Sofonda recently jetted over to the lovely city of Barcelona for the fabulous "Circuit Festival." No sooner had I touched down, when my PDA exploded with texts and voice mail messages! My super darling fabulous friend, Ultra Nate, was still stuck in her hometown of Baltimore Airport (Yikes!) with weather delays. Sofonda advised Ultra Nate to relax: Sofonda was On The Case. Before you could sing, "Here I come to save the day!" I was on the horn with the festival organizers. In no time, Ultra was rerouted on a flight to Paris and then on to Barcelona. Her Louis Vuittons, alas, remained in the lovely city of Baltimore. My babies, the "friendly skies" are a thing of the past.
Next dilemma: no luggage in a city full of hot Spanish men in tight jeans? No problemo, my darlings! I sent my driver to Ultra Nate's hotel and we sex shop-hopped until the task was done. A little latex here and little fishnet there, some boots, a huge dildo (that was mine), don't forget the thong... voilà! We pieced together one wicked performance ensemble and Ultra Nate went on to perform at the Main Event just four hours later. As always, Ultra performed magnificently, rocking her hot little outfit for thousands of screaming Circuit Festival fans!
After the show, Ultra and I skipped across to Ibiza for a few days of physical relaxation. We closed the trip with a little fun at Louie Vega's bar, El Divino, where my darling Ultra spun as DJ for the evening. For that weekend I was the Lohan to her Ronson DJ ways, without the gratuitous paparazzi crotch shot, of course. I always save that exclusive for you, dear readers.
During Southern Decadence weekend in New Orleans, as Hurricane Gustav loomed menacingly on the approach, the hot party boys stayed in a packed OZ Nightclub on Bourbon Street until the bitter end. Bourbon Pub closed much earlier, dumping their patrons like a bad trick in good lighting into the rain-soaked street, causing them to run across the street and get wet for other reasons with the partying OZ gang. DJ Eddie Baez spun until Johnny Chisholm turned the lights out for their safety, telling them they needed to get to safer grounds. Therefore, at the butt crack of dawn (that would be 8 am) Sunday morning, Sofonda had to pull up her knickers and roll out of her hottie's bed as she, along with all the other little Circuit Boys, had to do a slightly more elaborate walk of shame all the way out of the city.
Later, Sofonda hopped on her favorite mode of transportation, a helicopter, to check out the area. The entire Bourbon Street and downtown New Orleans area was a ghost town. Sofonda was happy to note that the wind did not affect Oz. (Sorry, Dorothy.) Furthermore, Oz is once again open for business and ready for Halloween. The party continues despite this pesky hurricane season, and so will I, dear readers...
Until then, may Gustav and Ike not be the only two boys blowing you!
~Sofonda
