Monthly Archives: August 2019

Moment of Zen: Iced Tea


Pic of the Day


Drag Queen Trivia

Last night was a blast. The trivia was six rounds with ten questions each. I thought we were doomed after the first round which was all about stage names: they’d give us the real name of someone and we had to answer what their stage name was. After that round we came in second. We stayed in second until the fifth round when we pulled ahead on a category about reality shows, we stayed ahead in the sixth round and won the game. The prize ended up being three gift certificates to different places totally around $200.


Pic of the Day


Drag Queen Trivia

Tonight, I’m going with a group of friends to Drag Queen Trivia. I’ve participated in trivia tournaments before, but never one hosted by drag queens. The trivia questions will run the gamut but apparently will focus on pop-culture, queer culture, and campy fun. I think I’ve assembled a strong team. Ones an expert on RuPaul’s Drag Race, I’m pretty good at queer culture as is another friend of mine on the team, then we have some ladies who are both all around smart and good with pop-culture. We haven’t fully decided on a team name yet, but we’ll come up with something. Proceeds for the night go to Outright Vermont, specifically their summer camps for LGBTQ youths. Wish us luck.


Pic of the Day


I Tried

I tried to think of something to write today, but I kept falling asleep. I honestly don’t know what I’d have written otherwise.


Pic of the Day


Breakfast

Breakfast
by Mary Lamb

A dinner party, coffee, tea,
Sandwich, or supper, all may be
In their way pleasant. But to me
Not one of these deserves the praise
That welcomer of new-born days,
A breakfast, merits; ever giving
Cheerful notice we are living
Another day refreshed by sleep,
When its festival we keep.
Now although I would not slight
Those kindly words we use ‘Good night’,
Yet parting words are words of sorrow,
And may not vie with sweet ‘Good Morrow’,
With which again our friends we greet,
When in the breakfast-room we meet,
At the social table round,
Listening to the lively sound
Of those notes which never tire,
Of urn, or kettle on the fire.
Sleepy Robert never hears
Or urn, or kettle; he appears
When all have finished, one by one
Dropping off, and breakfast done.
Yet has he too his own pleasure,
His breakfast hour’s his hour of leisure;
And, left alone, he reads or muses,
Or else in idle mood he uses
To sit and watch the venturous fly,
Where the sugar’s piled high,
Clambering o’er the lumps so white,
Rocky cliffs of sweet delight.


Pic of the Day

It’s National Underwear Day!