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FOR ANY1 THAT CARES...
i'm @ my first bar as a legal bitch & i ordered an absolute vodka drink bc i think i'm in the interior illusions lounge. like this is a goal of mine & i'm already drinking absolute & now i have to be in the lounge. oh wait... ru doesn't do that type of untucked anymore. *cries a lil*
I've just started watching Ru Pauls Drag Race, which I've got addicted to it fast! In the last two days I've watched a season and a half. I bluddy love it, and to be honest I started watching it looking for a crappy programme that I can just watch and still do work, little did I know I'd fall in love with it! HOWEVER every single episode I get very annoyed at something really very small. The Interior Illusion Lounge. Its a fucking green room, if you don't want to call it a green room I understand but hows Backstage or The Lounge. What is it a room plastered with different illusions?! I am aware that it is a very small thing to be annoyed about but it really does fuck me off!
How Do You Like Your Eggs?
Victor Lang awoke alone in his bed to the scent of bacon wafting through his apartment. He stumbled, bleary eyed, down the hall into the living room in just his underwear toward the front of the apartment. Barlow the dog was bouncing around at his feet, excited that his master was finally awake. He could see on the wall clock that it was just past 11:00 am on New Year's Day. He found Tom, half naked as well, in the kitchen, hard at work making breakfast. "Hello." "Hi there." Tom said with a smile. Victor almost reacted before realizing that he wasn't talking to him. Barlow stood right next to him, wagging his tail awaiting the opportunity for a dropped morsel of food. "Sorry, buddy. This is for Daddy." Barlow sat down on the kitchen floor and his expression changed to appear more pitiful, whimpering slightly to get his attention. Tom remained unwavering . "Nice try." Victor laughed, finally drawing Tom's attention. "Good morning." "Good morning. You didn't have to make breakfast." Victor poked his head over Tom's shoulder. "I wanted to surprise you. They say what you do on New Year's is going to set the tone for the rest of the year." "I think we had enough surprises at the end of 2012 to last a lifetime, but that's sweet of you." Victor put his arms around Tom and his hand in the waistband of his boxer-briefs, kissing him on the shoulder. "Where is everyone? Sky is normally up by now." Victor said, breaking the embrace. "They're both still asleep. I took Ziggy and Barlow out earlier so he could sleep in." Tom said, whipping egg yolks in a bowl. "What did we ever do to deserve you?" Victor smiled and snatched a piece of bacon off a plate, making Barlow pant in anticipation. He sat down at the table next to the kitchen doorway, breaking the bacon in half and giving a piece of it to the dog. A few moments later, Tom appeared with two plates prepared with eggs, bacon, waffles, and a French press full of coffee, which Victor didn't drink anyway. "Juice?" "Please and thank you. Were you a waiter in a past life?" "Actually, I was. Steak and Shake in college." Tom returned again with silverware and glasses filled with orange juice. "Seriously?" Victor began to poke at the food. "Yessir. I was head waiter by the time I finished undergrad, too." Tom said smiling. As the two of them ate, conversation turned to recounting last night's events. The throuple, the cat fight that nearly happened between Elle and Lex, and most notably a very drunken Nick Karamanis, who actually ended up spending the night there. "It was an eventful evening, sure, but at least any drama that happened was predictable and manageable. I would have predicted Monty to be the one to pass out, though." "He seemed to be on his best behavior with Eli around lately. I still don't really understand those two." Tom said, cutting into his waffle. "You don't? I've known him for years. I have no idea how he ends up with these straight-laced guys who aren't remotely his type." Victor responded. "But then again, does Monty really have a type?" "I suppose not, but Eli isn't just cut from the same cloth. He's bread from a whole other pattern compared to Monty." "You and I aren't all that alike, though. People could say the same about us." "True, but who cares what people say? We are alike in some ways and in others we're completely different." Victor explained. "These eggs are amazing, by the way. They taste... sweeter somehow." "I put just a dab of yogurt in them. You'd be surprised what you pick up along the way." Tom said in between bites. "I'll say. I have every top cook book in the last ten years and I've never heard of yogurt in scrambled eggs." Tom just smiled again and continued chewing. "So, I have to tell you something and I didn't want to tell you last night for fear of ruining the evening." Tom finally said. "So you'd rather ruin my morning?" Victor quipped. "Yes. See, I don't know how to bring this up, but..." Tom began. "But... Spit it out." "I took a new position with my company... in Philadelphia. And I'm moving there later this month." Tom blurted out continuing to chew his food as Victor looked on dumbfounded, wishing there was some champagne in his orange juice.
The Master Debater
"Call him!" Schuyler yelled drunkenly from the couch. Victor was unloading his groceries in the kitchen while his roommate sat in the living room eating leftover pasta as their dogs, Barlow and Ziggy, watched him anxiously hoping for a morsel to come within their grasp. "I'm not calling him. It's creepy," Victor put a carton of eggs in the refrigerator, "He couldn't even just come up and say hello." "So, maybe he's shy. He took a huge risk putting his number out there. Plus, he's hot! What's the worst thing that could happen?" Schuyler slurred through his pasta. "I get murdered," Victor said. He had finished unloading the groceries and joined his roommate in the living room. "I don't think he's an ax murderer. How many psycho killers shop at Trader Joe's?" Schuyler got serious for a moment, "He's hot, you shop in the same place and he thinks you're hot. You only live once!" "If you say YOLO, I'm going to hit you," Victor rolled his eyes. "I'm saying call him. That's all." "I'm not calling him," Victor reiterated, knowing that wouldn't be the end of the debate. "Fine, then text him. Do something! When was the last time you went on a date? 1992?" "That's not funny." "I'm not laughing. If you don't call him, I will on your behalf. Where's the cucumber?" Schuyler jumped up and bolted for the kitchen. "I hid it," Victor said. Schuyler returned to the living room knowing full well he wouldn't be able to find Victor's hiding spot. "Fine. I won't call him for you, but I'm not going to stop nagging you until you do. In fact..." Schuyler pulled out his phone and hit his speed dial. "Monty! I need a favor," Schuyler began, "Vic got a cute guy's number on a cucumber at the grocery store and he won't call him. Help me convince him it's in his best interest." Victor stared at his best friend and rolled his eyes. "No, like really hot. According to him, like Cobalt bartender hot," Schuyler went on. "I never said that," Victor chimed in. Schuyler stared at him for a moment, "Okay, fine. He could have been a 17th Street bartender in another life. But, hey, so could I!" "Yeah.. no. Monty says go for it!" He tapped his phone to activate the speaker phone. "Vic, how many opportunities like this come along to you every day?" Monty's voice came across the phone. "I'm not saying it's not a great opportunity. I'm just skeptical that he couldn't just come up and talk to me," Victor defended himself. "We live in an age where guys talk on Grindr while they're standing right next to each other. So what if he's shy? Maybe that means he's intimidated by you," Schuyler reasoned. "Because that's such a turn-on," Victor said. "It could be," Schuyler and Monty said in unison. "Or maybe he's a unicorn," Monty continued. "A unicorn in what regard? He didn't have a horn," Victor said sarcastically. "Doesn't mean he's not horny!" Schuyler exclaimed. "No, I mean he could be one of those rare guys who's really hot, but really humble about it," Monty explained, "I say go for it." Schuyler stared at Victor knowingly, "Gay unicorn!" he whispered excitedly. "If this goes horribly awry, you two owe me a bottle of gin. Each!" Victor finally yielded, "Now where's that damn cucumber?"
Best drinking companions I could possibly think of.
