Weekend Wrap-Up, I Wouldn't Even Be Mad If..., and more Brandon Parker

So, my weekend was kind of a blur.  I worked until 6 on Friday.  Jonathan came out to Tysons and picked me up.  We went to Georgetown to see these new ALIFE tennis shoes that had come out that day.  I was going to get them, but after more observation realized that they didn't give me that much life.  Later on that night, I went to the Fireplace (Uggghhhhhhh--sticking my finger in my mouth and gagging), for a quick cocktail.  It was so late in there, and so were the queens.  This trade tried to hem me up and talk to me, but I wasn't feeling him.  He gave trade all day long, but on certain words ending in a vowel I felt like he was a queen.  You can never tell these days.  Whatever happened to the days when a queen and a trade was a trade?  One week you see a particular person posted up on the wall giving masculine teas, and the next week they are popping their pussy to Beyonce 'Single Ladies'.  A mess, I say....

Anyways, I fleeced from The Fireplace and went home.  I worked early, and was glad about it, because this week started "Holiday" hours.  We are open until 9 on Saturdays.  After work I was slightly blown, and just wanted to quick bite and a cocktail.  I went to Finn and Porter inside The Embassy Suites.  As soon as I walked in I saw Omarosa standing in the lobby.  I felt like it was a conjure.  I walked into the restaurant and sat in the bar--other conjures followed.  It was too much.  I didn't ask for all of that, I just wanted a quiet dinner.

Yesterday I worked as well. My friend Lucy came through Tysons with two of her kids and wanted me to eat with them at one of my favorite Thai spots in the city.  We ate and fleeced.  I came home to start to get ready to go out.  I wanted to go to Eyebar.  I got ready and Norman came to pick me up and drop me off there--he couldn't see coming in--smart guy.  It was so tired!  The same  old queens.  Does anyone remember the last time I went there?  I said that everyone had funky breathe?  Well, last night 2 guys approached me with the stinkiest breathe ever.  Along with checking id outside, they should also check for rank breathe before letting patrons enter.  What the hell?  

I saw the usual club staples.  I showed a little grace, and got a little grace.  When I was about to leave, I saw this guy that has been persistent about "talking to me" for a while.  He asked me where I was going and asked if I would meet him at another nearby club.  I told him that I wouldn't make any promises, but would let him know. (Remember this, I'll be back to it)

So as I'm leaving I see random people outside that I know finishing up cigarettes.  I chat with them for a bit, they go back in, and i begin to fleece down the street.

As I'm walking I hear, "She had the nerve to wear a fake fur to the club..."  I stopped in my tracks and turned around slowly to see 3 of the most tired queens (with no coats on at all, mind you) I've seen in a while.  "What did you say?", I said.  "Oh, you can keep walking sweetie", says the main queen.  I pumped back up to where they were standing and politely asked who they were.  In the most monotone voice ever I told them that I have never been a member of PETA, and neither should they.  I asked them why they had to be so nasty, and said that (this was the ruler) they should try to "channel all of that hate and negative energy into something positive".  They got life and got in after realizing that my coat was not faux.  They are lucky they caught me on a subdued night, if they would have caught Quincy Fierce--Awww Lawd!  I would have pumped back into the club and retrieved the appropriate banjee house girls to slash their faces.  It doesen't even call for all of that though.  I thought "Going Green" had to do with the environment and not jealous hatin' ass bitches.

Anyways, after that I pumped down the street to meet the guy who was on my ovaries about meeting up.  I shot him a text and asked if he were still there.  He replied "Yes".  I walked into the club, and immediately saw him.  He was all up in some nasty queens face.  Dancing and grinding all up on him, and being gross.  I got a cocktail, and stood in the cut.  I sent him a text that said, " I may stop through".  I watched as he retrieved his phone and sent me a reply message.  I finished my cocktail quickly and fleeced without him ever knowing I was there.  30 minutes later this bitch ass nigga sends me a text that read: Where are you?  Can I come over?.  I picked up the phone and called him.  I told him to go to the mother-fucking queens house in the red shirt from the club.  He was stunned.  "You were there", he said.  I never answered yes or no, but gave him a play by play of what they were doing.  I simply explained to him, that if you invite me somewhere have the decency to look out for me.  It's a respect thing.  After I read him, I went to bed.  What a fucking weekend!

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I wouldn't even be mad if Castro a.k.a Supreme knocked on my door right now dress as the Comcast cable man.  And he...never mind!

I wouldn't even be mad if either one of these trades shot me.  I would get life and take the bullet out myself because they are so fine...Wouldn't that be over?  

I wouldn't even be mad if someone bought me these new LV tennis shoes.  You know I live for Stephen Sprouse!

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Remember my sweet baby child Brandon Parker?  Check him out on www.loveismyrealname.blogspot.com.  I'm so proud of him!

photos property of Tarrice Love