Friday afternoon, right after work, Caitlin and I drove to the airport in Chicago and boarded a plane for Miami. At this same time, Tropical Storm Bonnie had boarded whatever Tropical Storms board, and was headed - yes - right toward Miami. Phone calls were made: did Caitlin and I want to wait or go on with the trip? I trusted the airlines, if they were going to go ahead with the flight, then I'd be on it. And so Friday evening I touched down on the white sands of Miami, Florida.

It just so happens that Joel was visiting Fort Lauderdale on his way to Puerto Rico. Well, that was half an hour from me, so given the fact that we were 3000 miles from home, and only half an hour apart, I had to have him come visit me. So I went to Fort. La-di-da to pick him up and bring him back to Miami for the day. Or the weekend. But first, we went to the gay beach in Lauderdale to check out the scene. Sexy men. Speedos and square-cuts. Hotness. We ate brunch in Lauderdale at a place called Rosie's where every menu item is named after a drag queen. Interesting menu read.

And then Miami. We hit the gay beach in Miami - 12th Street between the giant rainbow flags. We enjoyed the soft white sand, the crystal clear waters, the hot hot hot men in speedos and square-cuts. We watched two men almost drown until the lifeguards rescued them from their inner tube and rip tide. Hot hot hot lifeguards.

Then Saturday evening, we met up with Ernie and Kareem. Ernie is a friend of Chris (and JP and Ryan and probably other people I know) and Kareem is his boyfriend. Ernie lives in San Francisco, Kareem here in Miami. So we had drinks at some gay bar during a thundershower. It was rather cool. Life just goes on. Rain like I've never seen in Los Angeles, and people don't blink an eye. Amazing.

Then Joel and I hit the town for some other gay bars - I think we ended up at Twist which was definitely twisted. Now you know I like a good stripper. A hot man in a speedo shaking his ass or a dollar is my kind of good time. But this was... bad. There was a back strip lounge that had steroidy-obviously-straight guys dancing. Well, not dancing, standing, mostly. With their cell phones in their hands. Texting. Each other. Sharing pictures of girlfriends in bikinis and checking out tits. While dancing for gay men in the gay lounge. It was kind of gross. I know some are "gay-for-pay" and all, but this was too awful. I could see them texting each other, "This old fat troll is grossing me out, but he slipped me a $20, the stupid fuck." Ok, I didn't actually read that on their screen, but everything tells me that was what they were doing. You could also get a lap dance from them. They'd seat you on a stool and stand in front of you, letting you grope and pet them, even kiss them or suck their nipples. It was all too degrading. I'm all for a hot boy in a jockstrap smiling as he shakes his ass for my dollar, but these guys... well... they seemed to be mean-spirited about the whole thing. There was one very hot bartender who showed off a bit for us when we (a) noticed his So Cal shirt and (b) complained about the rough trade in the back room. He was a sweet guy. That made the night worthwhile. On the walk around town, we "came upon" the World Erotic Art Museum. I was set to go in until I saw the $15 price tag. I don't pay for porn, how am I gonna pay $15 to see non-porn erotic art?

Anyway, I'm in Miami, bitches! And I'll see y'all soon!