The Drag Queen's Birthday Ensues

Ok, so it's The Drag Queen's birthday today, but she decided to start the celebrations last Friday, as is her way. So off we trotted to BarCodeV - myself, The Boyf, The DQ, and a straight male work colleague of theirs who we'll refer to as Mr X - where the Boyf and I found ourselves to be the subject of attention for a rather cute gentleman, who nevertheless refused to actually speak to us. After a couple of bacardi breezers, I mean pints of beer, we moved to Fire for "A:M" where we met up with OBM#1 and OBM#2, plus a handsome French friend of theirs, who everyone but me appeared to already know (he turned out to be one of the faces on the Megawoof poster, along with OBM#2). And much fun was had by all, especially after Mr X went missing for a while and, when we went to look for him, was found to be in the toilet being blown by a young lady. Then the rather cute gentleman from BarCodeV arrived and finally plucked up the courage to speak, in very fractured English, to reveal he was a German tourist. Unfortunately, just as The Boyf and I were about to "get stuck into him" his English boyfriend turned up and spoilt the party. So the only one of us to "cop off" was our straight friend. In a gay club, I ask you! What is the world coming to? We all finally left at around 7am, feeling much worse for wear, and The Boyf and I headed straight to bed and didn't bother getting up again til 7pm on Saturday to watch "Dancing On Ice" - sheesh - and comment on the various outfits/thighs/hair/whatever.

Saturday night was spent in The Hoist (probably NSFW), trying desperately to look interested but failing miserably. There just wasn't anyone around we liked, which is saying something for The Boyf, who isn't normally very fussy, the slut. It didn't help that the music was all wrong. "Funky Town" followed by "Dancing Queen" (I kid you not) does not make for a very sexually charged environment, I'm sure you'll agree. So we bid farewell to a friend of ours, who at the time was being fucked over the balcony railings in time with Madonna's "Jump", and made an early exit, only to come across (not literally, sadly) a very big, muscular and hairy fellow who was arriving as we were leaving. The three of us stopped and looked at each other, but he'd just paid to get in and we were already in possession of our coats, so there was a little stand-off and then The Boyf decided enough was enough and dragged me out. "He was totally up for it", I complained, "and I've wanted him for ages now". The Boyf countered that if he was up for it then we'd get another chance, and sure enough the next day the guy messaged me on-line to say he thought we were "a hot couple", so I have a feeling we'll be seeing him again.

Sunday was spent largely in bed, again, where The Boyf and I took our frustrations out on each other, and then went back out for Round 2 of The DQ's birthday, hosted at The Royal Vauxhall Tavern. As usual we bounced up and down alot, perved lasciviously over a policeman we know (but not well enough, yet), and finally left to go to BarCodeV for a quiet drink before home and bed again.

And that, Dear Readers, was our weekend. How was yours...?