Wednesday, July 7, 2010
This past weekend, I went to Chicago for the Taste of Chicago and black gay pride. It was an experience to say the least. I had a blast with fiends and family and thought about what to actually write in regards to describing the experience. I decided to use my newly deemed alter-ego (from NC Thomas), Mrs. Pewtersmith.
Mrs. Pewtersmith does not do mornings.
Honey, Mrs. Pewtersmith sleeps. And while some girls are up and at ‘em when the cock crows, at that time, Mrs. Pewtersmith is usually just turning over, dreaming about her cock crowing (um, is that a paradox?).
Now Thirsty is an early bird, and when those blinds opened at 8 and Mrs. Pewtersmith had just gotten in the bed at 8… oh no ma’am. That’s what 5 hour energies and other caffeine rich pills will do to you! Hmph. Mrs. Pewtersmith needs her beauty rest.
Mrs. Pewtersmith does not drive… she gets driven.
Okay, let Mrs. Pewtersmith clarify, honey. I was willing to drive, but no one allowed me to because they said I drive too slowly. Oh well. Some girls are just bred for chauffeuring.
Mrs. Pewtersmith was born for Michigan Avenue.
I loved (window) shopping in Chicago. The magnificent mile was amazing! And they had a huge ZARA. Mrs. Pewtersmith lived! She did not necessarily shop, but she did live…
Mrs. Pewtersmith will NOT have sex in the stairwell.
But someone else will. Hmph.
Mrs. Pewtersmith goes to Casinos to spend money… not win it.
Honey, some of the girls went to Harrah’s Horseshoe to get their bills paid (and cheers to you for your earnings), but Mrs. Pewtersmith goes for entertainment. I go in to play because I have money to play with. Hmph. And yes, I lost my 20 dollars, but hey, I had it to lose. No shade.
Mrs. Pewtersmith loves her friends!
Thanks so much to those old girls who went on the trip. I had a blast. Thanks to Thirsty for the invite, AJ and MJ for company on the road and in the room, Fee for always being the big brother and leader that he is, Fin Head for the laughs (Go to the wall, June. Go to the wall), Dees for the reads, Courtney for the memories, and Thomas for the entire experience. Ah… to be a Pewtersmith indeed comes with privileges.