let GO of my nipple

Feeling much better – I opted to go into work today. Aside from producing snot in super-human quantities, I’m pretty much back to my old self.

We left straight from work to JJ’s for the bear club’s happy hour fundraiser and elections meeting which followed directly after.

We don’t regard ourselves as “club types”, but since we’ve been doing the design and marketing support for the club’s run since 2000 – we are considered so by proxy. The work is gratifying because the club does so much for local charities, plus it’s nice to have a client that gives me carte-blanche in developing concepts with little static.

We try to maintain a low profile and steer clear from the clashing egos, in-fighting and political bullshit which plagues most organizations. (Especially ones run by fags or women).

For every annoying member, there’s six gems. Two of our favorites is Mike and Marty, a couple of old hippies who we simply adore.

M&M have been together for 4 less years than I’ve been alive. That kind of shelf-life on relationships is always enduring. They’re both retired carpenters who have built every gay bar in St. Louis during the 70’s and 80’s. They now live two hours outside of the city on a nice plot of land where they’ve built (and continue to add onto) their dream home.

Their most notable characteristics is Marty’s long white pony tail and Mike’s rosy cheeks. I’ll risk cliche and say they’re jolly.

Something’s happened since hitting 30. For some reason I’m completely enamored with people from my parent’s generation.

I hope when we reach that age we’ll all still be together and know that kind of security and companionship that’s forged through decades. Perhaps some young 31 year old punk will befriend us and will decide to make a holographic-blog entry about us.

Of course, the punk would deny he was holo-blogging when he makes his entry.