Little Black Book Of Mormon

I think there are stereotypes about every type of religion. For instance, people think all Catholic Priests are pedophiles...not true...in fact, some of my favorite memories growing up were with Fr. Murphy and the other alter boys having hot dog eating contests after mass...and I know for a fact that everyone who attended the Last Supper had wine and group showered together after...it's in the Bible.

Hebrews and Shebrews...I mean...where do I start? I feel awful for you people because of the amount of stereotypes thrust upon you. I personally love Jewish boys...trust me...there are some very favorable stereotypes from your people they should have put in the Torah ;0)

Southern Baptists...most of time you are all incredibly hot. I'm not sure what they do in the South to grow you like that but trust me, I'm researching the formula. Sadly, you also get the stereotype of being dumb as a box of bricks and aside from a few Vanderbilt and Texas A&M boys I know...it's kind of true. Don't worry...we still love you...we just love you when you're not talking.

Buddhists...while most people think of this guy

 happen to know that the very first love of my life ... Tommy: The Green Power Ranger ....was in fact, a Buddhist. No seriously, was there a more perfectly defined 90's teen than this guy?

And he would have been mine too until that slutbag Kimberly stole him from me...hate that skank.

ANYWHO,

I have never personally dated anyone of the Mormon Faith before. Now, prior to this experience I knew of only a few Mormons...The Osmons, The Romney's and the cast of Orgazmo (seriously one of the best movies I have ever seen and it's piece of pure cinematography mastery)...so when I started dating this one guy and discovering he was Mormon....I was extremely interested in the various stereotypes that surrounded them.

#1) Mormons are NOT polygamists ... I asked him this because I've watched Sister Wives and Big Love and being someone who has NEVER cheated on a significant other...I couldn't imagine sharing my spouse with six other bitches...

#2) Mormons CAN dance... again, rumors I've heard through the years. I'm not saying they lack the ability to dance like most white people, I'm saying I thought their religion prohibited them from dancing...not true

#3) Mormons CAN have condiments. Don't laugh, because this was only recently changed. My date's grandparents were not allowed to have condiments on their foods but could have a polygamist relationship?!?

"No ketchup for me thanks, but bring me my 8 wives!" .... that is some fucking family cookout

#4) Mormons CANNOT drink ... this rule sucks. He was very open about the fact that he was a Mormon but made me figure out myself that he could not drink. I think he thought I wasn't going to ask but here's the thing...I'm Irish...we drink...it's just that simple. So if I go out with you on more than one date and you do not order a drink I will ask you why you are not drinking. I'd love to sit here and say I can see myself dating someone who doesn't drink...but I can't. Now, I don't want you to be a raging alcoholic (hey EX) but I need to able to enjoy my time with you and alcohol.

So I thought I knew everything there was to know about my very nice, extremely sexy and sadly sober boyfriend of 3 weeks until one night when we were out at a restaurant. Dating a Mormon is great because it's like having a built in DD so while he didn't drink I got to utilize the 2 FOR 1 Happy Hour Specials all to myself at various drinking establishments so needless to say he was driving me this particular night.

We are enjoying ourselves and talking when all of a sudden he turns pale white...

Me:
Oh shit, please don't tell me you are choking or allergic to something?! 
Are you OK?

Ezekiel:
I need you to get up and go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW

Me:
Oh my god, is there food on my face?! Is my nose bleeding? 
What is the matter?!

Ezekiel:
Please!

So I get up and walk towards the bathroom and catching a glimpse of myself in a mirror I quickly realize I look impeccable and I was sent away from the table for a different reason...I turn around and see MY DATE TALKING TO ANOTHER MAN!!  Look, if you don't want to be exclusive that is one thing but I will NOT be sent away like someone to be hidden...if you're dating someone else than just me than they should know you are dating someone else than just them...I am HEATED

The gentleman leaves and I return to the table.

Me:
Um, who was that?!

Ezekiel:
Don't worry about it

Me:
No, I think I will worry about it...is it another date?

Ezekiel:
No, I promise...it's complicated

Me:
I'm a smart boy

Ezekiel:
It's my father. He doesn't know I'm gay

Me:
Oh...I'm sorry. I guess I take for granted the great relationship I have with my dad and I don't realize that some people...especially in your faith...have issues with their sexuality. I'm sorry if I got angry with you.

Ezekiel:
It's ok. I'm kind of upset. If you don't mind, can we please go?

Me:
Ugh, I am so insensitive sometimes. 
Of course.

As we are leaving the gentlemen spots us again and approaches us. I try to dart away but it's no use...totally OK...I can be a friend, a co-worker, a variety of possibilities. He tenses up.

Man:
Ezekiel, you didn't even come over and say hi to Meredith! You know how much your wife hates when you ignore her stepmother.

HOMO SAY WHAT NOW? WIFE?

Me:
WIFE?!

Ezekiel:
I can explain in the car

Me:
You can esplain right here Lucy...WIFE?

Ezekiel:
You don't understand

Me:
You have a WIFE, You are MARRIED...to a WOMAN...WOMAN....WIFE.....I think I get it!?

Ezekiel:
She doesn't know I'm gay

Me:
YOU'RE A GYMNAST!

Ezekiel:
It's not like that

Me:
YOU WERE IN CIRQUE DE SOLEI...AS A GYMNAST!

Ezekiel:
Please don't make a scene!

Me:
Oh, you think this is a scene?! No honey, the little show you put on at home with your "wife" is a scene...as a matter of fact it's a fucking 3 ACT PLAY! You walk around dressed like Versace after wearing spandex all day....as a gymnast...you think you have her fooled?! Who is this bitch HELLEN KELLER!? No no no, this is NOT OK.

Ezekiel:
I'm leaving

Me:
Good! Go! I don't need you and your hidden life. I am no body's #2 and certainly no body's hidden skeleton in the closet! GO!

Waitress:
Ummm sir, here is the bill for your meal. Would you like me to retrieve the car from the valet?

Me:
No, I came here with...FUCK!

So after over drafting my bank account paying for dinner and a very expensive cab ride home, I came to realization that it doesn't matter what race, religion, or creed you might be....in the end...some men are just assholes.

Unholy Matrimony

WARNING: I HAVE BEEN IN THE CAR FOR 39 HOURS…THIS BLOG IS LONG.

Unholy Matrimoany –

Calm down! This blog isn’t calling the wedding I am currently road tripping to Unholy…that wouldn’t be right. Quite the contrary, despite being in the car with my sister for the past 96 hours, crossing 4 time zones and nearly running away to join a traveling Mariachi band…the Doherty Tour 2013 (D-Tour2013) has been quite successful…but since things are a little all over the place I will wait for the right time to blog about the future. Let’s talk about the present.

I am so excited for my friend Vanna to marry the love of her life Rob this Saturday in Marco Island Florida. My sister and I will be present with 2 of my other great friends and despite it being an absolute SAUNA in Florida right now, I am looking forward to experimenting with my look. (It’s far too muggy to wear make-up so I’m going to try this whole “fresh faced” “natural” look these bitches on Pinterest keep yapping about) I have a feeling I’m going to look like this:

…we can’t all be like my sister and have our makeup permanently tattooed to our body…so congrats to Vanna but this blog isn’t about that wedding…

If you have not yet invited me to your wedding you are seriously missing out! Have you ever seen me in a suit? I am a friggin amazing looking PLUS SUZE  model.

 I make the best date because 1) I look great dressed up and will match your dress 2) I have incomparable dance moves 

3) Zero Food Allergies and most importantly…everyone loves me…oh and I’m humble.

For a small fee you can do yourself an even bigger favor and put me IN your wedding!! You think I look good in a suit? Try seeing me in a tux…ummm #pantydropper

Well one of my friends must have known all these things to be true because I received a very random invite to a wedding at a Newport Mansion at the end of August…fantastic!! Nothing I love more than rich people dishing out free shrimp and champagne so I agree to go…BIG MISTAKE

She tells me the wedding is for a good friend of hers that she used to date “way back in the day” but that “she’s so happy he found someone great” and that she’d tell me all about it on the way down.

I get in the car…clearly looking daper and she looks quite lovely herself. We start down to Rhode Island and being the dashing date I offer to read the directions to the wedding to her.

Me:

Where’s the invitation? I will read off the directions

Casandra:

Oh, I don’t have it.

Me:

Oh, ok…do you have the address? I’ll put it in my phone.

Casandra:

Well…I sort of don’t know where it is…only that it’s in Newport.

Me:

What do you mean? You lost the invitation?

Casandra:

More like…I never got one

Me:

I’m sorry what?

Casandra:

Well…yes I used to date him but I’m sort still in love with him…andiknowifheseesmehewillfallbackinlovewithmetoo

Me:

PULL THE FUCK OVER!

Casandra:

No, you have to come with me! I can’t just show up and crash his wedding by myself?! What will people think?

Me:

That you weren’t crazy enough to get an accomplice!

Casandra:

No, it will be fine!! I know plenty of people at the wedding and you can just party while I talk to him.

Me:

I will wait in the car

Casandra:

I can’t go to the wedding by myself I will get stared at!

Me:

I can’t go to prison I will get raped! 

This goes on for another hour and before I know it we are cruising around Newport looking for white limos…I promise I had very little choice in the matter.

We are downtown casing churches and find a bunch of people in front of St. Anthony’s … the patron Saint of lost things... Imma go in and pray this bitch finds her damn mind she lost.

Cassandra:

OK, go in and save us a seat….i’ll park and sneak in after the bride enters.

Me:

I’m running away!

Casandra:

Ok, I will make you a deal. Let me watch him get married and that will be it. I’ll know he’s happy with her and we can go home.

Me:

Promise?

Casandra:

Promise!

So I walk into the front of the church when of course I’m approached by some old fucker in a suit…

Old Fucker:

Hello Sir, are you with the Murphy’s? or the Sullivans?

Me:

Shit! I don’t know his last name!

Ummm…the groom

Old Fucker:

Oh excellent! I’m his father! How do you know Michael?

Me:

Of course you are!

Oh we have a mutual friend…from college

Father of the Groom:

Oh, Michael didn’t go to college??

Me:

Oh, no…I mean our mutual friend…she ummm…went to college. Well, I should go inside and get a seat! You look great by the way! Have you lost weight? Bye!

As I’m sitting in the Church…a house of God…I see a bunch of men in uniform sitting on the groom’s side…HOT DAMN!! So I read the pamphlet and saw he was in the Air Force…things were looking up!! Where the hell is crazy pants?!

Man #2:

James Campbell, and this is my wife Dolores and you are?

Me:

Sean…ummm….Combs?

(shit! Can’t use my own name next time)

Man#2:

Well Sean, how do you know Michael?

Me:

WHY DOES EVERYONE GIVE A SHIT!? I AM HERE ARENT I?

The Air Force

Man #2:

Really? I was his operating Commander during basic…what division were you in?

Me:

Ummm I was in the 4^th D?A?D?T? Division Well, I should probably go escort my date in…excuse me…by the way you look amazing! Did you lose weight? Dolores, always a pleasure.

Fantastic, lied through my teeth in church while having impure thoughts about the groom and his basic training buddies…

I find Casandra…

Me:

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!? I FEEL LIKE OWEN WILSON WITH A CUTER NOSE!

Casandra:

I can’t do it!

Me:

EXCELLLENT! I’ll go get the car

Casandra:

No, I mean I can’t let him go through with it.

Me:

Oh yes you can bitch, these men are in the Air Force and they have guns!!

Casandra:

No, I know he’s probably in the Sacristy (for my Jew/Atheist friends…that’s like the side stage of the Church) … I am going to find him.

What do I do?! Knock her out? I’ve already committed a few sins in a church today already…what’s one more? Do I blow her cover and run in before her and warn the groom? God must have saw my plight because out the clear blue…

Random Girl:

Casandra?!

Casandra:

Victoria!!! Hi!

Victoria…looking confused…duh:

What umm..what are you doing here?

Casandra:

Oh, I came with Kevin … he’s parking the car

Victoria:

Oh, I didn’t think Kevin was bringing a date…and I didn’t expect it to be you hahaha.

Casandra:

Why? Oh my goodness no! I am so happy for Michael! I’ll see you inside!

Victoria:

Yeaaaa? See you inside?

Casandra to me:

Ok, I can’t be seen with you! I’m not supposed to be here with you

Me:

I AM NOT SUPPOSED BE HERE…AT ALL! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!?

Casandra:

Just blend in…you’re a chameleon! I’ll see you at the reception! I’m going to head there now and find Kevin before Victoria does…she’s the bride’s sister and I'm pretty she hates me.

Me:

Hmmm, wonder why?

Sooooo to recap: I am now stuck in the Church…in Rhode Island…for a wedding of two people I do not know…with a date who abandoned me…and my phone is in her car…I go sit in the bride’s section (for a better view of the Air Force Men) and pray.

The ceremony was wonderful. She was in a lovely beaded mermaid style Vera Wang with a sweetheart neckline and a gorgeous Swarovski crystal cathedral veil. He was quite dashing in his Air Force Dress Blues…it was a fairytale wedding…and I had no fucking idea what I was doing there.

Since this was a classy affair…I was hoping there was going to be some sort of ceremony to reception transportation…no dice. Luckily, I spent years eaves dropping on my sister’s phone calls with her friends in middle school so my hearing was like a hawk…I listened to the people in the pew behind me talk about Sarah (the bride) and how they are so happy Michael found a smart woman who went to Brown and was studying to be a psychologist…ok, I have enough info…time to act!

I head back over to the groom’s section and approach some strangers..

Me:

Excuse me…are you heading to the reception?

Strangers:

Um yes, why?

Me:

I am one of Sara’s friends from Brown and I was supposed to go to the reception with some college friends but they had an emergency and had to leave…would possibly be able to give me a lift?  

Strangers:

Of course!! I am Nathaniel and this is my wife Natalie

Me:

God I love WASPS and their phonetically fabulous names

Natalie:

And you are??

Me:

Preston…

Preseton what? Quick Sean Think!  Doherty doesn’t sound like money…what’s a good financial firm? Something Sachs??

Preston Braxton-Hicks…it’s a pleasure.

We drive to the reception and I gotta tell you…If Michael wasn’t marrying Sarah for her money…he should have been…girlfriend had bank! The reception was massive!! A mansion looking over the cliffs, tents all over the place, portable bathrooms that had hardwood floors and an attendant and an whole fountain made of shrimp…I should see if her parents are adopting…now where is crazy pants?!

Natalie:

Well, we should go find what table we are at…it’s been a pleasure meeting you Preseton!

Nathaniel:

If you do end up joining the country club let me know, we will have a foursome!

Me:

Absolutely Nate!

I had no intentions of joining their country club until I heard the word foursome…but anywho

I have my champagne and plate of shrimp as I’m looking for Cassandra…and I notice everyone taking their seats! FUUUUUCCCCKKK…I can’t find Casandra and I doubt I have a name card…time to play detective again…I approach of group of girls and amp up the gay to SUPERQUEEN.

Me:

Haaaaaay ladies! Oh. My. God. You all look sthooooo amazing!

Girls (instantly enamored with a gay):

Awww thanks!! You are so cute!! How do you know Sarah?

Me:

Oh, my sister is like BFF with Victoria they were Delta’s … Sarah invited me because she claimed to have this really cute guy to set me up with but apparently he was a no show...sad panda. 

Girl:

Oh my god, it was probably Jeff!! We always thought he was gay but yea he couldn’t make it last minute.

Me:

Yea it was Jeff!! Jeff…Gordon?

Girl:

Ah no, Jeff Winsloski

Me:

Omg yes! Jeff W…ugh! So mad I can’t meet him!! After all …choosey fags chose Jeff! (girls erupt in laughter) Well I gotta skidaddle…you all look fabulous by the way! Don't lose a pound! 

Ok, Jeff Winsolski is about to take his seat at the wedding!

I sit at my table and scan the room…no sign of Cassandra…whatever…I love fresh rolls.

There are only a few people at the table and we make small talk…they ask me how I know Jeff and I tell them that we’re engaged and he is just parking the car…

Woman:

Oh my god, did you know who I heard was here? Cassandra Richards! Can you believe it?

Woman 2:

I know! I heard she found out about the wedding on facebook and drove down here this morning! And I heard she’s here with a FAKE DATE! How pathetic is that?! Can you imagine Preston? 

Me:

Oh! Me! Preseton...Well, hopefully he is cute that’s all I can say ::snaps:: excuse me …

If I find Victoria she’ll know where Kevin is so I can find Cassandra.

Me:

Hi Victoria…you look really nice! Have you seen Kevin by any chance?

Victoria:

Um No...Thanks.... Sorry, Who are you?

Me:

I’m a friend of Michaels from back home…he told me to find Kevin…something about a girl named Cassandra??

Victoria:

Cassandra? What about her? What does she want?

Me:

Oh….I don’t know…not even sure who she is…just gotta find Kevin...ha

Victoria:

I’ll come with you…I think he’s in the main house…I swear if that bitch does anything to mess with my sister’s day I’ll hurt her!

Me:

Oh…yea…I don’t know...have you lost weight?

So now I’m running around a beautiful mansion in Newport with a pissed off Bridesmaid looking for my date…who I am not supposed to know and looking for a Groomsman who I don’t know…who I am supposed to know.

Victoria:

We should split up. We can cover more ground that way!

Me:

What is this Scooby-Doo?!

Great idea! I’ll let you know if I find Kevin or this “Casandra” person

I FINALLY find Cassandra and Kevin in one of the libraries and quickly shut the door!

Cassandra:

Sean! You’re not supposed to be here! I am talking to Kevin

Me:

Yea and by the look on his face he’s about as happy to see you as the groom will be.

Kevin:

You know her? Aren’t you the guy from the bar?

Me:

Yes and if I knew you were Kevin I wouldn’t have hit on you…I’m sorry. But we have a big problem here…Victoria is looking for the both of you and if she finds you she is going to have a bitch fit and have your arrested! We need to leave.

Cassandra:

I’m not leaving until I talk to Michael!!

Kevin:

Dude, I can’t let her do that

Me:

Yea, neither can I...Dude. Should we???

I give him a look…the look was meant to say (Let’s knock her out) but judging by his response it might have came out as (Let’s make out) so clearly neither was going to happen…which was fine because…IN WALKS MICHAEL (the groom). 

Michael:

Oh, sorry … Kevin? Cassandra!?! What are you doing here?!

FUCK MY LIFE!

Cassandra:

Michael, I had to see you! You can’t marry her!!

Michael:

Um, I kind of already did!

Cassandra:

No!

She’s not the right woman for you! I am!

 Now if this was a Sandra Bullock movie, this would be the point of the story where the music would slow down, the two would lock eyes and instantly he would realize that he made the biggest mistake of his entire life and the woman in front of him was the ONLY woman in his life

….but this was real fucking life.

Michael:

What?! Are you crazy? We broke up 4 years ago!

Cassandra:

We are meant for each other!

Michael:

We only dated for 3 months!!

Wow, this bitch is crazier than I thought!

Michael:

I think you need to go! Kevin, why don’t you take your date and go get help.

Kevin:

Dude, he’s not my date!

Me:

Kevin! How could you? This supposed to be a special day for us too!

Michael:

Kevin, it’s cool. We all knew you were gay.

Kevin:

But I’m not –

Me:

-going to tell anyone today…It’s Sarah’ day! Now let’s go get help. Ps- Michael, she keeps saying something about some guy named Sean…not sure what who he is … oh Victoria thank god!! Cassandra’s in there…Kevin and I were just going to get security but since you probably got that handled why don’t I buy that drink I promised you?

Kevin:

I have no idea what’s going on right now but I need a drink.

So my friend got arrested for trespassing and I bailed her out the next morning and drove her sobbing, crying, and messed up ass back to Massachusetts. I would have been there sooner but they were serving filet and lobster…plus Kevin ended up taking me up on my drink offer…three times that night ;0) 

I Thought It Got Better?

In elementary school, I was always the kid that got picked on at the monkey bars and when I would go home and cry my mom used to tell me...don't worry it gets better.

In middle school, I used to have to borrow an extra uniform from the nurse because mine would get bloody from getting beat up and I didn't want my parents to know and the nurse used to tell me...don't worry it gets better.

In high school, my sister would fight my battles and defend me against kids who wouldn't touch the same paper I was touching because they were afraid they would "catch the gay" and when we were driving home from school she would tell me...don't worry it gets better.

In college I moved to London and fought with myself to come out and become the person I was destined to be. During those hard times of finding my voice and seeing my potential my friend Christine would tell me...don't worry it gets better.

Then, I became Glitter, an indestructible ray of light that shined and danced and brought smiles wherever I would go. I wore funny outfits and strange make-up but my positivity was real and my message to those who were dealing with bullying and adversity was so simple: Don't Worry...It Gets Better.

But now I'm here, my back to the wall, the glitter washed away with tears and the bullies don't wear uniforms anymore ... they now wear suits. They don't have backpacks, they have business cards. They aren't stopping you from playing kickball...they're stopping you from living. You're in the business where "The Show Must Go On" but at what cost? When do you stop fearing you won't achieve fame and start fearing you won't achieve tomorrow? There are no teachers, no moms or sisters or anyone to tell you it gets better...so why should I think it to be true? Am I just repeating what I have been told because I don't want kids to grow up in fear? I'll be honest...I've never been more scared than I am right now. 

My Epi-Date From Hell

As I sit here with my wine looking out of my window, I can't help but think of how great writers find their inspiration to write about the important things...What is the meaning of life? How do I define success? and then I remember...it's an online blog and it's much more entertaining to write about shitty men....don't believe me? I got 10 seasons and 2 movies that are on my side.  

Part of me thinks I should retire from dating all together. I mean, I'm 26...I'm no spring chicken. I have had my share of really amazing dates and some awful awful dates but recently (and this could be because I live in a vortex or because I could actually be losing my game...but for some reason the scales of dating have leaned in the favor of terrible dates. I have had A LOT of bad dates and could start a new blog called Glitter: Queen of the bad dates but that doesn't have the same spicy flavor as my current title. Needless to say, I've never had a date almost die on me until recently. 

Things in Arizona are sort of awful in comparison to the rest of the world. By that I mean when someone says they are going to take you to the BEST _______  you ever experienced...hold onto your fucking hats...because it's probably going to suck. 

Date 1:

Do you like Italian food? 

Me:

Yes

Date 1:

Ok, we have to go to this place, BEST ITALIAN FOOD YOU'VE EVER HAD! 

Me: 

I've been to Italy and was raised by Italian women so I really doubt it but yea let's go! 

Result: It's an Olive Garden decorated like a Chili's #FAIL

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Date 2:

I want to take you somewhere exotic.

Me:

Awesome, like Tahiti? I'm already packed! 

Date 2:

Better! Do you like Sushi? I know the BEST SUSHI PLACE EVER!

Me:

Ummm, hate to break it to you but there kind of isn't any water near here? But yea, let's give it a try!

Result: Cream cheese and rice rolls...and the place was decorated like Chili's. #FAIL

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Date 3:

Do you like Mexican Food?

Me:

Now you're talking! I can see Mexico from my house! 

I do! 

Date 3:

Ok awesome! I'm going to take you to the BEST MEXICAN FOOD EVER!! 

Result: We went to Chili's...no really. Fucking. Chili's. #FUCKINGCHILIS

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And it's not just the food that's the issue, it's the company. Finding a funny, charming, respectable, working, drug free, over 21, under 55, English is your native language, single, gay, male in Southern Arizona is like looking for the Tooth Fairy...and I'd settle for any type of fairy at this point! 

Now, I know what your thinking...you can't be the best date ever but the reality is I AM!!! I am the best first date ever because all you get is the goodness and none of the crazy. My mama didn't raise no fool. I hide my flaws until after the wedding!

So after talking to this guy for what seemed like forever we finally make plans to go out and guess what I hear:

I want to take you somewhere really special...do you mind being surprised? 

He picks me up and we're driving and he asks me if I'm ready for the best dining experience of my life?

I guess dinner with the Clinton's and Tony Blair does deserve a one-up...and so I open my eyes.

MOTHERFUCKER TOOK ME TO THE MELTING POT! 

                                      

"Experiential Dining" my ass...you have to cook your own food!! Who the fuck wants to spend a now extended date cooking their own food?! And you're not even cooking it...for those of you that haven't been to the Melting Pot...you boil shit in soup. In fact, I think I'm going to submit that as their new slogan.

THE MELTING POT: COME BOIL SHIT IN SOUP! 

 We get seated and the waiter goes through the standard shpeel about how to "dine" at the Melting Pot. Now, here's the thing. I don't dislike the Melting Pot if you're going for apps and wine to dip things in cheese or for dessert to dip things in chocolate...and drink wine...but if the Melting Pot is YOUR FAVORITE RESTAURANT EVER...email me and no matter where in the world you live...I'll send you 5 places that are better.

Date and I are exchanging pleasantries and I'm actually not having a bad time!! He's really nice (aside from his horrible laugh...my fault...I'm hilarious) and as I look up from my plate/texting my sister under the table to tell her about his horrible laugh...I see this: 

OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOUR FACE!?

Date looks worried...although now I can't really see his eyes anymore and his laughing has turned to wheezing...awesome...he's allergic to something shitty we have just boiled in soup....I ask for help.

Date:

In my car...get my epi-pen! 

Me:

Your epi-pen?! If you're allergic enough to something that you need an epi-pen shouldn't you carry it with you!?

Date:

Shut up and go! 

So I run back out to his car search is car ....napkins in the glove compartment....cd's in the side doors....condoms in the console...I doubt the swelling is going to be that impressive...and an epi-pen. 

I run back inside and Date has created quite the scene. 1) He's surrounded by the entire wait staff 2) He's the size of a small hippo. 

I get the eli-pen ready...

Waitress:

What are doing?!

Me:

Stabbing him with his epi pen!! 

Waitress:

Not in the neck!! You have to stab his leg! 

Me:

The lighting in here is far too dim!          

and BOOM! stabbed date in his leg...he didn't magically deflate like I was expecting. Instead his eyes just started fluttering and his breathing sped up...awesome

The manager comes over and asks us if everything was OK...we reply yes and he brings us the check. I ask date if he's OK and he looks pissed! 

Date:

I can't believe they are going to charge us for the meal when it nearly killed me.

Me:

You have an allergy and you didn't tell anyone, it's not really their fault! 

Date:

Whatever, you know it's unlawful to use an epi-pen on someone and I could technically sue you and the restaurant...but I probably won't. 

1) Next time I get the chance to stab you, I'm going for the neck

2) I used the napkins from the glove compartment to handle the pen...NO PRINTS BITCH!  

No Bullshit Here

This blog follows the past 96 hours I spent with the best friend anyone could have.
(Up there with Kerri and JJ - what up Josephs!!)

I first met Scotty Andrew Lee Bruce in London during the fall of 2006.  I was a newly outed homo from the big city of Boston and he was a charismatic country bumpkin from Northern Michigan...needless to say we had very little in common when we first met.  I guess it's mostly my fault. When you start working in radio at a young age you get very used to lugery and opalence when it comes to certain things. Unless you had an open bar, an all access pass, or you were one of the Pussycat Dolls, I wasn't interested. So when I first heard this mid westerner talking to my other roommates on the street it was customary for me to go up to him and exclaim "Ya accenent sounds wicked retahded"...I was a typical Boston douchebag.

We realized very quickly though that we both shared a similar passion...being the life of the mutha-fuckin par-tay!! For some reason, when we ended up hanging out together, we could accomplish some miraculous things. For instance, some would say that the Bachelorette should get all the free drinks during her party correct? Well Scotty and I could go up to a bachelorette party and convince them to buy us drinks all night in exchange for dancing for with all of the brides fat friends...genius!

Scotty taught me a lot about life. How to enjoy the simpler things and how you don't have to have a VIP pass to have a good time. Luckily, I got also teach Scotty that having a VIP pass or going to an open bar party is a good time!! My most memorable accomplishment came in the fall of 2008. I call this, the Scotty Bruce Experiment. Keep in mind Scotty never owned dress shoes or a tie in his life up until this point...he was 22.

 

                                                                

                                                                                          BEFORE



AFTER

But this blog isn't about dressing up like Batman and Robin and running around the United Kingdom, this isn't about the time I made Scotty dress up in a giant pizza costume and he got heatstroke or the time I flew to Michigan and showed up to the middle of nowhere in a stretch limo full of Hypnotic when I was 20....this blog is about BULL RIDING.

Scotty calls me about a month ago

Scotty:
Dude, I found a place to go bull riding are you in?

Me:
Ummm I guess so?

Scotty:
No, it's going to be awesome. It's only $20!

Me:
That sounds awfully cheap...does it come with anything?? Like the bull or a helmet?

Scotty:
I guess a helmet would be smart

Me:
Yes it would

Scotty:
Ok, let me double check

:::20 minutes later:::

Scotty:
Ok, you can rent gear but it's extra

Me:
See, this is how they get you! Ok, sign me up!

So last Friday I pick up Scotty in Phoenix and we drive up Bloody Basin Road to Cave Creek Arizona...aka...the styx.

We arrive at the Buffalo Chip Saloon and just like in the brochure...it's a bar with a bull pen in the back.

Now, up until this point, there was still a teeny tiny part of my mind that thought we might be riding mechanical bulls. I mean, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility!! I could show off my proess and cowboy skills all with the safety and comfort of an inflatable cushion under me.

But then we went and signed the waiver...just your standard "MAY RESULT IN DEATH" sign on the dotted line waiver from a large woman named Lacey. Lacey was a Melissa McCarthy look alike in the face except she had long gray hair. (small note about me, I am horrified by women who have long gray hair). Signed, sealed, and delivered I was ready to get my bull riding on!!

8pm rolls around and Scotty and I enter the ring. They open the rodeo with a prayer (because we are in South) the National Anthem (because we are at a sporting event) and we get to watch Lacey ride around the ring on a horse (because apparently we were being punished).

Then they introduce Gary. Gary was at the rodeo last week and got caught underneath the bull. He was maimed and sent to the hospital where they had to open up his skull to let his brain swelling go down...but he was back and ready for action tonight!!At this point, I was seriously considering backing out...then Scotty came over fresh off of his bull ride and locked me into my helmet.




Ima scurred mama

 Me:
How was it?

Scotty:
Dude...you can't....I can't...you just...

Me:
You're not making any sense

They called my name and I saw Playboy.

Playboy

Playboy was 2300lbs of bull that was ready for me mount. Scotty and I watched some YouTube videos on "how to ride a bull" and we asked some of the locals how they did it but NOTHING prepares you for actually sitting on the back of a bull...because nothing makes sense.

Once you're one...people just start SCREAMING at you!! And NONE of the words makes sense!!

"YOU ALL SET? YOU BUTTERFLIED"
"YOU SCQUATCHED IN? YOU READY TO GAUNTLET?"
"GIVE HIM A 10 KEY ROUND IN"
"READY?"
"READY?"
"READY!"

The next thing you hear is the sound of the giant gate openings and the beast underneath has one objective...get you the fuck off of his back!!
The maximum amount of time a bull rider is on a bull for is 8 seconds...some of you might be thinking...I can do anything for 8 seconds!...you...are full of fucking shit.

And I'm off!

The scariest part about bull riding is...well everything about it but my biggest fear was how am I going fall off? Scotty went forward and over the horns but that was not my plan...no way was baby boy was not going out like Gary the walking vegetable...no sir.

Instead after what felt like 3 hours (3 seconds) Playboy had enough of me and launched me up and off into the dirt below.

Now, there is falling on dirt and then there is getting launched onto dirt. Getting launched onto dirt means that dirt goes into places on your body that you have forgotten you even had. There is dirt...EVERYWHERE. And its up there....not pretty.

I got back to Scotty and thought it was the best thing I have ever done. I have been bungee jumping, cliff jumping, sky diving and I've danced with fat chicks at a bachelorette party...I know danger but this was nothing like I've ever done.

Scotty rides twice more and I have one more ride...the bull was named Blue.

Blue...was a bitch. He started bucking when I was in the pen...I asked them why the bulls were so mad

"Well they got this here rope your holding tied around their balls, soon as you fall off, the rope falls off"

This was some Amistad shit right here...I almost felt bad for the bulls. I was in a bad relationship so I know what it's like to be held by the balls so I apologized to Blue to hoping he'd forgive me and let me impress my friends with an 8 second ride...NO FUCKING DICE.

Blue kicked the shit out of me...literally. Granted, I lasted longer than my first ride which was my goal...once Blue had me down...he wasn't done with me.


That is my leg with my boot underneath Blue

As I was leaving the pen with no wind in me and seeing stars some redneck motherfucker tried to come up to me and tell what I did wrong. Scotty descibes my reaction as "sassy". As he approached me...I just shot him a look and put my finger in his face. 

He nagging me despite my warning! Imagine you just fell off of a bull, got trampled, and some wannabe cowboy is going to come over and reprimand you?! OH. HELL.NO.

No more tough cowboy exterior...no more playing by the rules and pretending I gave a fuck about bull riding and impressing the ladies...I.QUEENED.OUT on this bitch and luckily Scotty filmed it...it pretty much looked like this: (I havent figured out how to load video on my blog yet)

I clearly scared him away by unleashing my inner Diva and we ended the night the only way we knew how...by line dancing with random women to a country band while drinking Dos Equis XX until we couldnt feel our pain anymore which by my calculations should be by 2018.

So here is to our next adventure...not sure what it will be but I have a feeling I might need to brush up on my swimming.