Hoofin' it on an LA night and in Boron

After a Hills/Real Housewives watchfest, Steph and I met up with her friend and Jennifer the Leopard band-mate Lauren who brought us to a tranny, tiki bar. The night was gay hipster, but both gay girl and gay boy, which is best for everyone. I like it as mixed as possible, always makes for the most fun.

Despite the club's less than appetizing aroma, the music was dancetabulous. It was very dancey, a bit bassy, super Miami meets LA, a combination of hip hop, gay house and Latin music, if I remember correctly. Can't ask for more than that. After several Negro Modelos and a bunch of dorky dance moves, I had to pee, but we were in the car, so we did what you do in that situation. We pulled over. As I "went," Steph spotted a coyote on the lawn of a house (pictured below). My second coyote sighting! Apparently they walk in line down the block at night through these 'burbs eating cats and such. I wonder what's happening to their habitats. No good, my puppies.  

Steph was also kind enough to point out this sign for me, below. 

Yes. No Cruising. Sure, you think, it's like some anti-drive by shit. However, maybe not. These signs are located in the old gay hood. 

No cruising, you dirty boys!

My mother never knew her father as a kid nor was close to her father's family then. However, she has recently reconnected with one of her last remaining aunts. This is Aunt Katherine who lives in Boron, CA. Since I was on that side of the nation,  my mom "asked" me to visit and meet my great aunt. 

I believe my aunt said she was elected the mayor of this tiny desert town and recently was made the honorary mayor. Kind of neat for a Wilkes Barre gal. She's been living out there since 1949, and she's now 93, I think. Next to Boron is Borax - where the cleaning product comes from. Not quite a party town. Her one story house and filled with all the essentials and more, but outside, the landscape was more than barren as it's basically in the Mohave Desert. As you can see here, past her backyard, the line of towels whipping in the wind, there is nothing but desert.