A cock without a frock on a rock

There is nothing better than running around naked at Joshua Tree. Ok, like, I didn’t run around naked, even tho I really did want to. Altho I am planning to do so the next time I head out there.

The weekend was spent in increments of naps. On Friday night I napped for an hour or so before heading up to Los Angeles to catch a piece of Danny Tenaglia’s “11 hour” set at Avalon. Woods and I got there at around 4am. It was about a quarter to 4am when we finally found parking on some remote Skunk infested Hollywood Street. We didn’t want to pay the 25 dollars that Avalon was charging for parking. After a brief ticketing fiasco at the box office, we were able to locate Mnky and Frankie within minutes. We danced amongst one of the most diverse crowds I ever had the pleasure of being around. You had everything there – Trannys, Heteros, Queers, Bi’s, and so forth. At 6am, the bar re-opened and the crowd bum rushed the bartenders. We all decided it would be best if we participated and purchased a few cocktails as well. We hung out until sometime after 8am where Woods and I headed over to Griffith Park where we located a nice shaded area to nap – in Betina’s front seats that is.

At close to 1pm, we awoke to the sounds of people running. I immediately spotted the fags cruising the local public restrooms. We decided to skip out on the cruising and head over to the gym. Wood and I decided that we would check out the Miracle Mile LA Fitness. I was shocked to learn how fucking cruisy that gym is. That has to be the cruisiest gym I have ever been to. The locker rooms are in another building separate from the work out area. The locker room was quiet and secluded. In other words, a paradise for a slut like me. Even without being in the locker room, I got cruised hard by some Los Angeles fag working his shoulder muscles. Downstairs it was a cock free for all as looks were exchanged, and heads nodded to meet back in the showers. Even with all of this going on, I didn’t hook up with anyone. Altho I did show off in the shower to some older dude who was pleasuring himself in the stall across from mine. He shot his load and was off. Good times.

By the end of the day, Woods and I planted ourselves in some BLM land outside of Joshua Tree. I was freaking out because it looked like the Firefly Family had been there looking for their next victim. All I wanted to do was set up camp and hit the hay. I kept visualizing cannibalistic mutants that could be living in the hills attacking my truck and dragging me out by my feet with hopes of me being their late night snack. Luckily for me I have limited meat on my bones. Yeah, yeah, I know – I’ve seen too many horror movies. Regardless, I was passed out on the sleeping bags way before midnight.

I woke up to the sounds of gun shots sometime before 8am. Some crazy NRA bastards were doing a bit of target practice a few miles down from us. That went out for an hour until I finally rolled out of bed, or lack thereof. Woods and I thought it would be best to get our faggoty asses out of there before they turned their target practice onto some San Diego queens in an Xterra. But before we run were out of there in fear, I could not start the day without a Bloody Mary – which ended up a bit too dark for my taste. Light on the horseradish please.

We made it to Joshua Tree before noon. We ate lunch then decided to do some exploring. Some of the highlights were of the day were… my cock flopping out once or twice; bare ass in the shade; eating a yummy Santanas’ carne asada burrito; watching the novice rock climbers; taking a nap in Betina next to a rock; and driving through JT’s main road with Ladytron blaring loudly out of the speakers.

We eventually made it out of the park sometime after 8pm. It was quite dark when we hit Interstate 10 to head back home. Woods decided to take the long way through the Salton Sea, but not without a stop at the ghetto-ass Long John Silver/KFC hybrid over in Coachella. Nothing says lovin’ like scrumcious LJS’s chicken planks after a weekend in the desert. Those things are a little piece of heaven covered in batter. Mmmm.

A Happy Camper I am not

My current transition from working on one account and moving to another is not going as smoothly as I had hoped for. It’s been a bit of a struggle to break away from the demands of The Client to get trained on my new position. I expected that there would be a bit of frustration when I was told it was going to take two months before I officially start on the other team. I prepared myself for the worse, but I didn’t realize how catty some of my co-workers can be.

I have encountered some other frustrations that have not put a smile on my face. They are silly things really, but if they prove to be truthful I will not doubt find them quite annoying in the long run. I am hoping that I am just working myself up for nothing.

I need a drink NOW.

Hey gurl, you proud?!

For me Pride season officially begins this weekend… Lady E, Timofy, Woods and I are heading up to Long Beach today for the festival and parade on Sunday. Oh, who am I kidding?! Like our bitch asses are going to make it to the parade! I’m sure I will be finding myself waking up in a pool of my own vomit on some random street close to the beach. Oh, how I love pride season.

Boo-fucking-hoo

I’m beginning to hate this ho more and more each day…

Hilton's Mother's Day Marred by Thieves
Hotel heiress Paris Hilton is fuming after thieves made off with a $10,000 bag of Mother's Day presents on Sunday. The brazen robbers snatched the gifts, which included Christian Dior shoes, sunglasses, handbags and perfume, from outside the Hiltons' palatial residence in Los Angeles. The bag had been left unwatched at the gate as the delivery person rang the intercom to gain access to the house. Hilton's spokesman Elliot Mintz says, "A fellow just whizzed by (in a car) and grabbed the package. (Paris) spent three or four hours shopping to put together this wonderful collection of things for her mom." Instead of being showered with presents, Kathy Hilton was treated to dinner at an exclusive nearby restaurant instead.

Post-LosAngeles-ing

TitoPants and Rust have headed back home to Tucson. From the looks of it, they had a complete blast checking out our favorite haunts in the Los Angeles area. I really want to bring them back in August for a taste of Silverlake at Sunset Junction. I remember last year at SJ when I was saying that I wanted to live in Los Angeles by the time it came around again, but oh well. Everything takes time. And hopefully I will be in Los Angeles no later than the first quarter of 2007.

Anyway, like I said, the boys had a great time. I will be posting the pictures soon – hopefully. Just like with the Coachella weekend, there are tons of pictures. Tons. Of course the process of posting is a lengthy one, and with Blogger acting the way it has been recently, it will be happening very slowly. My goal is to have the pictures posted within the next week or so. Pray for me.

For the time being, here is a picture of myself, Rust and TitoPants taken by Woods with his cell phone. We were all patiently waiting in line for Colossus at Magic Mountain when this damn choir who had just won some sort of trophy showed up behind us. All those hyper kids would not shut the fuck up. They sang, sang, and sang. Most of it was nonsense really. And it was cute at first, but it got old REAL quick. Oh well, at least the picture turned out super fancy...

Bring on the trannies!

My brothers TitoPants and Rust have made it safely to San Diego. Of course we will not be staying in town this weekend as we are off to Los Angeles for...

See you all there.

Coach Pictures: Part Four (Monday)

Monday was definitely the slowest day of the entire weekend. Some of us slept in, rolled out of bed, got dressed at a snail’s pace and cleaned up the condo. The others were up at the butt crack of dawn! We all said our goodbyes, kissed & hugged, and took some of the last photos of the weekend...

Tired ass bitches Sad Girl, Whip, Des, Gallegos and Wee.

MySpace addicts Whip and Des.

Sisterly love – Wee takes a seat on Sad Girl.

Whip prepares to take a bite out of Lyvinator’s back end.

Gallegos tries the water balloons on for size.

Leenie and Whip all smuggles before the big send off.

Viva La Raza! Coachella’s Pizza Slut was one of the many Messican work’d restaurants that was closed for the big protest on May 1st, 2006.

The hills have eyes... Whip and Woods make a pit stop on the drive home in what looks like a scene out of a “take a short cut through the desert” horror film.

The last batch of Coach Pictures: Part Three (Sunday)

.
Whew! Ok, here are the FINAL selections of Coachella Sunday photos...

A shot of the Scissor Sisters' amazing set.

.

Woods and Whip – Coachella with drugs.

.

Woods and Whip – Coachella without drugs.

Coachella's art on the whim.

On the way out of the festival grounds, I ran into AP and Erb by the morning fresh port-o-pottys.

Amen!

Getting close to the end... Coach Pictures: Part Three (Sunday)

You can never have enough pictures... more Sunday shots:

Mnky and K just lovely loungin' in the hot as hell Sahara Tent waiting for raging cunt Madonna to appear on stage.

Our view of an ant sized queen whore Madonna who is "playing" the guitar.

Do Lab lovelies Wee, Lyvinator and Leenie.

The craziness inside The Do Lab.

Pea makes a nap buddy outside The Do Lab.

The survivors of the weekend... Woods, Leenie, Gallegos, Lyvinator, Des, Sad Girl, Wee.

Even more Coach Pictures: Part Three (Sunday)

Fucking Blogger. Here are some more pictures from Coachella Sunday...

The long ass line you had to wait in to be ID'd for shitty beer and disgusting margaritas.

Random Coachella Guy Picture #8: Hot asian-ish dude with unnamed female.

Hollywood youngen Michelle Trachtenberg during Gnarls Barkley's set.

Random Coachella Guy Picture #9: Almost naked cowgrill hat buddy with biniki clad ho-bag girlfriend.

Some of the interesting Coachella art haunting the fields.

Clowns were amok at Coachella.

Pre-mic eating Karen O during her great Yeah Yeah Yeahs performance.

More Coach Pictures: Part Three (Sunday)

For some odd reason, Blogger wouldn't let me upload more than 8 pictures. Fuckers. Well anyway, here are a few more...

Dave Navarro was at Coachella in spirit... and on a port-o-potty.

The crowd for Matisyahu's performance.

Gallegos all full fledged ready to show the bitches how to WERK the cleve.

Cronies Des and Sad Girl partying it up during Matisyahu.

Matisyahu loving gays Whip and Woods.

Pea, Des and Gallegos catching a little bit of shade at the Coachella main stage.

Gallegos couldn't help to resist another cap nap on the cool grass to get her going again.

Coach Pictures: Part Three (Sunday)

Out of control is the only phrase I can think of to describe Sunday at Coachella. Tool AND Madonna were both set to perform... which made the polo field a madhouse. The place was chock full of shirtless faggots and angry heteros. All I cared about was grabbing a baked potato from Señor Corn, but Señor Corn didn’t plan on so many people purchasing potatoes so they ran out early. Those dumbasses. At least I did witness the spectacle that was Madonna, but it was Scissors Sisters who stole the show for me. It was a nice surprise to see Jake Shears’ hair was no longer orange...

Puff Puff Poon! Always a fucking lady, Sad Girl taking a swig of her oh-so-butch brewski in the backseat of Betina.

Des looks so thrilled to have a very partied/passed out Gallegos cat napping on her.

Coachella Tucson bitches – Whip, Des, Sad Girl.

Another Coachella Tucson bitches shot... this time with two more drunkenards – Pea, Gallegos, Whip, Sad Girl, Des. ***Please note that Sad Girl thought she was at work on the big pink boat over on Golf Links Road.

Gorgeous fabulous ladies calm collective Des & intoxicated Gallegos WERKing the walk to the festival.

The flattened rattle snake we had the displeasure of coming across on the walk from the truck.

Random Coachella Guy Picture #7: Short wearing nice legs dude who smiled at Whip.

The HOs were definitely in the muthafuckin’ house at Coachella – Pea, Sad Girl, Woods, Des, Gallegos, Whip.

Coach Pictures: Part Two (Saturday)

Saturday morning/early afternoon was all about recovery from the debaucherous night before. I had minimal sleep, but I was going on energy that was being supplied from a delicious breakfast cooked up by the girls. Woods, Des and Gallegos decided to brave my driving abilities and rode with me to the festival after we dropped AP at some swank hotel deep within Palm Springs. In order to make the drive more tolerable, the four of us stopped at a convenient store to stock up on beer to drink on the way. From that point on, I was completely ready for Coachella...

Some of the lovely ladies of the Coachella weekend – Wee, Des, Gallegos, Leenie, AP.

AP totally WERKing Whip’s frou-frou shades.

Gallegos looking very innocent and sweet – a wolf in sheep’s clothing?

Des giving up some of the lip action.

Woods all Coors Light’d with Whip’s ghetto beer of choice.

Gallegos doing her best to “quietly” point out to the entire Coachella South Parking Lot that Des is taking care of some personal business.

Woods taking in the sights without a shirt, but with a bottle of water.

Whip preparing to stuff his face with a scrumcious Señor Corn baked potato.

The infamous Do Lab (a/k/a The Jungle Tent).

Random Coachella Guy Picture #1: The Do Lab shirtless alt dude.

The Do Lab Faux Queen that reminded me of a poor man's version of Squeeky Blonde.

The madness that was the crowd for Colette's DJ set.

Random Coachella Guy Picture #2: Older athletic homosexual male who Whip fancied during Colette’s set.

The wonderful Colette who spun house, soul, tribal, big room... all while doing double duty and singing live with her own tracks.

Random Coachella Guy Picture #3: Shirtless frat backpack guy.

Random Coachella Guy Picture #4: Yellow hanging shirtless cowgrill hat fella with two shirtless queens, um, I mean friends.

Where’s Faux Pas?! – an un-fabulous picture of one of the stilt walkers since you can’t see the stilts.

Señor Corn!

Coachella at night.

Crosses were in fashion during Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus”.

Random Coachella Guy Picture #5: Fuckable Depeche Mode fan sporting an interesting tattoo and a nice worked out back.

Zzzzzzzzzzap! Needless to say that the local bugs were flying away for their lives.

A visual from The Rakes' quirky little set.

Random Coachella Guy Picture #6: The tall drinks of waters that the Lyvinator wouldn’t have minded climbing.

“This looks like a scene out of War Of The Worlds” – The completely disorganized main exit at Coachella.