What?!

I don't know exactly what sick things happen to Catholics to make them this way, but it's just twisted in my opinion.

I told Sara in no uncertain terms that the only thing it took to get me back on the horndog wagon was to tell me she'd been wanting me all day. And proceeded to prove it. Two words: Yow Za.

Okay, I proved it within the bounds of acceptable behavior for not having a preapproved date. I mostly teased the hell out of her by telling her what I'd do to her this afternoon when I get home early from my doctor's appointment. I don't care if my arm is in a cast; we're having a date. And, if I'm lucky and the girlfriends are okay with it, maybe we'll get to have a longer date on Wednesday night. This afternoon's session will be timed to end before our girlfriends get home (around 6:30 or so).

Deb and I went over to the girls' house last night around 10:30 to deliver some dogfood that Deb had bought for the boys. We ended up watching a PBS special on Philadelphia's Gay Bingo (they have that here in Atl., too, but I've never gone). One of the Gay Bingo hosts was Carlotta Tendant. It's like regular bingo, except there's a lot of drag queens on roller blades acting as BVDs (Bingo Verifying Divas) who skate around the audience of 600 and keep things lively and honest. And there's a new campy theme for the game every month. It's a hoot. They sell-out every game night in about 20 minutes.

So Deb and I came back home and got ready for bed. I was in the front of the house locking the door and turning off lights. Deb was in bed. I hear her shout out "I finally got it!"

I ask, "Got what?"

She says, "Car Lot Attendant!"

Oh my god. She's so cute. She said it was okay to relate the story in my diary and "tell all your friends how stupid I am." But she shouldn't feel bad. I was just talking to a gay coworker who watched the show last night, and he hadn't "gotten it" either.