Yesterday stayed in almost all day.
Dinner at Frank’s Whitley Heights apartment. Very little traffic on the 10. There were ghastly British people who Frank had met randomly at another party. I left early. Food was good though. He made some sort of Brazilian coconut chicken with rice.
Parking in Hollywood is shit.
I like Frank..even though his slimy British friends just wouldn’t stop talking about how much they had drunk the night before. “So Duncan, why did you come to LA?” I told them that Los Angeles had more AA meetings than any other city in the USA. They looked baffled. After a difficult moment of silent processing the Brit said, “Each to his own old chap.” He really did call me old chap.
Before dinner this black kid from the deep south sang/warbled/yodeled a prayer. I looked at my feet in HORROR.
Met JA at Soho House. Drank espresso. Miles arrived looking very dashing. Saw Eugenio Lopez and told him about Steve Martin‘s book. He was DELIGHTED and reported this to his friends. “Steve Martin has written pages in his book about meee…tell them Duncan..tell them.” I told them the Getty story. Eugenio was with an older gentleman and a slobby boy whore who he scolded for putting his feet on the furniture. Eugenio was wearing a black sequined jacket. Seemed delighted that Martin had written about him. Who wouldn’t?
I was going to hook up with some random dude from Grindr but he didn’t turn up on time so I left and we all (dogs) curled up alone in my big white bed.
Oh yeah, I forgot, Jerome (my next door neighbor) rented his house this weekend to a young couple who threw a huge, ornate wedding…could almost be described as baroque. The ceremony took place in the garden. You could hear the dreary, clichéd classical music…a good third of a mile away. All the obvious shit mixed in with random film scores. They probably couldn’t tell the difference between Ennio Morricone and Pergolesi. Idiots. A disparate group of badly dressed men and women gazing admiringly at this bride and this groom about to be locked in matrimony.
The dogs started barking during their vows. I didn’t do much to stop them. I didn’t want to hear their fucking vows broadcast over my quiet valley. Obnoxious white, straight people. A coalition of the entitled.
The party continues there today. A simpering European party/events planner slimed around to the house like a huge slug..apologizing in advance for the noise. Thank God this is a random event. Events planners btw are always the worst kind of gay and always the dullest human beings on earth. Who the fuck would ever find an events planner interesting? Oh yeah, I remember.
JB sent the money he owed me. Deal done. Goodbye JB.
A fit black guy contacted me on Manhunt. He wanted to fuck. He asked if I was good. I replied..does it matter? Do I care if you think I am good at fucking? I cum you leave. I won’t be reading the reviews.