This is kind of turning into a travel blog, but that's usually the only thing of note going on lately. I'll try to come up with a few different topics here after this. But, we just got back from New Orleans. It was technically my second time there, but first time since I started forming and retaining memories.

The main reason we decided to go now was for Ben's 40th birthday party, which happened to coincide with a big gay festival, Southern Decadence and some big late night party called the Horsemeat Disco. Getting to NOLA is beyond easy. We took Southwest out of Love because Daniel had a leftover flight credit from his short lived stint at the startup and we needed to use it or lose it. We normally will only fly American because we're holding onto gold status by our fingernails these days, but it made sense to this time not to. And boy does that eliminate a lot of stress. Love is down the street, we could practically walk there. And the flight was barely an hour long, so easy.

We really had a nice time in the city. The food is great everywhere we went. Great drinks, good nightlife. The night of Horsemeat Disco we took a little disco nap and made it out. We had purchased new clothes just for the event so we would be ever so slightly appropriately dressed. Turned out we were almost the only ones wearing clothes. Lots of butts hanging out everywhere. It was crowded. It was stinky. You could hardly move much less dance, could hardly talk. All in all, I'd have to say not my scene. But I did my best to hang and have a good time, mostly by imbibing.

The next day we went to the Southern Decadence parade. It was so hot. It was so crowded. It was impossible to do anything, so when our friend Ashley had to head for the airport to get back to her kids, we took it as an excuse to escort her back to our hotel where she'd stashed her bag and then we went to the pool. All in all, I'd have to say not my scene. My scene gets more and more specificity added to it every year. Luckily Daniel agrees.

Our last night we went out to dinner in the French Quarter, had a lovely meal, and then strolled down Bourbon Street on our way back to the hotel. At the end of the street a complete nut job had set up an amplifier with a microphone and had dip shits on either side holding big placard signs letting us all know that we were going to hell. When he saw Daniel and me, he singled us out and started harassing us. Daniel grabbed my hand and we told them to fuck off as we walked by. What a downer at the end of the trip.

It did get me thinking though. The analogous opposite of that just truly doesn't exist. Nobody ever sits outside of churches on Sunday morning with big signs saying "None of this is real!" or "You're all morons!" while someone screams at them in a microphone, "You're not going to heaven when you die dipshit!" So ... looking for volunteers for next Sunday. Let's liberate a few minds from the clutches of Idiocracy!

I'm cheating again and I'm going to backdate this blog. I used to just say sorry I am so late getting around to it, but these days I use my blog like a Time Hop, so I'd rather have a semi-accurate date on it depending on the story I'm telling. But I digress. We just got back from a long weekend in NYC.

We've struggled to find our place there. Different hotels, different neighborhoods, nothing ever really felt right. Well, folks, you'll be as thrilled to hear as I am thrilled to announce - we finally found our home away from home in New York. The Chelsea Hotel. It's this super old building with a rich and storied history of being a haven for artists and musicians. But it's been bought out and turned mostly into a high end hotel. I say mostly because some people still live there, so walking down the hall to our hotel room, we passed two residents' doors. I assume that is occasionally annoying but it probably also basically saved the building so take what you can get. There were three restaurants, and we tried two. Both were fab. And we'd go to the bar at night for courvoisier and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

I'd never been to a Broadway show so Daniel got us tickets to two shows while we were there. One was Oh Mary! starring Meg Stalter. I love her to death and she did an amazing job, but ... eh. It was like bawdy and irreverent for the sake of it. I didn't really think it was that CLEVER or anything. Funny enough and we had a great time watching. But ... nothing like our second show Titanique - the telling of the story of the Titanic from Celine Dion's perspective. It was continuously riotously funny throughout with the best music and dancing. Loved it. Loved it.

What else? We went to the Met. Daniel had tried to gaslight me into believing I'd been to the Met before, but I definitely hadn't. Then we walked through Central Park and later on through Hudson River Park, and yowzah the eye candy. I definitely need to step it up or start taking peptides or something. We also saw Davbart and he and Colin took us out to a more traditional Chinese brunch that was completely chaos and then to the Tenement Museum which was super cool and I would def go back to that.

I don't know if New York changed, or if I changed, but I really enjoy it more now than when I was younger. I was even commenting that like nobody was rude the whole time. To us or otherwise. People on the subway said, "Pardon me," when it was their stop. Staff everywhere just super welcoming and friendly. Idk, it is just so enjoyable now where I didn't feel like that 20 years ago. The only thing I didn't like was that EVERY FUCKING ONE was playing Alicia Key's "New York" on repeat. Every store, every pedicab, everywhere you went, you'd sometimes even hear 2 or 3 renditions going on out of sync simultaneously. PEOPLE! There are SO MANY songs about New York. Mix it up!

Then whoosh, we were back home. A super fun little trip for no particular reason. And one we'll hopefully start to do with more regularity.

Well, I happened to notice that today marks exactly one year since my glorious return to SideshoViD.com. I just did a quick inventory and I made 38 posts in that year. That's actually a lot more than I was expecting. Though I have to say the addition of Instagram-like and Twitter-esque formats really helps boost those numbers. I wish I had thought of that back in 2002.

I came back from Spain, felt fine, went to work for a week, etc. Then Saturday afternoon I started to feel kind of shitty. I was sick right before Spain, so given how quickly I was feeling sick again, I decided to do what I never do and go straight to a doctor to get tested and find out what is ailing me. The doctor just called and said my test results were unusual, so it would be easier to explain over the phone (ALWAYS a good sign). I tested positive concurrently for 3 infections - a coronavirus (not COVID), an influenza bacteria (not the flu), and whooping cough? Fuck me. But the good news is a zpack will wipe out both bacteria at the same time, so I guess it's a good thing I went to the doctor straight away instead of waiting 3 weeks to see if it resolved on its own. Maybe I should do that every time I get sick. Is that what doctors are for?

In other news, I've been making minimal efforts to drink marginally less. One way I have done that occasionally is zebra striping. That's where you alternate one alcoholic drink, then one non alcoholic drink. The problem is, every non alcoholic drink sucks ass. They're just juice. Like, don't serve me a glass of juice and call it a MOCKTAIL. That is infuriating. So I went on a quest of my own to make a zero proof cocktail at home. Problem is, fake "liquors" are even worse. They're not even juice, they're just tea. Like literally a weak brewed spicy tea and they call it a whiskey replacement. It's insulting.

Well, folks, I am pleased to report I finally found a good one. I was talking through it with AI, because obviously, and I told it I wanted the bite, the flavor, the viscosity, the burn, the aroma, like everything. And it came up with 3 suggestions. We happened to be at Total Wine this weekend so I bought one of them. I told Daniel, "If this sucks, I'm giving up entirely." But it didn't suck. It's awesome. It's St. Agrestis Phony Negroni. And it pretty much tastes exactly like a real Negroni. Very satisfying and very reassuring that I should check out the other two AI suggestions and maybe get a repertoire going. We'll see, but I'll keep you all posted if I don't die first.

The last destination on our whistle stop tour of Spain was Madrid. Barcelona was big. Granada was cute. Seville was medieval. And Madrid was hip and sexy. It immediately had a different feel from the other cities. There were also rainbow flags ev-er-y-where. I dunno if it was just the neighborhood we were in, but it seemed like every bit of the city that we saw was the same. There was even a sex club next to our fancy hotel. We got brave one night and went in to check it out. It seemed like the more raunchy activities were all downstairs and we could just sit upstairs, fully clothed, in the tiki lounge and just have a drink. But the guy at the door didn't speak English and we couldn't really ask and then we got scared and ran away.

The first night we had reservations at the oldest continuously operational restaurant in the world, Botin. We got a set down in the basement which seemed more desirable than sitting upstairs. Daniel had eaten there many years ago and wanted to see if the grilled prawns were still the best thing ever, but after we ordered they came back and said no prawns tonight. Boo. So we both got the suckling pig that I read online was the most famous dish. And it was really good. As we were leaving the host guy said, "Did you see the wine cellar?" And we said no and he said oh you can't leave without seeing it. So back downstairs we went, and then down another level into a dark cramped brick covered tunnel filled with dusty wine bottles. And he kind of gestured, "Over here, there's more." And as he did he rubbed his hand on my crotch, and I thought, oh no! Don't acknowledge it, he'll get embarrassed! It's so cramped in here! And then it happened again. And again. And again. And then he put his hand on the small of my back and then ran his hands down and grabbed my butt. Haha. At that point, I looked at him and said, "Ohohokay, buddy. I think that's enough." I was SO excited to tell Daniel that I got groped. As we walked up the stairs from the cellar, I turned back to him and we both said at the same time, 'I just got molested!" This dude was doing it to him too! Like WHAT did he think was going to happen, best case scenario in a crowded tourist trap restaurant. So funny. We've both STILL GOT IT!

We did yet another tour in Madrid and our tour guide was awesome. He's even written books on Spain and gave us each a copy I look really forward to reading. We learned a bit more about the flip side of Spanish history after the Moors with the Spanish monarchy. This one is of note because they inbred SO fucking much that the later sovereigns were like deformed and sterile and it was a whole thing. We went through the Prado and our guide knew just about everything there was to know about just about every painting in there. It was really impressive and we had a wonderful day of learning. My fav.

The next dinner was at a Michelin star restaurant. We weren't sure we'd be up for it after so many nights of eating out in a row, but it ended up being a great idea. My dick didn't get groped, but my palate did get challenged. So many dishes I had ZERO idea what it even was that I was eating. And we paired it with a bottle of Krug, a nasty little habit we've developed, so that made it even more fun.

The Reina Sofia museum is full of modern art. It was sorta more inspiring than the Prado because I felt like I could do all of it. In fact, I might try. Instead of finding art for our house, what if I just made forgeries of existing pieces. It would be fun to try anyway. Our final dinner of the trip we just could not stomach more tapas, so we made a few aperol spritzes in the "red level" lounge at the hotel, then walked over to Popeye's and had a very disappointing chicken sandwich. The day we didn't fly home until 4pm, which was kind of sweet. Slept in, had a leisurely breakfast, took our time getting to the airport, and when we finally got home it was already time for bed. Win win win. All in all a great trip!

I have a couple of things to report. The first is news from the eRECt Center that I just returned from. I spent about an hour there, and never really got around to lifting any weights. Instead, I sat in the corner and stretched and stretched and stretched. My yoga teacher is going to be proud of me. Anyway, I tried desperately to touch my nose to my knee and I came ever so close, but no cigar. The way I see it, though, I'm only about two weeks away from it being effortless.

I bought my yoga book today and read part of it. Frankly, there were chapters in there that just plum made me blush. This yoga shit is going to be the best thing for my sex life since accidental tantra.

In other news, I was over at Josh's watching some TV, and his friend Kyle or Carl was there. I didn't really listen to his name the 100 times I heard it. I hope he doesn't somehow read this and get offended. Anyway, Josh brings up the fact that if you put salt on an ice cube and hold it in your hand that it will burn you. Ky(Car)l(e) claims that is bullshit. They bicker back and forth, eventually daring each other to try it. When they both wouldn't, I stepped forward as the guinea pig.

It's not uncommon for me to test theories out on myself. One time I stuck a 9V battery to my braces ... that felt like god had donkey kicked me in the face. Another time, I opened my eye right on a camera flash and set it off to see what would happen. I couldn't open my eye for about 2 hours and when I finally could, everything was red. Anyway, back to my story.

So Josh hands me an ice cube and pours a moderate amount of salt on. "Don't be shy," I prodded. More salt. After doing some research on the internet, the best explanation I've found of what happens is this. Pouring salt on ice is an endothermic reaction. That means it must draw heat into the reaction from the surrounding environment. This plunges the ice (normally around 32-33 degrees) to much, much lower. So when you hold it in your hand while this reaction is going on, it draws heat, not from the air, but from your hand. End result: frost-bite.

It was quite painful at the time, but not excruciating. Today, however, I have an ice cube shaped red mark on my hand that hurts pretty bad. Most people would encourage you to not make the same mistake, but I'm not most people. I want you to try this right now, and then leave me a comment letting me know how it went for you. Until then, my little plebeians. Peace out!

I love weekends. This one was a great one. Friday I all went to class and stuff, which is really studious for me. That night my friend Serge was having a party over at his place. I showed up around 11 and ended up being the first person there. People eventually showed up though and it ended up being a great time. I ended up catching a ride home with a friend and leaving my car there. Always the responsible one. The next day my parents showed up around noon. Luckily I just happened to wake up early and shower and drink some water (and get my car). My parents brought me a new kitchen table for my place, its totally sweet. Then we sat and chatted for a while. We went out for lunch at Texas Roadhouse, and then they took me grocery shopping. When we got back from Krogers they left for Houston to visit my brother, Stephen. It was a nice little visit.

Last night I went over to Ryan and Todd's place. David was in town yet again with their friend Sam. Frank and Stoner showed up and we started off the night with a little bit of 6-cup. Once the majority of us were sufficiently toasted, we busted out the drunken Pictionary. That is such a fun game. Me and Frank completely dominate when we're partners. We won the first game by more than half the board. Its pretty ridiculous, to be honest. I ended up not drinking for the rest of the night and driving myself home around 3am. Good times. Today I didn't do shit, but I'm about to go look at some homework and get it done. But right now I'm watching Pleasantville and really enjoying it. So I'll talk to you all later.