Glennalicious: Culture and Fluff

February 06, 2005

Culture and Fluff

Fridays usually aren't that good, at least until I get over to Derrick's place. Teaching is usually worst on Fridays, I'm tired, and I hate going up to Derrick's place via subways. Of course I couldn't be dating a man two blocks away. I had to get serious with a man on the other side of the Manhattan planet. 125th and Broadway is about three blocks from Egypt, as far as I am concerned. Traditionally, I spend every Friday night up there at his place, then he spends the rest of the weekend at my place. Once I'm up at his place, I decompress, eat whatever snacky bits he's prepared, and we get our cuddle on. Then everything is good again.

Saturday was such a great day. The sun was out, we were out on the town, and culture was afoot (with five gay toes even). Derrick and I met up with Simon, John, and Ted to go to some exhibits at the International Center of Photography. The latest exhibit upstairs was a bit boring, but I really enjoyed the Meatyard photos downstairs. They weren't photos of Meatyards, but photos by a guy named Meatyard. Isn't that just the coolest name? It's like Wolf Blitzer, but with carnivorous overtones.

Afterwards, we went to Fluff, where I had a chocolate covered Fwinkie, a pink Snowball, and a coffee with real sugar. I have to admit I don't recall much of the conversation because of all the humming in my ears. I was really just focused on trying to sit still, as I really just wanted to be like one of my kids.

I became obsessed with this sketchy old woman walking back and forth outside. She had on white leotards over her chicken legs, and her big panties were a luminous shifting creature lurking underneath. Her hair was definitely on the bad crazy side, and her makeup looked like it had been applied during a bumpy flight on Aeroflot. I was certain she was prostituting, but it obviously had to be charity. I remember John said something about sticking a nickel in her slot, and I could just hear the change rattling around.

Yep, after a day of culture, I dredge the bottom because of my sugar addiction. The Fwinkie was really good, I must say.

Posted by G at February 6, 2005 04:19 PM

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Comments

Okay, I'll ask. What's a Fwinkie? I feel like (once again) something important has passed me by.

Posted by: Jess at February 6, 2005 06:36 PM

Ditto.

And with all that sugar floatin' around in your system... hoo-hah! No wonder you couldn't sit still.

Posted by: palochi at February 7, 2005 05:03 PM

I had some of G's fwinkie after I ate my own fwinkie. Ya know, that sounds DIRTY. But actually, it was kinda sweet. Har.

Posted by: ted at February 7, 2005 05:06 PM

Legally, they can't call theirs a twinkie, so they call it a portmanteau of fake and twinkie, or fwinkie.

I'm amused that something made with real ingredients is considered the 'fake' one.

Posted by: Glenn at February 7, 2005 05:31 PM