I'd like to get out of the city next weekend, go somewhere green. Aw heck. Next weekend I'm going to a benefit for a buddy of mine who is Mr. Northeast Leather Sir. He's having a fundraiser for himself so he can go down to the the World Mr. Leather Sir contest (or something) in Fort Lauderdale. And, it's the Blessing of the Beasts at Chruch for the Feast of St. Francis, and I'd like my beast blessed, please.
Maybe I can go to Reading on Friday evening, stay all day Saturday, and head back on Sunday morning. Huh. Or I guess I could go home. But That wouldn't be a lot of fun. Or would it?

I'm 37 years old. Why why why why am I incapable of saying to my parents, "I'm going out to a gay bar now. I'm wearing these leather pants to up my chances of picking up some hot farm boy." Now would that be so hard? Honestly, that's what keeps me from going back to dear old Bucks County more often. I should get over that, right?