here…