off. the. hook.

I haven't had the chance to blog in a few days...I'm currently fighting a nasty little conjunctivitis infection in my left eye. Seems something blew into my left eye and lodged itself under my contact lens - causing a nasty infection - as I drove back from Santa Cruz on Sunday morning...and now if I cover my right eye, I look like a Tenderloin crack whore.

I mean, even more so than usual.

Anyway. The party.

Let's just say Gloria Gaynor is as fierce as ever, and WHO THE FUCK WOULD HAVE EVER THOUGHT VANILLA ICE COULD BE SO MOTHERFUCKING COOL???

Man, this party was just...well, it was like no other party I've ever been to. Part of me wanted to put down my camera and just hang out with everyone. Hell...my ass was grabbed enough by members of both mainstream sexes (being inclusive of those among us who are non-gender specific). The party started with a live disco/funk band who rocked the crowd and warmed them up.

Then the Iceman came out...he opened his set with Hot Sex and it just rocked on from there.

Then Ms. Gloria came on stage...and everyone, including myself, was spellbound by her majestic presence. She's probably my mom's age, but she can sing...her pipes are as strong, loud, and clear as they were in 1978. Go Ms. Gaynor!

The guy who threw the party also hired some go-go boys from Philadelphia...they were so hot...and incredibly sweet. One of them slipped me his card with a wink, telling me to look him up next time I'm in Philly.

Tee-hee-hee!

I'll be able to post some of the pics soon...but the guy who threw the party owns the photos, which means they'll remain private until he tells me which ones I'm allowed to publish here. He said he'd probably let me publish most anything, but he wants to see the photos first. Fair enough...he was a really cool guy, and I look forward to working with him again.

Sigh...Gloria Gaynor. Vanilla Ice. Hot go-go boys. Future photo contracts. Coming home afterward and being surrounded by some of the best friends anyone could ever ask for.

Life is good. It really, really is. Who cares if I look like a Tenderloin crack whore for a few days?