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    Gaze About Town: Why Washington Beats South Beach
    Monday February 19th, 2007 1:00 PM by Amanda Woodward  
    Filed under: Gaze About Town

    amanda11.jpgIt’s me, Amanda Woodward, and guess what.?! It’s 1:11 am Sunday night-Monday morning, and I just remembered that I am a now a famous and respected blogger/Big Head DC All-Star. Well, better late than never. And since my tasty buns would freeze upon the impact of exiting my luxury P St NW condo building (and since I’m too exhausted to grab my little black book), there’s nothing I’d rather do right now than blog as a Big Head All-Star!

    First, let me clear something up. I am not Big Head Rob. I repeat, I AM NOT Big Head Rob. Did everyone get that? I am a living, breathing powerful Corporate CEO in the flesh and blood. I am a living, breathing diva bitch in the flesh and blood. I am a living, breathing Princess Sparklepony in the flesh and blood. And I am not Big Head Rob so stop leaving comments on his blog suggesting I am. Oh yes, I may be a very powerful Corporate CEO, but I still take breaks to surf the Internet and cruise for sex. It’s human nature, honey. I’m a gay man just like you.

    Well, this was quite a week for Amanda Woodward. First, I had martinis downstairs at Cobalt with a very old and dear friend. Said friend is also pretty dumb. Let me replay a little of my conversation with said dumb friend. “Amanda, you have to be careful when you go to South Beach. Those Muscle Mary’s down there are intentionally getting infected with HIV just so they can get steroids and become buff. It’s true.” I choked on my olive. What the hell is said dumb friend smoking, Amanda asks. You see, the big flaw in said dumb friend’s logic is this: he doesn’t realize that buying drugs in South Beach is as easy as getting your crotch waxed in Washington. And if getting drugs is so easy, why would anyone infect himself with a terminal disease to get them?

    Also this week, Amanda celebrated Valentine’s Day with an old flame that we’ll just call “Dryan” for the sake of calling him something. Now “Dryan” isn’t anything of real significance in Amanda’s life these days, but who is? And the hell if the REAL Princess Sparklepony is going to spend V-Day at home alone. So “Dryan” and I went to one of my personal faves, the Tabard Inn. What a great place that never fails to disappoint. Flashy restaurants may come in go in our nation’s capital, but a class act like Tabard Inn is really something else.

    OK babies, Amanda is starting to get tired now. You’ll forgive me if this week’s entry is a little short. It’s the only short thing you’ll ever see on Amanda Woodward. Why don’t you make up for it by telling me how much you love me in the comments? As a parting thought, Rob sent me an invitation to his upcoming party with Michael Musto. I can’t wait to see Michael again. We haven’t bumped pussies since the days of Michael Alig at Club USA. I’m also looking forward to finally meeting that hunk Jeff Gannon. Gannon’s totally corrupt and sleazy, but, honey, that just means he’s good in the sack!

    Stay tuned every Monday for Amanda’s latest dirty dish.

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