Hello? Hello? Anybody out there? Not even a maid?
Finally!!! Hearsay thought it would never get out of that sling!
There Hearsay was, holed up in yet another sling at the tail end of last weekend. You know, Mid-Atlantic Leather Weekend. It was the final year the Washington Plaza Hotel was to serve as MALÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s host hotel ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" next year, flirty festivities happen at the much-larger Hyatt Regency Capitol Hill. And Hearsay was determined to take in every last inch of it. Some poor, unsuspecting family checking in for the week would have been in for quite a shock ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" it wouldnÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢t be the first time ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" if Robert ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Wonder WomanÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s WonderbraÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â York hadnÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢t been an angel and rescued Hearsay from the sling. (He was here, there and everywhere all weekend, but why there, then? DonÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢t ask, donÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢t tell!)
This yearÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s event was more low-key than last yearÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s, when leather lads and ladies butted up against Obama Inauguration revelers, and space and time were at a premium. But still, thereÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s never anything low-key about Leather Weekend. Hearsay made its first of many weekend short stomps from the hotel to the Green Lantern on Thursday for SMDF. WhatÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s that? Sling Masters of Dallas-Fort Worth? S&M Disco Floggers? Sucking Men Disease Free? Sure, but officially, itÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s Shirtless Men Drink Free. It was so hot and packed upstairs, Hearsay wanted to take off more than just its shirt. Jayson ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“LetÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s See ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚ËœEmÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Watson, naturally, got several men to do just that, with his weekly best-of contest. But there was more to come at the DC Eagle that night, when a huddle of hotties, including Damieon Pit and Frank ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“ChicagoÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s FinestÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Guerrero, paraded around in nothing but a jockstrap. Nice to see ya!
As the weekend wore on, Hearsay saw lots more men in jockstraps and less ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" and what a sight to see! There was much man meat ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" and all kinds of play ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" on display at the special MAL edition of EFNÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s monthly CODE party Saturday night. But except for every few minutes or so, when a security staffer walked through with a flashlight, it was hard to see upstairs in the partyÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“dark room.ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Did they forget to pay the light bill? Is that you again, Mr. York? Is there someone else with you? Well, Hearsay must say, even in darkness and fog, Jacob Nathaniel ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Submission WrestlingÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Pring and David ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Leather DominatorÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Merrill sure proved they got the goods to throw a wonderful, wild party. (And the party is going national, with Code at Large throwing parties in Philadelphia and New York in the coming months.) From flogging demonstrations ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" no surprise, Nicholas ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Pup You UpÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Baatz whipped the loudest ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" to bondage play to Jake the Barber giving buzzes to fit fellas looking especially tackle-worthy wearing nothing but singlets, they definitely kicked the weekend into high gear!
Hearsay also stopped by Blowoff Saturday night at the 9:30 Club, where a less wild but no less wonderful and certainly more woofy crowd got its groove on. Now residing in San Francisco, Bob ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“District LineÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Mould came back to town to spin with Rich ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“I Love The Way That YouÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢re Breaking My HeartÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Morel. Hearsay enjoyed seeing Keith ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“I CanÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢t Believe ItÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s Not DaddyÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Iams, John ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Twist and ShoutÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Thurman and Ron ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Sure Looks Good To MeÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Brown. And then there was Mr. Hoist Leather Steven ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“London DaddyÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Dwyer, in town to serve as a judge for Mr. MAL. Try as Hearsay might ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" as much as Hearsay begged ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" the dreamy Dwyer never would hoist it. Come on, mister! It says so right there in your title!
The next night Hearsay would return to the 9:30 Club for the MAL Reaction Dance, the closing party of the weekend. The crowd was as hot and frisky as ever, with seemingly everyone fully harnessing the weekendÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s last official gasp. Paul ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Young At HeartÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Dreps was there celebrating his birthday weekend alongside his man Shane ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“My Life Would Suck Without YouÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Maye. Lots of other nasty pigs were in attendance, including the head Nasty Pig himself, David ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Chain GangÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Lauterstein. DJ David ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“One LoveÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â LaSalle turned out as fantastic of a set as Hearsay can remember at Reaction, especially as the night wore on. LaSalle played one song or remix after another that Hearsay had never heard out at a club, from R.E.M.ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Losing My ReligionÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â to Susan BoyleÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Wild Horses ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" yes, really! And former Tracks and Nation lighting guru John ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“Turn The Lights OffÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Niederhauser reminded Hearsay of how much heÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s missed around these parts. When heÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s on lighting patrol, pay attention. He be-dazzles the hell out of the place.
But thatÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s all just the tip of the iceberg ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" or the crotch of the chap, as it were ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" of HearsayÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s weekend, which also included the requisite stops at Saturday nightÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“high leatherÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â Leather Cocktails party ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" previewing next yearÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s space at the Hyatt ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" and SundayÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s Mr. MAL Contest, again at the 9:30 Club. And then there were hours of trying on stuff at the Washington PlazaÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s leather market ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Å“How does this cock ring work?” “Does this rim chair make my ass look fat?ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚Â ÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬" and still more hours milling about the hotelÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s lobby all weekend long. But thatÃƒÂ¢Ã‚â‚¬Ã‚â„¢s enough to give you a taste. Some things are better left unsaid and unseen….
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