It was about rich people kissing each other's asses and jerking each other off.
I haven't really been in one... maybe the time that I was in a group of five men, and we all were jerking each other off and peeing on each other.
You see, whenever I and my mostly liberal friends get together for single origin lattes and gender-affirming trigger parties, we spend a good amount of time pretty much jerking each other off in an orgy of mutual political affirmation.
It's actually a pretty great festival aside from everyone jerking each other off left and right with phrases like "buzz film" and "Oscar-worthy performance" or trying to convince people that they're friends with Bradley Cooper.
Inside, I joined the line behind businessmen in suits carrying backpacks the postwork closet-case crowd was just arriving, I guess and examined the portrait behind the receptionist of two gay men jerking each other off in an empty disco, until the receptionist shouted at me in Italian.
That is, life on Planet Earth summers at the beach, winters spent indoors playing World of Warcraft while listening to Paul van Dyk compilations will come to an end unless we either A) stop being jerks to each other or B) colonize other planets.
It might have even been the highlight of a sports weekend filled with the NFL Draft, the Kentucky Derby, the NHL playoffs, a Yankees/Red Sox series and, oh yeah, some sort of event where rich jerks punched each other.
As much as I hope we live in enough of an evolved world that kids are no longer jerks to each other and can appreciate a quality animal sweater, Kevin understands a simple truth: we will all be judged for our appearance, like it or not.
