bitten again.

(umpteenth spider in less weeks. on my belly button!)

discothèque. i wish ambrose were alive for this. is anyone named ambrose alive right now? since i bought her way in, she was obligated to drink as much at the open bar as the cover seemed to suggest. about halfway to that quota, she was so ivre fucking mort (astheysay) she couldn't stand up leaning against the sink-shelf and the bouncers were chasing the two of them in and out of the bathroom like benny hill and on the dance floor the men were dancing a combination of like women and like scooby doo when he tries to run away.

then a man who looks more like a spider than the spider but who tells me he's never slept with his husband before tells me tonight might be the night, the night i find out i'm not really hetero, a word that when spoken by him sounds like "retro," which i'm not, not even in whatever language he was speaking. it was all fine until he touched my arm like he was made out of a thousand spiders, then i had to run to my wife whom i've never slept with and jet jet jet.