soggy

though i'm sure you could feel it in the air, those of you in baltimore, or at least smell it, t-ray's back in baltimore for twelve days. i actually thought it was nine days and then last night terry said, "you mean twelve." and i was like, "no, today's the eleventh and you're leaving on the 23rd." right. remember that thing i said earlier about math? anyway, terr's back and it's so good to see him. i can't really believe that it's been four months since he moved. everyone keeps asking me, "isn't it hard to have him staying with you? isn't it weird?" it's just...not. it's not weird and it's not painful; it's quite fun so far.

we went to wet underwear at grand central station last night, since i apparently can't seem to get enough trashy gay shit lately. unlike thursday's debauchery, however, i wasn't up til 3am, i wasn't trashed out of my mind, and i wasn't competing. since they only had three people signed up for the contest, the girl at the door was like, "i know that one of you wants to compete." i could see in terry's eye that he really did but wasn't going to. "ah, no," i told her.

i was telling hilary about it this morning and realized that the "wet underwear" contest just doesn't seem that shocking to me any more. when it first started it was just ridiculous. i mean it was always like 7 guys, usually nasty, with hard-ons grinding in a kiddie pool. with water from the kiddie pool splashing down from the stage onto the sound system and making it crackle and spark. last night it was three guys, all of whom i've already seen compete in this little contest, grinding around for a crowd of maybe 30 people. who were very sedate. no hooting or hollering. the audience basically sat there watching the contest, nursing their beers.

baltimore must be too small, i think, because there seems to be a rotating array of the same contestants. there just aren't that many people who look good in their underwear, i guess, or who are that foolish.