Sunday's Here

I came home today from breakfast at The Palace and tried to take a little nap before the Sunday festivities begin and I have to re-appear at four. I was just about to doze off, listening to the wirring of the ceiling fan, when I hear "tap-tap" and nearly faint at the sight of Hyacinthe at the French doors. When I asked her just what she was doing here, she mentioned me "getting away with something" and I asked just what did she think I was getting away with, standing in my boxer shorts and all. Hyacinthe thought I had the twenty boys over again and hadn't told her (she took that mundane photo, you might recall, and--I think--performed oral sex on one of them.) I told her that life was not one big pool party and that every one of those twenty boys were at the fund-raiser last night not only engaging in serious "grab-ass", but opening up their wallets. (Hyacinthe operates a middle-class hooker call line and couldn't attend. To her credit, she donated $50, though).

I finally counted the money this morning so that I could get it to the Humane Society by Tuesday. $2007.00 was stuffed in Ditmar's glass vase, including checks from B&T Mark and bartender Susie for $100 each. God bless you two, and I thank all you regulars for making it a super Saturday.