Eat your hearts out. I just hung up the phone after talking with the second most handsome man in the Universe, and he’s gay … I know that for a fact, not rumor, because when I was in my early hundreds and he was the blond, blue eyed take-your-breath-away gorgeousness of West Hollywood he took me home with him … time and time again. A cleaner home you’ll never see.

I decided to phone him because what happened here last night could not be told on a computer screen. They call it email. If they asked me, I could write a book. Been there, done that.

My gal-pal one-and-only fag hag, Liza From Boston, and I got together yesterday and I had the notion that I should prove to her over and over and over again that I make the best Bloody Marys on the Planet. I’m sure we had a good time because of the way the living room looked when a came to. Literally. To say nothing of the kitchen. I’m told I by-passed the Tuna casserole in favor of a loaf of garlic bread I ate all by myself except for the charred end piece that was glued to the baking sheet on the kitchen counter. I now have a yard full of birds devouring the evidence I so kindly shared with them.

I’m thinking of suing Smirnoff because half a bottle of their product is still in my system. Gluged down with Tomato Juice, Lea & Perrins, lemon juice, lemon pepper, garlic powder, and a healthy heap of Tabasco Sauce. My own recipe, no Celery (have you seen the prices?).

Liza doesn’t normally stay over but she did last night and thank heavens she did because of what happened to me around eight thirty this morning … according to her. I don’t remember much of it. Somehow I wrapped myself in the pink pinstriped to-the-knee mini-robe I’m wearing this summer and walked out to my spacious yard, sat in my favorite metal chair (it rocks), and promptly fell over backwards with nothing but concrete to break my fall. The concrete slab put in this Spring has no dents or cracks thank-you-very-much-before-you ask. I must have tried to right myself before screaming “Help!” Fortunately, I moved my patio furniture just days ago from the wooden deck to the cement right outside my bedroom window (enhanced with a three-tiered brick and stone garden. I raise weeds.)