As much as I get peeved when Emily proclaims that this blog is 'all about the boi', it's true that the Boy often gets noticed in asides here and there in various blog posts - when he's not the theme of an expanded ode, per se.
*goofy grin*
Like, the other night, when the Inner Circle hit Voodoo's at Colaba, and I couldn't help but remember back to when Boy and I would visit the place, while he was in Bombay. And though I would moan and groan and complain that it was too seedy for words, I would usually give in, and go along with him, cuz he had a point when he said there was a paucity of place in the city where two men can slow-dance. ;-) And, no matter how many men jerk off in the loos at Voodoo's, or how many trannys hit on old uncle-jis, Voodoo's continues to have indelible memories for me. Despite bumping into four very hot old f*(&buddies on the dance floor the other night, and no pun intended on 'bumping into',...
... indelible memories.
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