Gay brunch. It's a weekend staple. Wake up at noon, throw clothes on and stumble out the door to the bar, where you eat eggs and drink more mimosas and bloodies than anyone probably should. The ratio of alcohol to food traditionally should be approximately 3 to 1. Hair of the dog, right?
But seriously, I love brunch. You get to eat breakfast foods in the early afternoon. WITH ALCOHOL. But the best part of gay brunch isn't the hash browns - it's the rehash. The whole purpose of brunch is to get everyone together to put the pieces together from the weekend. If you were a sloppy blacked-out mess, it's when you find out exactly how ridiculous you were. You find out who went home with who and who struck out. And then, once the drinks are kicking in, the bitchiness starts. I love it.
Oh, and the hash browns are pretty good.
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