Brian was talking to me this morning about his night at a bar called The Hole on Monday night. They host a wet stripper contest or something along those lines. You can see the winner here. A few times, Brian's been one of the judges of the contest. No wonder he likes this place.
After the boy won, he got pretty trashed and began divuldging some information to the people around him, including Brian. He said that he had this millionaire "dude" as he referred to him as, who he lets touch his muscles while he jacks off. The man in turn pays the guy $200 bucks and the boy can leave.
I have a confession to make. No, I've never had millionaires touch my muscles while they rub one out. I don't have muscles. That would make it pretty difficult.
But I have done something quite similiar. It's time for a confession.
About 12 years ago, I met this guy online from a small Texas town about an hour away. He's married and has children. He's also bi-sexual and his wife knows about it. Hell, she's the one that created his screenname which was something along the lines of BeardLover or BeardFreak or possibly, BeardBatShitCrazy. Who knows. Over the course of talking for weeks, he finally told me that not only does he just have a beard or facial hair fetish, he's almost coo coo for cocoa puffs over them. Seriously.
He eventually asked if he could meet me, but not until I had grown my beard out as full and as long as I could stand. He then said he would pay me $250 if he could just film my beard for about 20 minutes. He told me that he had probably 1000's of these homemade videos. Ok, now I wasn't making much money at the time at my job. Times were tough and I needed the extra cash, so I figured why the hell not. I had seen a picture of the guy and he was actually quite handsome. So I agreed to his little proposal.
About four weeks later, my beard was bushy and we met at a hotel about an hour from Dallas. We weren't in the room five minutes, before he's literally going ga ga over my beard. He was touching my face and making odd coo'ing noises. I stopped him and asked him about the money and if he wanted to get started filming. My full face would not be filmed, only a very close up of my beard.
The filming started and he finished in about 20 minutes. There was no touchy feely, no spanking the monkey or anything like that. Once we were done, he handed me the cash and we went our seperate ways.
Hours after our meeting, he's online begging to meet me again. I figured, hell why not. If this guy is willing to pay me for something like this, who am I to say no? Yes, I felt like the biggest whore on the planet. It wasn't the first time and surely wouldn't be the last.
This went on for weeks. I grew it out longer. I shaved it down to a goatee, then eventually a fu man chu styled stash. Each time, paying me $250.
Finally, the big pay off happened. He asked if he could choke the chicken while he touched my beard. He tried to only pay me $250, but I told him for something like that it would be $500. Damn, now I'm negotiating prices!
He agreed and we proceeded to do the deed. It wasn't a difficult thing for me to do since like I said, he was quite handsome.
After this last meeting, I became his pimp. I hooked up friends with this guy so they could make some cash as well. Unfortunately, I never made any money off of those extra transactions.
So there you have it. I've whored out my facial hair.
Anything anyone out there would like to confess to?
I've finally gotten up off my ass and into the gym. A new gym actually. Brian was my only source of motivation to go to the gym and with him gone during the week, it was easy to plant my ass at home and not go. Combine that with the fact that I absolutely hated the thoughts of coming home, taking care of things around the house and heading to gym around 9pm just so I would miss the after work rush hour crowd. By the time I would get my cardio completed along with some weights, two hours of my life was gone.
I came home exhausted and irritated.
Not to mention that I just hate a gym atmosphere. I'm extremely selfconcious. I don't like working out with a bunch of muscle heads (at least that's what our gym is like). I don't like working "in" with people on their machines and don't like them working in with me. My dream would be to have my own personal trainer, working out in my own personal gym. When I win the lottery, maybe I'll look into that.
Steven mentioned to me how much he likes his "gym". It's called Private Workout ran by The Cooper Institute. The concept is simple. Fifteen machines, one minute on each machine, two rounds. First round is 20 reps, the second is 12 with increased weight. They sit you down and find out what sort of goal you have. Most come in to lose pounds and inches. I'm there to gain weight and gain inches. They figure out your goals and a workout routine to achieve that goal. The best thing is that each machine is in it's own individual interconnecting room. A voice on the music track tells you when to move to the next room. No one watches you work out. You work out individually and by yourself.
The great thing about the whole experience is that the workout only takes 30 minutes. The first week, I felt as if I was going to pass out by the time I finished the 2nd round of 15 machines. Circuit training was not my friend in the beginning. After that first week, I reluctantly went into the gym, worked out on my own without my trainer and I felt amazing afterwards. I had so much energy.
At the request of the trainer, I'm digesting around 100-120 grams of protein a day and my goal weight is 192 pounds. I'm currently 170 pounds. She thinks I should be able to achieve this goal within 6 months.
We'll see. I'm not holding my breath.
The odd part is that I'm actually enjoying working out. This is such a foreign concept to me. Knowing that I can be finished in 30 minutes and get a great cardio and full body workout motivates me to going 5 times a week. I don't have to be forced to go. I just wish Brian was here so he could enjoy it as well. He's been wanting to get back into the gym as much as I have, but has been lacking in the motivation as well.
For someone who's bee 140-150 his entire life, reaching a goal of 170 never seemed possible. If I make this new goal of 192, I'm throwing a party. Seriously.
Y'all are invited.
This time of year has become so busy, we've had to sit down on a few occasions and go over our plans. We're as busy as a one armed paperhanger. No offense to all my one armed readers out there. We had to plant our asses down with a calendar and mark the dates of all upcoming events, trips and visitors. Before we did this, we found ourselves planning things on top of already scheduled things. Not good. I'm so anal retentive as Brian puts it, if we had coal, we could shove it up my ass and make diamonds.
We ended up going to Rainbow Ranch this weekend due to one of these little mishaps. We had planned to go next weekend. We called Brian's parents and everything. Stupid me realizes that we have incredible seats I bought for Cirque Du Soleil's Corteo that weekend. I bought these tickets 6 months ago. I can't remember where I ate for lunch yesterday, let alone tickets I purchased a half a year ago.
The reason we had to make it down to The Ranch was to move our trailer. No, we haven't been kicked out, although we should for not going out there very much for the past couple months. Our good friend Matt is moving out of his primo spot in The Heights. The heights is the name that was given to an area of The Ranch that was landscaped quite nicely with brick sidewalks, grass, bushes, flowers, landscape lighting and even a sprinkler system. I remember seeing a chandelier hanging in the trees as well. Matt is moving out of the Ranch to concentrate his efforts into buying his first home in Houston. He wanted us to have first opportunity to buy his spot. Normally you don't have to buy a spot, but when someone already has a deck, gravel driveways and landscaping, you purchase what they're leaving behind. We jumped on the chance.
We spent all weekend with Brian's parents cleaning the site, raking leaves and moving shit around. They even brought us our very own golf cart. Most of the cool permanent people have their own carts they drive all over The Ranch on. They even brought us down one of those rod iron canopy things to put patio furniture under. We're going to be so stylin' once everything is done. Anyone want to come to The Ranch for a work weekend? We promise good food, lots of fun and possibly seeing us naked.
The biggeset highlights of the weekend was hearing one of the Ranch people run through the ranch yelling, "FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!". Up fronts towards the entrance, they have a small pond they're stocking with fish and building a fishing pier. They needed to clear out some of the brush and burn it. Probably not a good idea to do that I guess with a forecast of 50 mile an hour winds for that afternoon. The winds picked up out of nowhere and before you know it, a large area was burnt to a crisp. Luckily the wind was blowing away from the ranch, not towards it. The only drawback was that not one of the local firemen were hot, but they did show a lot of buttcrack.
Before this weekend, our Ranch spot never felt like home. We knew we needed to build a deck and landscape. The thoughts of getting it done seemed like an endless task. Plus, I hate working in the yard. I like to hire that sort of thing done. My hands and nails are such a mess today, I'm going to need an extra hour in the pedicure chair this week. Now, we have a place that feels like a 2nd home and we have to do very little to maintain it.
Once we got back to Dallas yesterday, Brian went to a Dallas Stars game with Steven. From what I hear, Brian was yelling and screaming (like a little girl) towards the end and really getting into the game. We ate some dinner and went over our calendars one more time before he headed back to San Diego. It's like he's here one minute and gone the next. Can you tell his traveling is getting to us lately?
The weekend was completed with Steven and I watching the snoozefest 4 hour Oscar show.
I was too tired to even care who won.
I'm not one to post You Tube videos on my blog, unless they're mine. But once in a while, one comes along that I absolutely love and must share. It's from Boston Legal.
I'm not a big concert goer. Well, not as much as I would like to be. I absolutely love going to concerts and experiencing the atmosphere, the sets, the costume changes, the music, the voice. To me, nothing beats seeing your favorite groups perform live. This can be good and bad. Sometimes your favorite group sounds like shit when you hear them live. I've made it a point to start going more often this year and we seem to have started off the year right.
Last night I went to see Christina Aguilera. I know what you're thinking. I was a 41 year old man in a sea of 13 year old screaming girls. Not so. Well, there was a lot of screaming little girls, but the age range was all over the map. Steven had asked me a few weeks ago if I wanted to go with him. I recently had bought her latest 2 cd set and loved it, so I thought why not. Now that she's got this 30's, 40's thing going on in her music, I've grown to respect her musically more then before. I always new that the girl had an incredible set of pipes on her and some pretty good songs, but hearing what she did last night totally blew me away. Not one missed note, nothing out of tune, not one missed beat. I honestly can understand how someone can get out there and sing that forceful for 2 hours straight.
It was truly one of the most amazing live performances I've seen in a long time. This coming from someone who's seen Erasure, Depeche Mode, Janet Jackson, Cher, Elton John and a host of others. On top of everything else, the sets were great, she changed outfits every single song and talked to the crowd. If she comes to your city or somewhere close, I highly recommend that you go see her.
The opening act was The Pussy Cat Dolls. Basically hookers in skimpy clothing who need a pole to be able to dance well. The lead singer can sing pretty well and I'm sure she'll be going solo soon. I have a feeling that half the other girls in the group didn't even have their microphones turned on.
Before them was some group called Danity Kane. Why, when you already have a group of whores who sing opening up for you, would you also have a pre-whore group opening up even before that. It made no sense.
We were watching the group perform and had to ask the girls who were singing along to their songs, who they were. We thought they were the Pussy Cat Dolls. They said they came on next, but that this was Danity Kane. We felt really old at that point. Sitting there talking trash about both groups saying this is the reason for 13 year old girls dressing like sluts and wanting to have sex at such a young age.
I've become my parents.
This concert put me in the mood for the next one. The Scissor Sisters. We're all so excited. I think there's going to be six of us going. I'll even be more excited, as long as I can get close enough to have Baby Daddy's crotch sweat being flung in my face during the concert, I'll be a happy man.
Not that I have a little crush on him or anything.
I know you all might not be as excited to see these clips as we were, but if you would like to see us being silly, a few clips from the park and snippets of the parade and fireworks, please take a look.
The ending is my favorite part.
Click here to see all the pictures from our Disneyland adventure.
If you don't mind looking at picture after picture of Brian and I in our Mickey ears and tons of shots of the park, then take a gander at our day.
I arrived around 8pm on Friday. My flight was a little behind. By the time I landed and was picked up at the airport I was pretty crabby and ready for food. He knows me so well. He immediately took me to Baja Betty's for some "Mexican" food. I'm just spoiled after living in Texas for so long. We chugged a pomegranate marg, followed by a banana one. I was too tired to do much of anything else, so we retired to the hotel.
We were up at 5:30am so we could eat breakfast and get on the road. It's probably an hour and a half drive from San Diego to Anaheim. I can't begin to tell you how much the area has changed since we were both 15 years old. That was the last time either of us had been to Disneyland. Once we entered the park, we were blown away at how small everything was. When you're a kid, everything seems larger then life. As adults, we were amazed at how tiny the caslte seemed to be and how small the park in general. It's no bigger then our Six Flags park here in Dallas.
We were off and running the minute we walked in the door. We bought our Ears and proceeded to go from ride to ride the entire day. I snapped tons of photos. My Mother's favorite place from all of our vacations as a kid was Disneyland. I took a lot of photos especially for her. She's so excited to see them. She just called me today and was all sad sounding, saying how at the age of 79, she'll probably never ever get the chance to visit the park one more time. I wish I could convince her to fly. If she would, I would buy her and her husband a ticket and we could meet them there. It would be a dream of mine for her to see it again.
We spent from 8am to midnight at the park. I can't even begin to tell you how exhausted we were by the time we left. Sunday we ate Brunch with one of Brian's co-workers and her family. We ate at this quaint little place on the pier. We both had a few mimosa's which for some reason caused us to need a nap right afterwards. The weather turned a tad bit cold before we headed to The Hole for drinks. That place is exactly like The Door here in Dallas. It almost felt like home, except for there were more cute men. After meeting some "interesting" people while hanging out with Drub, we three headed to Brian's for a late dinner.
I had a *wait for it.....* Peanut Butter, Smoked Bacon and Cheddar Cheeseburger with Fries.
Yes, I was off my cholesterol diet that night.
I can't wait to go back. Since Brian's project will probably last through April and possible *groan* July, I'm sure I'll be making another trip out west. Next time we plan on hitting The Zoo and Seaworld and who knows, maybe another trip to Disneyland.
No matter how old you are, this truly is one of the most magical places on earth.
I can't tell you how much fun we both have had this entire weekend. Disneyland was all I remember it to be and more. I told you we would be buying Mickey ears and wear them all day. We were like little kids. Hopefully after I get back home, I can put together some sort of ZeitCast and link to all of our pictures.
It wouldn't be us without putting silly shit on our heads. We almost bought these Dumbo and Eeyore ears.
We ended up meeting Drubskin at The Hole on Sunday afternoon. This place reminds us of The Hidden Door back home. Lots of hunky, hairy men and cheap beer. I can't begin to tell you what a pleasure it was to meet this big ol' sweetheart. We had an amazing time with him at the bar and then at Brians Restaurant afterwards.
I can't wait to be able to hop back in a plane and head this way within the next few months. We'll have to schedule a day or two more so we can enjoy Disneyland again and hopeully get a chance to visit the Zoo and Seaworld.
See you all on Tuesday.
M I C...(See ya real soon!) K E YYYYY! ...(Why? because we like you!) M O U S EEEEEEEE!
Please tell me a few others out there remember The Mickey Mouse Club song.
I'm heading out this afternoon to leave this bitter cold weather and enjoy some sunny, warm California sunshine. I'm lucky that Brian's company is so cool. For those weekends where I want to get out of town or he can't fly home, he can fly me up to wherever he's at for free. I'm heading for San Diego. The first city that Brian and I made our first trip to. We both fell in love with the place and always said that if we won the lottery, we'd by ourselves a beachfront home there. A girl can dream can't she?
The highlight of the weekend will be on Saturday when we drive to Anaheim to go to Disneyland. Despite being 41 years old, I'm still the biggest kid at heart. My father would save up all year long to take his family to California. We probably visited Disneyland at least 8 times growing up. I could tell he really didn't care for it, but he did it for us. Even after my brothers and sister moved out of the house, he still took my mom and I a few times. I can't help from thinking about him at the thoughts of going again.
I hope everyone has a safe and wonderful weekend.
I just can't wait to buy a pair of Mickey ears. Oh, don't think I won't be wearing them all day at the park.
Normally, I NEVER post twice in one day, but this was WAY too funny (I'm going straight to hell) to pass sharing with you all:
I feel all butch this morning. Well, maybe I should say butcher then normal. Was that a snicker I heard across the globe? Last night, my friend Steven took me to my first Dallas Stars game. When he showed up in his overly priced team shirt with some other guys name on the back, I felt a little bit odd dressed in my normal Kenneth Cole. Steven's parents have Platinum level season tickets. Not only do they get tickets to every hockey and basketball game, but any event that happens at the American Airlines Center during the season. Christina Aguilera, The Police, Dixie Chicks to just name a few. I get to see Christina next week. I'm hoping he can take Brian to a game there as well before the season ends.
Have I mentioned how excited I am that Steven's our new friend? We heart him and it's not for just his tickets.
Many of you probably already know that I'm not a lover of sports. Gym class in grade school through highschool was torture for me. I was the clumsy, awkward kid who no one wanted on their team. I was the art, drama and music fag all rolled into one. I throw and catch like a girl (who's not a lesbian or Tunagirl) and I can admit that. I've tried watching sports throughout my life. I tried to get into Nebraska Football along with the rest of my entire family who are rabid season ticket holders themselves. Every single niece or nephew has had full ride scholarships to colleges of their choice practically for various sports. Their children are turning out the same. One niece married a Nebraska football player. Another niece dated two football players as well, one who became a player for some pro team. She married the star football player from my old college. My nephew played in the minor baseball league until he threw out his shoulder. He was destined to be great I feel.
So what the fuck happened to me? My Mom must have been sleeping with the Postman or something.
I've been to a few baseball games here and there. They're fun only because of all the hot players and all the hot daddy's who come to watch them play. I'm never bored because of the eye candy alone. I even understand why they're running around that diamond shaped thingy and hitting that ball with their big strong bat.
I've never been to a hockey game, but I enjoyed the hell out of it and hope to go again. I want to take Brian now. We got princess parking, which was the first big bonus. We had our own entrance into the stadium, plus our own VIP area to eat one of the most amazing buffet's I've ever seen. The seats were half the way up, center ice. You can't help from getting caught up in all the flashing lights, smoke machines and loud music. They even had what Steven referred to as Ice Whores. Scantilly clad girls with big boobs who skated around on the ice, getting the shavings cleaned up during commercial breaks. Our section even had it's own waiter who brought us more food and beer. Oh I should mention that the game was actually very entertaining to watch even though I didn't understand most of what was going on. The men were hotter then baseball players. My only gripe was that there weren't enough fights. I wanted to see blood on the ice just once.
I felt sorry for the people in the nosebleed seats. But I realized that once these season tickets run out, that will be me sitting up there gasping for oxygen.
Ah, Valentines Day. The day that single people have grown to despise with every fiber of their being. When I stop and think of all the years past, I was probably single during this holiday for most of my dating life. The only short time I wasn't, was when I was dating Melissa.
This was during my college days. I was blessed with the joys of dating someone who's birthday actually fell on this Commercialized Day from Hell. She was a needy woman who not only felt I should go out of my way to shower her with gifts for her birthday, but I had to make sure I also did many special things for her for in honor of Valentines Day as well. I literally had to cut classes all day to make sure I sent her a singing telegram, covered her car with balloons and crepe paper, had flowers delivered to her in class (twice), gathered her and her friends together for lunch and cake, showered her with little gifts throughout the day (three times) and ended this whole fiasco with a romantic dinner at night. We dating for only two years thank GOD. Otherwise I would have had to kill her. I couldn't afford her anymore.
I blame Melissa for the bad taste that Valentines Day left in my mouth. Did I ever receive anything from her on his day? No.
From then on like most single people, I grew to loathe the coming of this day. It even got to a point where I found myself horribly depressed that I was still single. Even when I was dating someone, we found ourselves breaking up before any of the major holidays such as Christmas and New Years. Maybe I just dated cheap ass guys who wanted to make sure they didn't have to spend any money on me.
I hated going to work and watch all the girls (and a few guys) get flowers from their partners. I hated going out to dinner with friends while we watched the loving couples, hold hands, eat heart shaped ravioli and share a bottle of champagne while they professed their love for one another for two hours. *insert vomiting noises*
Eventually it got so bad, you would find me and all my other single friends sitting at a bar on this day, drinking out sorrows away. At some point, someone started sobbing into their vodka tonic. Talk about pathetic.
Then I realized something. Why do we put so much emphasis on a day like today just because all the advertisers out there tell us this is the day that we should express our love for that special person in our life? We can do that any day of the year. It doesn't even have to be limited to husbands, wives or partners.
There are many forms and varieties of love.
I had to laugh my ass off last night while hoards of men were crowded around the cards and candy isles at Walgreens. Dammit, I should have taken a picture. Nothing like waiting until the last minute guys. Grocery stores were packed full of men who forgot to thoughtfully order their flowers ahead of time and needed to pick up a cheap dozen roses wrapped in a plastic bag with ribbon. I'm sure they bought their partners a ballon, a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. But it's the thought that counts, not what the gift is or how much is cost, right?
Even after 3 years of dating being attached at the hip to Brian, I don't think Brian and I have spent one Valentines Day together. If we have, I'm sure I'm in for a stern talking to. The last few years due to his traveling for work, we've been apart. We don't need a holiday to tell us we have to say I Love You. We do that every single day. He'll be having dinner with a co-worker friend of his and Steven and I will be taking in a Dallas Stars hockey game.
So to all my blogger friends who are single, married or taken, Happy Valentines Day.
To all my friends whom I've grown so close to over the years, Happy Valentines Day and I love you.
And to my hubby who doesn't need to physically be here with me on this day and already knows how I feel about him, Happy Valentines Day baby and I Love You!
UPDATE: After knowing that we weren't really doing anything for each other on this day and that our "Valentines Day" will be our trip to San Diego and our day at Disneyland, I got this basket of goodies in the mail at work. That little shit.
It seems like only a few months ago, I was raising money for the Dallas AIDS Arms Walk. This year we are given the opportunity to set up our donation site early, after many of us stated that we would like more time to raise funds. If you look to the left, you'll see a link that will take you to my donation site. I will leave the link up there until the beginning of October.
Every year my friends, family and especially my blog family come through for me and help raise money for this important cause. Any amount, whether big or small is greatly appreciated.
Secondly, I would like to to all go over and say Hi to my friend Steven who's started his own blog called Texas Smurf. It's been ages since I could be called a Blog Daddy. I'm so proud. Please go give him a big slap on the ass and welcome to the community. Go ahead, he won't bite.
Thirdly, I'll be heading to San Diego this weekend to spend it with Brian, rather then him flying home. We're going to drive up to Anaheim and spend Saturday at Disneyland. I'll be the 41 year old kid running around the park with Mickey ears on. Don't think I won't do it. Anyone in San Diego wanting to meet for coffee, drinks or whatever with us on Sunday please email me personally. Friday I get in around 7pm and our evening is planned. Saturday we'll be gone all day and Monday I fly back to Dallas. That leaves only Sunday to hopefully meet a few people and enjoy the city.
Her Majesty and Hubby arrived safe and sound.
I do have confirmed reports that they DID have someone other then the two of them in their bed this past weekend.
This was pretty much our state the whole weekend. Crazy drunk and on the go.
We were even able to drag Mama out with us on Friday night. How she hung out with a bunch of drunks and stayed completely sober, is beyond me.
It was great running into our friend Sally (Eric) and Zach. Zach became the person everyone tried to molest the entire night.
One of the highlights of the weekend was getting to take everyone to see the drag show at The Rose Room.
This is what happens when you're a drunk straight girl and you try to spend 20 minutes rubbing your junk all over Brian.
Steven and I love tequila. Can you tell? We made this face at least 8 times this weekend.
Of course, we got to see my favorite drag queen Maya Douglas perform. I'm such a rabid fan of hers. While giving her one of the many tips that night, a group of 3 guys came up and tipped her. One handed her a 100 dollar bill. The 2nd guy did the same thing. The 3rd guy handed her three 100 dollar bills. You could have guessed what I felt like when I handed her my measly 1 dollar bill.
There was even a special performance by a drag queen who is blind. When I went up to give her a dollar, I touched her hand so she knew I was there and placed the bill in her palm. She had her assistant move her to the edge of the platform at this point. Once she took the bill, she grabbed my arm and started walking down the steps. It caught me off guard. I have to say, the performance brought tears to many eyes, including ours. She indicated at the end of her performance for everyone to follow their dreams despite any sort of disabilities.
It was a wonderful weekend. We were able to hang out with so many good friends, drink, eat, shop and even caught an afternoon movie. We're completely exhausted, but it was worth it.
It seems that Brian and I, along with the city of the Dallas are just too fantastic to resist. Brettcajun and his hubby will be boarding a plane, leaving the land of voodoo, zydeco and 24 hour drinking, pissing and vomiting on the streets, for a weekend in the land of big hair, Mexican food, Baptist churches, shopping malls and outlandish bar tabs.
Bless his heart though, the weather this weekend is going to be in the 50's for a high and 20's for the lows and possibly with a chance of occasional rain. He won't be able to wear those little baby gap t-shirts that let him show his muscles to his adoring fans and admirers without covering it up with a jacket. Good thing that most Dallas bars have coat check and he can put his baby gap t-shirt in his back pocket when he shakes his groove thang on the dance floor. I'll bottle up some of that BrettSweat and sell it to the highest blogger bidder.
This will be Her Majesty's 3rd visit. We're looking forward to having he and the hubby stay with us in our posh hotel-like suite. That reminds me. I didn't rush out and buy condoms, lube and mints for their pillows. I wonder if they'll be happy and settle with a couple ritz crackers, cheeze whiz and popsicle?
We're hoping to get a few more of our friends such as Kelly and Criag, Mama Starlett, Steven and Brad to join us this fine weekend of carnal lust and horny pleasures, mixed with wicked spirits and jello shots. Ok, maybe it was just my friend Steven who wants to get drunk and laid this weekend.
Brian surprised me last night by coming home early and hopping into bed at 1am. Thank God I knew he was coming home and so I didn't jump up screaming that there was some sort of rapist in my bed. Then again, how can you rape the willing.
I'll try to update with a few pictures from the weekend, especially if I can snap one of a certain blogger walking around the house naked while primping before going out.
Peace, Love and tequila shots.
It's not often that I come across something that I must share with the rest of you. I was over at Homer's this morning, (well not literally since Homer lives so far away) and he had a link to a video blog called Cute With Chris. You can also check out his daily blog here.
So far I have wasted my entire morning thanks to Homer and have watched all 21 episodes of his Cute With Chris Show. Nonly only is he adorable, but he's funny as hell. Because of him, I will be starting to use the following phrases:
"Kill your feelings!"
"Let's feel guilty together"
And the best one ever, "All your dreams are dead"
This shit is classic!
My poor little pookiebutt. It seems that everytime he gets sick, he's away from home. This time he's in San Diego. The time before that he was in Denver. I'm not sure if this is a blessing or not. On one hand, knowing how much attention my little snickerdoodle needs when he's sick, having him sick in another state could be a good thing. On the other hand, my mothering instincts (just call me Pua or Tunagirl) kick in and I wish he was home so I could take care of him.
I spent quite a long time on the phone yesterday, telling him all that he needs to do, what medications he needs to take, where he needs to get these medications, how much rest to get, fluids to drink and at what point he should suck it up and go to the emergency room just so he can be seen by a doctor and get some medication that's not over the counter.
I guess I just know all these things from experience. I was such a sickly child growing up. My mother told me that I was in the hospital for bronchitus and pneumonia 7 times before the age of 5. Ever since then, I came down with one or the other almost every year until I was about 21 years old. If there was something going around at school I got it. My mother would hear me cough in the middle of the night and the entire family knew the routine. One person grabbed the card table, another grabbed a blanket and another grabbed the vaporizer. The only thing that worked for me was strong antibiotics and a vaporized tent. Back then, the doctors kept us in full supply of drugs. I spent the next couple weeks in bed under that tent. My mother would shower me with little toys, coloring books and pencils and let me watch TV all day long when I wasn't sleeping. She even brought me homework from school.
Currently, I just get the occasional cold. Since I have allergies, it's often hard for me to tell the difference. I think I've grown out of some of that sicklyness from when I was a kid. I'm also a lot smarter and know to bundle up when it's cold and I've stopped running around outside half naked when it's 20 degrees. Not that I've ever done that as an adult, but when I was little I walked in my sleep. My mom would find me sleeping under a rose bush in the front yard or sitting behind the wheel of the car in freezing temperatures. I was never there very long, maybe a minute before my mom knew something was wrong and came looking for me. She always had that extra sense to know something was wrong with her child. Somehow I managed to always get outside while walking in my sleep no matter how many deadbolts they put on the door. I just unlocked all of them. They even moved furniture in front of the door to block me getting out. I simply moved it.
Brian on the other hand doesn't talk or walk in his sleep. He doesn't get quiet when he's not feeling well and want to hide upstairs in the bedroom like I want to do. Oh no. He's quite vocal about it. Coming from someone who was hardly EVER sick in his entire life, he wants to know why he's sick, how he got it, when it will go away and how to make it better immediately. Combine that with the fact that he can't stand sitting at home for more then an hour and wants to be out and about playing with the other kids.
This can be a lethal combination that tests the boundaries of love, but I love him a lot so it's no problem. I just wish he was here so I could take care of him.
On a sidenote: For those who were asking me what my friend Steven looks like, here he is. He's single and loves long walks in the park and snuggling on the couch on a cold winters day. He enjoys reading French novels, a nice glass of red wine and likes to spend his spare time volunteering with needy children.
Ok, so I only know that he's single. I made the last part up.
We started off our weekend by having dinner with my co-workers. Never before has my tiny little company had a group dinner before, other then the occasional potlucks at the office. I was ready for some big, scary announcement to be made. **side note: someones eating tuna at 7:30am in the morning here at work while I sit here and type this. It makes me want to puke. This person should be shot.** Luckily for us, the dinner was a way for my boss to just say how much she loved and appreciated us and our hard work. Whew! What a relief. I was lucky enough to be able to bring Brian with me, since he had just flown in and I didn't want our first night together be me off at some work function without him. They let a few of us bring our spouses.
We headed out to meet my new friend Steven at The Round Up. Steven is someone I've recently met and we've become quite good friends. Very good friends in fact. We have a lot in common. It's been nice to have someone to go out and grab dinner, movie, coffee or to just sit and watch American Idol or a movie. He and Brian hit it off quite well. Well enough to be able to constantly give me shit all night long. Nothing like being ganged up upon by your partner and your new friend. He has my love for tequilla. Ever hear the country song, "Tequila makes her clothes fall off"? Seriously, it's a real song. Well, it didn't make our clothes fall off, but it sure as hell made us run off at the mouth. A friend who loves tequila. This could mean trouble.
Saturday we decided to continue our weekend fun by inviting Steven to Breakfast, followed by some shopping. Six hours later and many shopping bags in our hands, we left the mall exhausted. A friend who loves shopping and Kenneth Cole. This could mean trouble. Later that night we called Brad and Mama and we all went to The Catalina Room for a nice dinner, followed by more drinking at The Round Up again.
We figured we were having so much fun this entire weekend, so we all had Brunch together again the Sunday morning at Mattito's. This buffet has every type of authentic mexican food, all kinds of breakfast food, omelets, soups, fresh fruit, tons of desserts and even a chocolate fountain. Top that off with a bottomless glasses of mimosa's for only fifteen bucks!
The boys headed out right afterwards to let Brian and I have some alone time. We spent the rest of the day relaxing, working on our taxes, napping and watching TV. Poor thing, he's getting that cough and cold shit that's going around and seems to linger on for weeks. He wasn't feeling all that good this morning when he headed back to San Diego. Nothing worse then flying when you're sick.
I just need this entire weekend to rest since Brettcajun and the hubby will be here Friday.
