As some of you may know, Out Magazine‘s hosting their annual Out 100 Awards tonight: their yearly celebration of notable homos and their admirers/allies. By some stroke of queer-luck, we’ve snagged an invite (okay, it’s not really luck, Daddy David’s being honored).
To prepare for the big night, we headed over to the fag-mag’s Out 100 blog to see what they’ve got cooking. While there, we came across this post from Choire Sicha about how he and Out‘s legion of homo-journos will be blogging LIVE from said event. Pretty exciting, right? Well, not as exciting as this note from Sicha:
For those who are attending, you should feel free, even though I’m working, to hit on me should you feel so inclined.
Oh, don’t you worry, Sicha, we’ll hit on you alright. We’ll flirt to the point of embarrassment. We’ll whisper enough raunchy sweet-nothings to guarantee years of therapy. And, possibly, some time in the slammer for us.
You’ve been warned.
(Oh, and for all you kids lusting after Mr. Hauslaib, we’ll be sure to snap a few candids for your scrapbooks.)
How about we take this to the next level?
Our newsletter is like a refreshing cocktail (or mocktail) of LGBTQ+ entertainment and pop culture, served up with a side of eye-candy.
Jase
E.M.
And what a wonderful time it will be to watch all those hyenas from Out magazine at their annual fag-fest! Really, other than the fagazine, who gives a shit?
Leland
Happy for Daddy, of course. Network, network, network. And snag us an extra swag bag. But speaking of bags, WHO would want to breath the same air as that tick Jeffrey Epstein? I’m getting a gential rash just thinking about him. Wash your hands!
Leland
“gential”—OMG it’s spread to my fingers! Just the thought of him and I can’t even type. They’re swelling. And, my eyes, my eyes!
And I so wanted to see the ice sculptures of Reichen the Lyin’ Hearted and Sir Lancelot.
E.M.
Leland! Leland! You’re a man after my heart! Love your comments, I hope your rash is healing.
I would have snagged you an extra swag bag from the fags but after five minutes among those hyenas I had to relieve my overwhelming need to throw up.
And speaking of ticks, isn’t Reichen the Lyin’ Hearted the fattest money-celeb tick out there now? I mean who can’t see that he’s attached himself to “Sir Lancelot” for the money and fame?