I went to Gaybingo with a few gay friends last Saturday night, and I won $95 on our twelfth game (out of fifteen). I put $20 of it in the offering plate at church on Sunday morning. Mostly for irony’s sake but also because, hell, I had the cash, and I never have cash.
I miss TV. That is all.
The performance on Tuesday was meh. Fine. Cautionary Husband said that I did better than he expected me to, which was mean and nice at the same time. I’ve never used the electric part of the electric-acoustic function of my guitar, so it was
terrible interesting to hear all the tiny mistakes I made amplified OVER A SPEAKER. But my singing was okay, I think. I was asked to join the church choir, at any rate.
After my performance, CH and I went to get a drink at Cautionary Pub, where I saw Cautionary Bartender. I sidled up to the bar, and she came straight to me even though there were a lot of other people who had been waiting much longer. As she poured my drink, she told me that I HAD to come to her BOYFRIEND’S birthday party the next day. Which, I think, is a way of saying NOT A LESBIAN. Later, she made me take a FREE shot with her before I could close out my tab. I think I’m going to enjoy having a bartender friend very much. Happy Mardi Gras to me.
Giving up cussing is going to be harder than I thought. At coffee with a friend this morning, I cussed roughly twenty times, and every time I cussed, I said an alternate just-as-bad word immediately after because I’m not supposed to be cussing, which brought my final tally to about forty. So it seems I’m now cussing doubletime. Off to a great start.
I can’t believe I posted a video of myself singing. God help me. God help YOU.
Tagalongs taste a lot like puppy chow, don’t they? Effing delicious.
I trust that y’all will tell me if it’s truly horrible so I can remove it with a bit of dignity intact.