Every year I make my way to Georgia for a little vacation time away from that 7-5 job that pays the bills. Usually I just go down for a weekend or two and spend all day sweating at the Tortuga Twins merchandise cart and their stage, Halfwit Harbor. Days are spent trying to keep track of friends at fest and evenings are spent cavorting with Raphael and sometimes Scaramouche and, if I’m lucky, D’Angelo. This year, however, I decided to extend my stay and see a little more of my favorite men in tights. So…I set aside seven whole days for Tortuga hijinks. And…this is how that played out.
I have finally arrived at my super-secret destination (a former Day’s Inn in Union City, GA). I know, I know… it was only a five hour drive, but I still, I’m glad I finally landed. I’m sitting in my hotel room resting up for what promises to be a very hectic rest of the week and 3-day weekend. It’s the same room they give me every year which either means they’re trying to impress me with their ability to remember me each year (ok, I’m impressed) or…this is the room that the Twins have paid them to put me in and is filled with surveillance cameras so the boys can keep tabs on my comings and goings. After several phone calls from Raphael, I am now just chillin’, settling in and resting up for a very important dinner party tomorrow night. Chef Jax thinks we’re coming over to enjoy her incredible culinary skills (we are), be we’re also going to be doing a photo shoot to capture Raphael and D’Angelo in their element.  I fear, however, that element is NOT the kitchen.
The lovely dinner table.
It is now Day Two of my Georgia/Tortuga adventure. Most of my day is spent prepping for tonight’s festivities.  Dinner is at six (or seven…I can’t remember which), but the boys and I have decided to meet up at the Jax abode at 4:30 for the taking of the photos. I enter the destination address in my trusty “navigational bitch†(yes, that’s what I call her…all of them, actually) and start on my way confident that my departure time of 3:00pm will get me there a little early since the “nb†says it’s only an hour and 15 minute drive. Yeah, right. I’ve also, as an added precaution, done a mapquest direction map to make sure I have something else to get me there. Things seemed to be going smoothly until I noticed the voice of my “navy bitch†changing. As my hour of driving time loomed closer, I realized that my new navvy thingie is recalculating. My new driving time is now 1 hour and 10 minutes. What?! How the?! Panic soon begins to set in as I realize I may very well be late. As the voice of my “I can’t believe I bought this worthless piece of navigational crap†starts to sound more and more like Scaramouche (even down to his evil laugh), I am forced to rely on instinct to get where I need to be. I quickly begin looking for road signs that will at least get me to the city I need to be in. Luckily, there are plenty. Once headed in the right direction, I use the mapquest directions to find the correct roads to get me and my newly renamed rental car (it is now the SS Minnow) to the dinner party. Yes, I was late, but that’s alright because the boys were out buying booze for the evening. 
As I said before, I was trying to capture Raphael and D’Angelo in their element for this photo shoot. That element, however, is not the kitchen and things go horribly awry when a white powder mysteriously shows up in the kitchen. It was about this time that D’Angelo decided that boots were optional and promptly took his off. I must say that the white socks were a little distracting, but at least they drew my gaze away from the apron he was wearing. Yes, the apron.
Isn't he pretty?
Next up...movie night and Meet & Greet.
