I am so sick of Foleyitis I could scream. I feel like I now know the complete meaning of painful rectal itch. Of course I was on the radio tonight in Santa Cruz talking about the escandalo but the fear and loathing is getting to be a bit much for me now.
So I will start telling stories about my friend Gary with whom I share a birthday, Halloween.
Gary was the total Christmas queen. The house that he shared with his partner Chet, always looked like a Christmas blizzrd had hit it. They had a Christmas village, every kind of light both inside and out, fabulous ornaments. They put out the Christmas silverware, the Christmas plates, the Spode dishes. It was gay Christmas in that house.
Plus they always did a Christmas party. A ridiculous amount of food, especially Gary's famous cheesecake. He cheesecake recipe is lost to the ages now. Funny the things that come to mind thinking about him.
One year at their party, they had both started new meds, DDT or something. The meds gave him REALLY bad gas. So he warned me if I saw him walk away really quickly from somewhere, clear the area. What a friend. There will never be another one like him. I miss him every day.