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Lurid Digs Update

Do you remember that time last week when a reader challenged me to go find non-gay village parties to attend for my bi-weekly social column here in Vancouver and I countered by asking readers to invite me to said secret parties so I could see for myself? Yeah…turns out the only responses I got contained no invites and readers using fake names (though if there is someone out there named Truly, I apologize for thinking you don't truly exist because unfortunately the needle on my internet Get-Real-O-Meter got stuck on GET REAL, GOLD DIGGER!).

Which in turn makes me think that these secret parties are actually after hours or literally parties in someone's apartment…and I'm sorry, Vancouver, the last time I attended a secret party off Commercial Drive, it was in an afterhours club that had beds surrounding the dancefloor. If you think you can top that, let me know because everything else since has paled in comparison.

Lurid Digs has been gaining some noteriety these past few months. They're live on Twitter: @luriddigs. One of its writers was also interviewed by fab in Toronto and here's an excerpt:

Revealing Interiors
Gay men are known for their high sex drives and good, or
sometimes florid, tastes in home décor. When it comes to internet
personal ads the two can collide as Drew Rowsome discovers in these
lurid digs.

Sounds juicy, no? I've recently decided to spice up the fall by going on internet dates again and the dazzling array of online photos are truly la maze! Think carefully before you post, boys and girls…a picture is worth a thousand words…and not all of them will be good ones unfortunately…

And here's a review of above photo from one of the site's writers:

Richard: Just for the record, I like blind people. I even used to fantasize about being blind when I was a kid. (I know: fucking Ice Castles.)
Anyway, I think blind people are awesome, and they deserve every right
to speak as they want and think as they want and, I dunno, eat as they
want or whatever, but for the love of the Americans With Disabilities
Act of 1990, they cannot be decorators. (They cannot drive
either, or operate heavy machinery, or compete in mumbletypeg
tournaments. That’s not me talking; that’s the gubmint.) I mean, see
what poor Billy has done? He’s managed pretty well with the wood — but
then, that’s a textural thing. He’s also done a good job on maintaining
a consistent pink, which for a while made me question whether he’s Helen Keller-blind
or just
mom-the-morning-after-Champagne-Night-at-the-Parisian-Room-blind. But
then I saw that Burmese many-mouthed water bong sitting right in the
middle of the Mission-style coffee table, and I knew that Billy is
really, truly blind, not Levar-Burton-with-a-banana-clip-blind, because THAT IS FUCKING MADNESS.

Yes…check it Lurid Digs. It is THAT good.

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