Rikki and I went to the '90's last Sunday. We met Nate, who was sporting the short, gelled wet look, eyeliner and a t-shirt that said, “I’d do me.” He dragged me onto the dance floor, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. He turned his back to me, gyrated closer, and then somehow made his ass vibrate for a full minute. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to stare or try to dance around it. We were then abducted by the fantastic flaming army and taken to "Gay Perkins". I have never seen so many queens all in one place. I had no idea there was a gay Perkins. I was there man, in the thick of it. Then there was a scuffle in the parking lot between a valley girl and a flamer. Afterward we were all subjected to a hilarious overdramatic lisping rant about how the cow got blood all over his brand new Versace. (They were only pinprick spots that you could barely see.)
And now I'm off to the falls for the noonish spelunking.