Pooter’s always been an interesting one, whether she’s getting run out of Scotland because of false rumors that she was sleeping with a fellow teacher’s hubby, or going off to live in Myanmar (the country formerly known as Burma) in the midst of a political uprising.

So it shouldn’t have shocked me as much as it did when she texted me that she was getting married. To a nice Brit boy named Craig. Who she met while vacationing in England over Yuletide.

We’ve been a bit out of touch, but this still wasn’t the type of message I was expecting. Of course Duke and I join her for the impromptu pseudo-reception in the lounge at Wildfire the day after she and Craig tied the knot at the justice of the peace.

I came straight from the IML Leather Mart, so I had on my sleeveless sweatshirt with SCUM written on it. Luckily, Pooter was tickled with my outfit. Duke was all, “And here I was worried about being under-dressed.”

We hang out with Pooter’s coworkers, including the stunning and superfun Mary Ann and her husband, Linus Roach. Okay, so it’s not really Linus Roach, but damn if he's not a spitting image. I guess Linus is on “Law & Order,” but I don’t watch that, so I told him I only know him from playing a gay priest. He nodded, rolling with the punches.

I regale the table with pix of bondage and other fetishes, while Pooter tells us how they couldn’t decide what porno flick to rent in the hotel room, so she opted for the “megapack,” which gave them access to 30 titles, including one that was GILF-themed (think “granny”).

So we laughed and had a great time, and I wish Miz Lindsey the best (oh wait! she has a new last name now, though I don’t recall what it is) in this, her newest crazy adventure.

NAUGHTY PIX FOLLOW.
You probably won't want to look at these with your boss over your shoulder.

The debauchery continues.........

I went to the IML Leather Mart purely as an observer. It's truly another world -- not one that i want to be a part of....but heck.....i like to watch.

Tie me up! Tie me down! After i took this, someone was all, "No pictures!" I'm like, "Um, there was just a guy filming with a video camera, and that was okay?"

If you read "Savage Love" or watch "CSI," i'm sure you're familiar with the furry phenomenon. But i bet most of you haven't seen one in person. Well, actually if you've been to any theme park you've probably seen a furry. Furries dress up like stuffed animals, and somehow it's erotic for them. I was wondering what type of person would get off on that, and all i can think is that it must be those who are emotionally stunted in childhood. Any theories?

I saw this adorable pecker cap across the aisle, so i snapped a pic. Lucky me -- check out what was in the foreground:

The guy on the left was apparently the "master," and he handed me that permanent marker and said, "You took a picture -- now you have to write or draw something."

And this, my friends, is what we call "karma." You see, i carry around a small notebook, which i call the Drunken Journal, and i inflict it upon friends and strangers alike. So now i know what it's like to be put on the spot like that. And like most people, i froze up, i blanked out. But then i thought, Aw hell. Why not resort to base human nature as most people do? It was especially appropriate in this cesspool of depravity.

And with that bolt of inspiration, I grabbed the pen and drew a penis on the "slave"'s chest, with cum spurting up onto his face. It was quite a charming little depiction actually. I was quite proud of my work. I named it, "Bukkake," though Hippie had to point out that it's not bukkake if only one person does it. Potato, potahto. Artistic license!

Herewith, "Bukkake":

This booth made us feel as if we were at the Ren Faire, which is another trip to an alternate world -- only that's one in which i could happily live out the rest of my days.

The twink booth seemed a bit out of place at IML, but takes all kinds, takes all kinds.

I love this shot. It's another classic IML scenario.

Here's a dominatrix and her whipping boy. Yes, that's actually a boy she's spanking.

After we leave the market, we wander into the lobby and then up some stairs into one of the ballrooms. What to our wondering eyes should appear, but a slave auction!

It was pretty sad, really. This dude claimed to be an "exhibitionist," but wouldn't take his shirt off when the bawker asked him to. (Is "bawker" the right word?) We watched three guys get auctioned off, and most made about $100 for charity -- the last one was actually quite a cutie, and had a bidding war going on. I think he got up to $160 before this scary, long-goateed guy got him.

Jon popped a squat and texted a girl he knows. "I'm telling her that i'm in the room where she had her wedding reception...only now there's a slave auction going on."

"Make sure you put that in context," i tell him.

It was a strange dichotomy -- assless chaps and older guys in leather, one dude in a little schoolboy uniform, bidding for the right to pee on some guy, all under elaborate chandeliers.

The bitches of "Dynasty": Alexis, Sammy Jo and Krystle.

And, as a special treat: SHACKLES!

This crazyass dude is at every gay event in the city of Chicago, shuffling along. Sometimes he wears a diaper -- though our group was really taken with him denim bikini -- and he's always wearing chains. You can hear him coming a mile away. Someone told me he's some bigshot lawyer. Whatever he does, he's a big shot with the 'mos! It's honestly not Pride, IML or Market Daze without a Shackles sighting!

For those of you not familiar with IML, you're lucky.

No, i jest. It's utterly charming. It's a very special time in Chicago. When lower Michigan Avenue gets taken over by half-naked gay men, usually hairy, often tubby, almost always stinky, wearing harnesses and assless chaps. For some, it's their favorite holiday, a kinky Christmas.

IML stands for International Mr. Leather, and there's an actual beauty contest of sorts, though i've never attended. One lucky hotel hosts the festivities, scaring away all the families for one weekend every year, so as to not subject them to the dirty deeds that inevitably ensue.

About all that i can stomach is the Leather Mart, a maze of vendors peddling porn, sex toys, leather goods, ball gags, slings and the like. Needless to say, these pictures do contain some naughty bits.

And really, if there's one photo to sum it all up, it's this one:

I put on my usual IML outfit, a sleeveless hoodie with SCUM on the front, and leather pants that look like jeans. I made plans with Hippie to meet up at the Hilton, but Hippie was riding his bike downtown, as hippies are wont to do. So, when i got there, I met up with Alex out front, and he took me up to his room (yes, the dude actually got a room for the weekend, now that she's a single girl again) and he told me about his threesome last night and he let me make a vodka Gatorade, which i brought back down to the lobby. Alex was in the midst of exploring the Leather Market, so he went back in, while i decided what to do.

As i'm standing there, i see Ivan the Terrible and Lex Luthor and the rest of that gang, so i happily join them and we wind through the line to pay our donation to the "Leather Archives," which Jeff insists is actually a real place (and a surprisingly nice one at that), even though i still think it's a mythical moneymaker for Chuck Renfrow, and this line is like a friggin' Disneyland ride, and when we finally get to the ticket booth, i see that Teacher Dan's working. He's a total sweetie we met at the Big Gay Cocktail Club. Alex told me he's a 'golden boy,' if you know what i mean, wink wink, nudge nudge.

So we wander around, and things have gotten a bit more tame -- maybe it has just gone more mainstream. That being said, there were still some visual treats -- and by "treats" i do mean, "things to turn the stomach."

Check out that mug on the dame to the right. She looks how i imagine Catty's coworker Patrick's mom might look.

Look! It's a Dick in a Box!

And no, i didn't see what was in there.

The following was one of more grody things we saw (well, if you don't count the bestiality or violent fisting videos). This guy has a chastity belt on, smooshing his junk into a literal mangina.

I know, right?

Lex Luthor was all about this rubber bondage suit. He thought it was "beautiful."

I do love how it recalls those old-fashioning diving suits.

Such lovely carpeting. (It matched the drapes.)

Probably porn stars.

The filming of "Twink's First Sling Set."

We passed by and i snapped a shot of these fellas, but the tubby guy was in the midst of yelling at some passersby for taking candy from him but not his promotional material. As i walked on up the aisle, i felt something hit me on my hip. Looking down, i saw a Starburst. The fat fuck had actually thrown candy at me. "You take a picture of me and then don't stop to talk?! RUDE!"

I obviously didn't want to deal with that, so we scurried away....

(sadly, to be continued)

(for some reason i did this as a facebook note. which is obviously crazy. so i apologize if this is a repeat -- though i'll add the latest Hazel tidbits at the end!)

Our new favorite crazy, Hazel! Duke named her after some character in the old Bugs Bunny cartoons, Witch Hazel. I guess she'd dart off and leave her hairpin behind. I just remember Bugs doing drag.

Hazel is adorable, and all the baristas love her and give her free coffee. ("I think we're encouraging her too much," West said, but he still gives her her caffeine buzz.)

She has quite a fashion sense, very Little Edie from "Grey Gardens." Today she was at the coffeeshop and babbling on to me and Dukes. We can understand about 10% of what she says. This morning she was big on rape -- it came up twice -- and she was talking about someone being stabbed in the heart, and Duke thought she mentioned Mayor Daley, but i heard Jesse Jackson and Junior, and she said she needs $60 to get that room, and then went off on that whole "I may be poor on Earth, but i'll be rich in Heaven" spiel.

She left for awhile, to play in traffic and wave at the cars going by while standing in the middle of the street. When she came back, she goes, "Can i ask you a question? What's fiesty mean? It used to mean something different when i was young -- we'd say, 'That fiesty Chinaman' -- and it means a whole lot of different things." Duke and i try to make it as positive as possible, and tell her it's someone who's active and a character, with a touch of mischivousness, and that it's a compliment -- i really would take it as one -- and that it can also kind of signify a strong woman.

Hazel nods, pleased, and fesses up that someone had just called her fiesty.

But our favorite thing about Hazel is that she loves to dance. When she came back, Jeff was all, "Put on Prince!" And that was just what Hazel needed to start boogying.

I lifted my iPhone and Hazel totally caught me.

"You takin' my picture?" she asked.

"Yes, i am."

"Well, OK, then!" she said, and raised her arm and started dancing.

We felt as if we're pretty tight with Hazel, but she's still quite unpredictable. The other day she was standing in the doorway at Pause.

"Good morning!" i said to her as we passed by.

She just stared at me.

"Good morning," i repeated.

"What kind of curse you gonna put on me today?" she asked, then started muttering away.

This was our first clue that Duke was psychic in determining that her name was Witch Hazel. Because get a loada this shit:

This morning, Hazel's on the Pause sidewalk café, smoking one of her brown cigarettes. Duke walks me to the el, and there, atop a USA Today box is a ceramic angel.

"Go give that to Hazel!" i tell Dukes.

He resists, but i persists.

Finally he grumbles like a little boy, grabs the angel and stomps away, back to the coffeeshop. He's growing up. It's cute.

He handed Hazel the angel. "Here, this is for you," he said.

"Put that back!" Hazel shouted, alarmed. "I'm doing a witch ritual!"

Well, he did put it back -- though we can't help but wonder what sort of ritual Miz Hazel is up to -- and as Duke replaced the angel atop the newspaper dispenser, a CTA employee came out and said, "That's a nice gesture, but I wouldn't be surprised if somebody tried to sell it!"

Mon dieu!

I forgot to post the scariest picture of all! Crazy Joe frolicking with the heron corpse!

Herewith, and brace yourselves:

Imagine staying in a beautiful cottage on the water in Grand Haven, Michigan. What could disturb such an idyllic respite? Oh...maybe being scared for your life 'cause the hosts have put you in the same room as a death-obsessed stranger!

This was poor Adam's scenario, who had to bunk with me. Sure i get all excited to take shots of dead creatures. It's not my fault that the beach in Grand Haven presented So Many Opportunities!

When Adam would say how freaked out he was about my....let's call it a "passion"...i'd protest.

"I have other interests!"

"Like what?"

"Um, i like playing dead, too. And jumping!"

"Yeah, somehow that doesn't make me feel better."

Despite a terrified roomie, i couldn't deny my urges to document the dead.

The first night we got there, everyone was telling me how excited i would be to a) see the adorable Red Cottage, which was constructed in the 1920s, and b) see the corpse of the heron right out on the beach.

And yes, i cooed over both of these treats. That's the Wally Dichotomy.

Coming back from town, we saw a swarm of seagulls picking at a body on the beach, and thought it might have been our heron friend, which i named Hermes, after my favorite god.

Thankfully, they were just pecking a hole in this fish.

Doesn't Joe's boyfriend Brian have the most beautiful blue eyes?

In the morning, as we went out to the beach to walk toward the pier and to check out the Kite Fest, i recalled how the Greeks felt that a soul wasn't at rest until it had been buried -- even a cursory symbolic burial of a sprinkling of the earth like the kind that got Antigone in trouble.

So i picked up a handful of sand and set Hermes' soul to rest.

Thank the gods i did, because Joe comes storming onto the beach like a soldier at Normandy. He grabs dear Hermes by the beak and flings him around. I was utterly horrified and disturbed for the rest of the day. Of course, this didn't stop me from taking a picture of Joe's sacrilegious antics.

"It's my kite!" he squealed as he tossed the corpse around. When the beak broke in half, he tossed the heron's body into the air, where it landed in the sand, doubled up upon itself. Truly disturbing.

As we continued up the beach, Joe came running over. "Did you see that bird attack me?!"

Yes, while cottaging in Grand Haven at the amazing Sprunger estate, we had an actual Montauk Monster spotting! It was the size of an opposum......but obviously wasn't one, being a Montauk Monster baby!

I frightened my poor roomie, Adam, by obsessing over this and all of the other corpses littering the beach. Fear not, Reader! You shall see many more dead bodies soon!

Till then,

I remain,

Your Fearless Chronicler of Modern Mythology

Laurel...backwards

I love you all!

The Rakaya made the rounds by the end of the night.

Richard likes to hide.

It's called a wig cap, people. And it's stop the itch.

Sassy Holiday Mantis!

The future Mrs. B.Hof.

My Ma Main and, um, yes, erm, that's me.

My bag o' goodies.

Yes, all in all in was another successful excursion to....

Here are some photos from my birthday party. I always have it at the Diversey Rock 'n' Bowl. It's a tradition, and it's always a blast. My goal every year is to break 100, and i must be getting better, cuz i did it TWICE. I probably also got my highest score ever, a whopping 136! I learned that three strikes in a row is called a "turkey," and i insisted that we come up with a name for my accomplishment, two strikes in a row. We decided upon "Cornish game hen."

As you can tell, the Rayaka made an appearance. I can't help it if that wig is essentially an outward reflection of my personality.

BTW, OMG, Holiday and i have the same hair, LOL! (And you can't tell, but i suspect she's hiding a gimp-eye under those locks!)

We're not sure why, but for some strange reason, Catty has the bowling prowess. It always wins. Even on my birthday.

See how it gloats?

That helmet? Why that was one of Vanessa's gifts! Pretty rad, huh? Needless to say, it was quite popular, as you'll see.

B.Hof and Catty.

Vanessa, Catty, me and Liz.

Roomie David. (He doesn't have an iPhone, the poor dear. But don't tease!)

When i first met Devan, i heard he was from Portland. Ever since, he's been "Hippie."

Tripp, Tripp, Tripp Fantasia!

Brett, Daveed's beau.

Cutest. Barista. Ever.

My West End Girls, Laurel and Nessa.

To avoid the inevitable numerous emails i'll receive, i offer this disclaimer: Feel free to steal away and repost on Facebook.

More to come!

Thanks to all. It was the funnest!

Once upon a time, Catty and Petting Zoo Andrew and Tome and i were asked to attend About Face Theatre's Wonka Ball merely because the organizers knew our colorful, candy-coated presence would add to the lustre of the event.

No more, sigh.

Though i did get this email. I can't attend tonight's festivities, but this flash-dance-mob sounds fun!

Thought i'd pass it on:

I wanted to offer you an opportunity for tonight's Wonka Ball: we are calling for volunteers to show up midway through the party and take part in a large flash-mob dance that will infiltrate the party.  There's a YouTube video that teaches you the basics of the dance here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQmjSaOrCiA, and there's a rehearsal at 5 pm today at Salvage One (1840 Hubbard Street) and again right before the dance at 7 or 7:30 pm.  The dance itself takes place at 8:30 pm, and you're welcome to stay for the rest of the party after that. 

If you're interested in joining us, please email Dav Yendler and let him know.  He can fill you in on any details I may have missed.