Two enjoyable parties yesterday, a somewhat sordid one in the afternoon in which my status as a sexagenarian gay porn star was celebrated, and then a very proper one in the evening at which there was an interlude of vigorous caroling during which I got to enjoy the spectacle of a roomful of atheists singing themselves hoarse about the miracle of Christ’s birth.
I suspect there were closet Christians in the group.
The high moment of the day, though, was when a cute young thing from the first party arrived at the second party, saw me, immediately realized that Exposure was a likelihood, and blushed most becomingly.
Not wishing to disappoint him, I told.
And to end the year, some more Market Street wires:
