Bon Boyage!

I was walking to work yesterday and I thought to myself: “It’s been quite a while since I updated my blog”....and oddly enough, my favourite cowboy from the west actually told me today on MSN that it's been nine months. (Thanks for the remind J-Man)...

NINE EFFIN’ MONTHS?? Where does the time go, strutters? It seems as though it was just yesterday that I was breaking out the man-kini in anticipation for a summer full of men, muscles and mango mojitos...

And now, here I am – sitting on my couch watching the hookers across the street freeze to death in their thigh high plastic boots. The summer seems like nothing more than a distant memory.

So, where do I start? What to share with my beloved strutters? I mean, SOOO much has changed since our last tete-a-tete.

*** Maybe I can tell you about my hot-new-architect-by-day-comedian-by-night-BMW-driving-well-hung-film-loving-tennis-playing BF who not only has a walk-in closet that’s decorated with the likes of Dolce and Dior – but more importantly, we’re the same size?!
(OK – maybe not).

*** Let’s see....Work? (Um, I plan parties. Next.)

*** Hot dates? (Well, I literally got home from a date about 25 minutes ago and considering it's now 8.52 pm on a Tuesday night....well, I don't think I really need to share all of the exciting details. Let's just say that he suggested "meeting for coffee"....I think I was asleep before I got there).

*** Weekend escapades? (....I'm planning on visiting my Mom next weekend in Glen-hole. Rumour has it that there's a euchre tourney in the works. Does that count?)

I actually celebrated a birthday last month....and as I turned another year older - I couldn't help but wonder when will the fun in a "young", single gay man's day-to-day life start to fizzle? With invitations to engagement parties and baby showers clogging my inbox from week to week, is it only a matter of time before I'm expected to conform as well? I'll be honest, my worst fear in life is finding myself in assless chaps knocking back the Budweisers at the leather bar down the street - ALONE - but I certainly don't think that I'm ready to exchange my martini glasses for baby bottles just yet.

(Can you imagine...I just learned how to do laundry in the Spring!)

So, when I start to hyperventilate about what the future holds for me, I rely on the wise words of my dear friend Dave. You see, he is a firm believer that most gay men will chemically combust at the ripe ol' age of 35. And as each gay year passes, it brings you that much closer to the inevitable abomination from the social circles which you once ruled. Fortunately for us however....

WE AIN'T DEAD YET! As my mother always says: "There's still a few good miles on this ol' girl!" (....as she shimmies her shoulders back and forth - slighlty channeling the likes of Charo from the 70's).

And despite the efforts of those 86-lb. teenage twinks trying to break OUR circle on the d-floor every Friday night, I only have one thing to say: "STEP BACK BITCH....cuz we ain't going out without a fight!"

(....and by fight, I’m CLEARLY referring to a bitch-slap....a shrill or two....perhaps a Cosmo being thrown in the fay....and then taking each other home to wrestle it out under the sheets).

Gotta love the gays!

So, with a common mission to have as much fun as possible before it’s our time to be taken out back behind the shed and put out of our misery a la Old Yeller – Dave and I decided hop on a plane and sleep our way through the Greek islands this past summer. And that’s exactly what we did.

And this strutters, is where I pick up where I left off nine months ago. I hope you enjoy....

(Obviously, there is NO WAY that I can cram two weeks of Greek debauchery into one post – so these will come in spurts over the few weeks until you tell me to stop...which I’m sure won’t be the case :-)

Here we go....

GREEK GETA-GAY

So, it’s about 3 pm on Saturday, June 21st and I’m standing in a sea of man-kinis and flip-flops in the middle of my apartment – Wildberry Cooler in hand. Dave said he was bringing one carry-on bag and a back-pack and I should do the same. HA! Yeah right. How long have you known me? My toiletry bag is bigger than most suitcases. Trust.

That being said, I figured the 5 Louis Vuitton trunks might be pushing it a little. So, in true Paul-style, I decide to spend my afternoon looking for a new bag for the trip. After roaming the Evil Centre for a couple of hours (admittedly a little tipsy from the coolers)– I came up empty handed. Coincidentally however, my friend Nikki calls....I tell her what I’m doing....yadda, yadda.....she says she has a bag that I can borrow. Perfect!

So I haul ass down to her condo on the waterfront. Well, about 7 Rum & Diets later - I realize that I still have to pack before I make an appearance (avec Dave) at a b-day party that night, which I then realize is only an hour away.

Thinking that my flight isn’t until 2 pm the next afternoon, I rationalize to myself that I’ll go for ONE drink, be home at a decent hour and pack in the morning. Done.

Back in a cab I get and head to Dave’s condo where I’m welcomed to a batch of his famous “Dirty Daisy” martinis.

Two hours later - we’re spinning to Donna Summer’s “I’m Going Crazy Just To Let You Know” in the middle of his living room - martinis flying everywhere - his carpet now matted - eyes FULLY crossed.

Realizing it’s 1 a.m., we grab our purses, catwalk down the street, boot down the front door and jump on the bar. “DRINKS!”

(Honestly, who do we think are?)

As I proceed to order tequila shots (which I hadn't consumed since a nasty night at the Rideout in London, ON when I was 17 years old)....I signal to the DJ to come over to the bar to have a shot with us. But before I give it to him, I instruct him to lick the salt for HIS shot off of MY thigh.

(And yes, the shorts were off....just in case you were wondering).

As this is happening, Dave sneaks in the DJ booth to look for a little Donna Summer.

(Honestly, who do we think we are?)

Of course, we’re invited to the after-party and of course, we go. Things become a little faggy...I mean, foggy....after that point. All I remember is that when someone suggested a game of “Spin-The-Bottle” it was time for yours truly to get his salt-encrusted thighs into a cab. Dave’s eyes, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree in excitement as he clapped: “Can I spin first, can I spin first?” Needless to say, I left Dave at the party.

Keeping in mind that I still hadn’t packed AND my flight was at 2 p.m. AND I had to be at Pearson 3 hours before my international flight.... Take a wild guess what time I got up? Come on....just guess.

11.45 a.m.

Yeah, that’s right. Bag of Doritos in hand....alarm clock blaring....flip-flop dangling from my left big toe. Cute, non?

And to quote Blair Waldorf - the first words out of my mouth: “Mother-Chucker!”

So, did I manage to make the flight?? Stay tuned....lots more juicy details to come.

In the meantime, I thought you might enjoy this little riddle I came across the other day....

>A cabbie picks up a Nun.

>She gets into the cab, and notices that the VERY handsome cab driver won't stop staring at her.

>She asks him why he is staring.

>He replies: 'I have a question to ask, but I don't want to offend you.'

>She answers, 'My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive.'

>'Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me.'

>She responds, 'Well, let's see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2, you must be Catholic.'

>The cab driver is very excited and says, 'Yes, I'm single and Catholic!'

>'OK' the nun says. 'Pull into the next alley.'

>The nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush.

>But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.

>'My dear child,' said the nun, 'Why are you crying?'

>'Forgive me but I've sinned. I lied and I must confess; I'm married and I'm Jewish.'

The nun says, 'That's OK. My name is Paul and I'm going to a Halloween party.'

Happy Halloween!

....be safe with your tricks and have fun with your treats!

Enjoy this week's edition.....

STRUTTIN' 101

What to Wear: A.D.D. Winter Jacket

What to Denim: Naked and Famous

What to Shoe: Paul Smith York Boot

What to Eat: Poutine from Teatro

What to Drink: Peroni Beer

What to Movie: In honour of Halloweek - SAW V (....which is not the largest grossing horror movie franchise of all time!)

What to TV: ER (It's the final season and it's still as good as the first! But the real question is, will Clooney return?)

What NOT to TV: 90210 v.2 (...I'd rather watch reruns of Full House.)

What to DVD: The Strangers (...is Tamara home??)

What NOT to DVD: You Don't Mess With The Zohan (...time to retire Sandler.)

Song of the Week: Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It) - Beyonce

LAUGHTER-NOON BREAK: "Say Hello To Your Mother For Me...."

"Flava" of the Week: MARTIN ARCHAMBAULT

....from SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE CANADA (...no need for explanation.)

CHECK IT OUT.....

'tis the season to DAZZLE

Be sure to check out Holt Renfrew's 4th Annual Holiday Window Unveiling with a special performance by Patti LaBelle!

Wednesday, November 5th from 6.30 pm to 7.00 pm - on Bloor Street, in front of the store

...the street will be shut down for the countdown!

BIRTHDAY SHOUT-OUTS...

Erin O'Grady

Allison Saretsky

Jessica Kamphorst

Dean Davidson

Mike Brydson

Alice Ko

Andrew Aitchison

Matthew Onion

Gord Yungblut

Nicolle Balen

Nicole Brown

Susannah Kilroy

Justine Touch

Lova Sarah

Karen Bruce

Jefre Nicholls

Andrew Matheson

Meghan Symsyk

Well, that's it for another week.

Keep struttin'!

And always remember,'...no matter how hard you try....you'll never be as good as me!"
- Smith