Continued...
The best was still to come though…as soon as I was significantly wasted, there was a drag review in on of the rooms! I was absolutely entranced by all the dancers in the performance, as they were all the perfect specimens of men. In fact, they all looked like the statues of Roman gods I’d been seeing all week! Only, you know, more covered in glitter, and wearing hot pink harem pants and dancing around without underwear. God it was beautiful. Some had ferocious pink feather masks on, but some had sparkly pink gimp masks on. I want! It was like a Quentin Tarantino film on acid. Gay acid. At this point I was significantly wasted, and dancing around like a madwoman. And yet, somehow, I still managed to notice the 50 euros someone had dropped on the floor. Doing a sexy little shimmy all the way down to the ground, I picked it up, narrowly avoiding having my hand stepped on by other frenzied dancers.
Taking my newfound 50 euros, I went back to the bar. Seriously, what else are you going to do with that much money you just stole off the ground? And who is careless enough to lose money? I’m a drunk-ass mess and I still don’t drop money like that. Oh well. Other people’s monetary loss is my alcoholic gain.
I danced. I almost sat down on a couch but then I noticed some chick eating another chick out on the couch. I danced some more. I accidentally went into the wrong bathroom and saw the weirdest leather bear sex orgy of all time. I danced some more. I went into the right bathroom and a tranny and some dude had crazy sex in the stall right before I used it. I danced some more. I stole three packs of cigarettes. I danced some more. I hit up the bar about a thousand more times and I have absolutely no idea what I ordered or if the bartendress ever took advantage of me. I danced some more. The tranny from the bathroom gave me a few bumps of coke. I danced some more. In one of the rooms, the lights were so fucking insane that they made me feel like I’d taken about three hits of LSD. I danced some more. My comrade dragged me out of there at about 3:30, and used the rest of my found money to buy a gypsy cab to take me home. Or so I hear. Finding 50 euros on the floor and a tranny with good coke is not conducive to remembering anything for the rest of the night.
A few hours later I had to put in a bleary-eyed and hung over appearance at some museums and other things I was supposedly in town for. I keep a little list in my head of all the cool places I’ve thrown up at (I am a hang over puker, unfortunately), and I’m proud to say I have added the Coliseum to this list. I left one of the museums we were seeing and went to a Basquiat exhibit across town. It was splendid. That’s one of the keys to being a hot mess: be crazy, but be cultured too. Take hints from the glorious messes that came before you. Love those who died tragic, young, hot, and messy, but remember to go to museums and the symphony every so often.
I like to think that Miley Cyrus will be like me in a few years.
(Tales of a Lesbo has shortly been suspended due to our very own Lesbotico actually partaking in a real-life serious degree and not having the time to do such trivial things as ruminate on her lesbotico life. She shall be returning shortly, we hope. In the meantime enjoy the ramblings of our very own amazing Lindsay Lohan. May we just point out for legal reasons that we do not condone drug use of any kind on any level, and that the writings of 'Hot Mess' do not reflect the values of Shiny & New in any way. We do find it very funny though, and completely amazing. - Ed.)
(This column is more fun then dreaming about all-you-can-eat make-your-own nachos buffets. It completely and wholeheartedly reflects the values of Shiny & New in all ways it possibly can. Very funny and completely amazing. - More Important Ed.)
(But yet again let us reiterate that whilst we love our Hot Mess with all our hearts, we cannot, for legal reasons, condone drug use and our glamourizationism of drug use is done entirely ironically. It is not intended to influence any body in any way, shape or form. Have fun responsibly - Most Important Ed. Ever.)
(Looks like no more blow jobs for Most Important Ed Ever. More Important Ed will have to give his affection elsewhere. Namely Ellen DeGeneres' fish pie. - More Important and Fun Ed.)
20.11.08
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