Puke

I ate something last night that didn't agree with me. I think it may have been the chicken salad I ordered at a 24 hour diner. Fucking Sparky's. It's probably dumb of me to order food at a restaurant that serves omlettes and steaks at 4:30 in the morning. I mean who the fuck is eating that late in a city where bars close at 2a? I'd be tempted to say crystal queens, but hello, they don't eat.

I was hanging out with the bartending hottie when I felt a surge in my stomach. I knew what was coming so I quietly excused myself to the bathroom and stood over the toilet for a good 5 minutes before the chicken salad came out. I tried to be nonchalant about the whole ordeal but by 5 am, I was a sweaty convulsing mess.

I feel better now but for a moment there I seriously hated life, the wait and kitchen staff at Sparky's, and chicken.

With all of the throwing up I think I lost about five pounds, which is a bittersweet issue for me. I like every other gay man am always striving to increase my muscle mass and decrease my body fat percentage- so for me gaining weight is a thrill.
No doubtedly gay man have taken body facism to new extremes. We no longer just have skinny or fat, but you can be "skinny fat." Skinny arms and a fat stomach. It's one of the worst crimes a gay man can commit; right up there with faded black demin jeans and leather mandals.