An Open Letter To My 16 Year Old Self

I wanted to take a blog and write myself a letter. So often, we are consumed with the present that we forget how long and short our lives are. In the blink of an eye, a day, a year..a decade can pass and if you don't take the time to appricate what you had you will never appriciate what you have.

November 23, 2002

Dear Sean,

Congratulations!! Today is your Sweet 16 birthday!! How are you feeling? I bet you're amped to finally get your permit and start crusing around in any one of the 3 Buicks your family has.  Let's talk about your life right now huh? Just in case you're stressing about the concrete jungle (trademark that!!) that is highschool.

You're a junior at Matignon High School or as the Boston Herald just dubbed it "Oxy Contin" High. You aren't a straight A student but you don't have to be. You love your creative writing class but you struggle severely with Chemistry but it's not your fault...your teacher does not speak English and this being a post 9/11 world everyone thinks that because she's from Pakistan she is going to blow up the school.  Speaking of, your President George W Bush just signed the Homeland Security Act and started the Department of Homeland Security. This is supposed to make air travel safer and more efficient...it wont. Just do yourself a favor and always wear clean socks when you travel.

You live in the shadow of your 17 year old sister who is pretty much queen of the school...everyone's her friend but she isnt popular because she's easy...she's popular because she is a giant bitch but don't worry, after 2004 a movie called Mean Girls is going to come out and being a bitch is going to become super trendy...but she's still going to be a bitch.  Tell her to stop robbing the cradle and dating freshman and sophomores..it's really uncomfortable for you especially since one of them is like an 18 year old Freshman. Beep her on her Nextel and tell her that when you get a chance...you're so cool with your color screen...and these phones can even text...but why would you text when you can just call someone right? You think its just a fad...you're a moron.




It aint trickin if ya got it

Sooooo you're bisexual huh? Loving your drama club and not all that interested in girls even tho they are all your friends...you would probably have sex with a girl if she wanted...oh yea...you'd hit that....but it'd have to be really special...candles, rose pedals...oh and she...would be a dude. CUT THE SHIT nobody believes you!! The only person who did a worse job being the closet was Anne Frank. I mean, your old girlfriend now goes to your school and is dating every brown guy she can get her hands on...get off that bandwagon and get on the man wagon it's not a big deal...nobody is going to care. Still convinced you're "bi" huh? But you happen to wander into that M4M chat on AIM an awful lot and that a/s/l just seems to fly right off your fingers. Get over it homo and go back to enjoying Milkshake.

You had a really deep and meaningful relationship with your girlfriend tho...let's take a second and remeber the magic from the early years and if this isnt super straight I dont know what is:

Sadly, you are never ever ever getting back together (write that down)

Speaking of music...what is on your Napster Mix Cd these days?

You just found out that Beyonce is taking a "break" from Destiny's Child!! Calm down....they are not broken up...they actually are taking a break...and actually, her CD will be really good....Kelly is going to come out with this manic drepressive song about school shootings and do a duet with Nelly...not too shabby...Michelle is going fly off the handle and be broke until they reuinte in a few years...you'll be fine.

You think it's weird that Britney just made out with Madonna at the VMA's well go to the store, buy a hat, and HOLD THE FUCK onto it because she just boarded the express train to Crazytown...she has peaked and I'm really sorry. Take a good long look at Xtina too by the way...pretty hot huh? Well she's taking the oneway express train to Pepperidge Farm...and Madonna will be around forever because well....she's bathes in phamaldehide.

As for Dream, 3LW and Diddy's "Da Band"....not so much.

This guy right here:

His name is Pitbull, right now he's just on a few random Daddy Yankee songs but in 2012 he is going to on EVERY SONG ON THE RADIO!! Get used to it.

You just found out Paris Hilton made a sex tape!?!! Omg you're thinking her career is so over...nobody can be famous after a sex tape....SEAN...if you can swing it after you turn 18...MAKE A SEX TAPE! I don't care who it's with but MAKE ONE...and shop it around...you'll be glad you did!

Let's talk about your face shall we? You know that feeling you have every morning that you want to find a cat and skin it alive just to watch it cry...that's your ACUTANE....cut the shit out. You cannot keep using tinted moisturizer because it leaves your skin too dry and like a cracking porcelain doll..plus no bisexual guy wears tinted moisturizer nancy.  

Now you're probably getting frustrated because when you exchange pictures with a guy on AIM or XY.COM  he never seems interested in you well let me tell you why...YOU LOOK LIKE A SEX OFFENDER. A goatee? at 16? You have too round of a face for that. Plus you're Irish so it's growing in RED. Speaking of red hair...STOP TRYING HIGHLIGHTS they do not work with your round face and chubby cheeks make you look like a "blonde" Korean. Earth toned Old Navy turtle neck sweaters?? Yes, I realize you watched NSYNC's This I Promise You video and you think its a good look...its not. Same thing with the Union Bay Cargo Kahkis...I realize you don't like jeans but PLEASE go get some and for FUCKS SAKE please stop wearing LUGZ. I realize you are too poor to afford Sketchers because you're too busy spending your Star Market paycheck trying the new "stand up" tanning beds from that new Hollywood Tans and buying color contacts because you think your Naomi Campbell but save your pennies. Don't forget to take off all five gold rings you're wearing to school everyday after you bathe yourself in Nautica. To top it off you wear FULL LENGTH leather coats!! Yes, they were very popular in London and yes, they are very expensive but you are 16 years old. You have about as much sex appeal as a school bus fire and you look like a lesbian. A lesbian sex offender.



NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT



Yea....you're not them either

Family life at home is awful. You went from awesome to orphan in a matter of months and while your mom is in rehab and your dad is in Afghanistan you and your sister worry about what's going to happen to the two of you. Stay close to her, you will need each other more than you ever know. Yes, she is a speed demon in her '94 Buick LeSabre but those nights you have just cruising around Woburn blasting mix cd's and are going to be some of the most amazing nights of your life. Don't be in too much of a rush to grow up...you're going to do that anyways...and you're going to go bald because you abused your hair dumb ass.

I don't want to get your hopes up but I wanted to let you in on some of your dreams and goals and let you know which one of those you'll be able to check off:

You're NOT going to be on the next/any season of Degrassi
You're NOT going to get cast in the next made for TV movie starring the Olsen Twins
You're NOT going to date Kristin Kreuk from Smallville or Danny from Real World New Orleans
You're NOT going to move to NYC after high school and "try and make it" It will never be 3 bucks 2 bags and 1 you.
You're NOT going to lose your virginity before you graduate.....college.

You WILL go to an amazing college even though your SAT's kinda sucked
You WILL get an incredible job and make your parents proud
You WILL go on to meet amazing people and you will be a great friend to them
You WILL meet some really awful people and you will make a fierce enemy
You WILL fall in love and someone WILL fall in love with you...SPOILER ALERT: It's going to be a guy.
You WILL get your heart broken because of a bad romance (write that one down too)

Well Sean I really hope you enjoy the next 10 years....the day you turn 26 you'll realize how fortunate you were to have been your 16 year old self despite your terrible skin and awful Boston accent. Your life isn't perfect but stop thinking anyone's is. Your dad will come home safely, your mom will get sober, and your sister will still be your best friend...and a complete bitch.

That's the hotness

Keep smiling and keep working hard. The "real world" is even bigger and scarier than you think and there are things you don't even know about that are going to hurt you but you have amazing friends; some you know now and some you will meet in the years to come but you are going to emerge from that awkward teenage shell and be one fucking amazing butterfly.

Be well and be safe,

Sean Doherty
11.23.2012


PS: buy APPLE stock!! 

My Roommate Throws A "Party"...a 9-1-1 Party

Hi All - before you read my latest post I just want to say THANK YOU to all of you for the 4,000+ blog views!!! My blog has been read in 12 different countries and is being translated in 4 different languages so thank you for spreading the love!!! And away we go....

I can't imagine I'm the easiest the person in the world to live with.  I run the blender at all hours of the morning making my HERBALIFE NUTRITION SHAKES, I leave clothes in the dryer all the time because well...I never learned how to fold clothes and thus just wear them out the dryer because my parents are not there to fold for me; and every morning I dance naked to one randomly selected Destiny's Child Song...sometimes in my room....NEVER near the blender... and often near the dryer because it's warm. But as cavalier as I am with my nudity and as difficult as it is to get glitter out of a suede couch I have NEVER caused someone to end up in the hospital and be on the verge of death...my roommate however, is not as fortunate.





Kelly, can you handle this?

 It all begin innocently enough.  My roommate informs me that he will be having a party clearly with no indication that an invitation was offered to me.

Roommate:
Yea, I'm having a party Saturday night?

The questioned inflection in his voice indicated to me that he wanted to know where I'd be while his shin dig was going on.  Luckily, I was booked to DJ a Gay night up in Phoenix. Ahhh, the return of DJ GLITTER in The Valley Of The Sun...a chance to break out my MAC gift card and try on those sequins shorts I got for my birthday...I felt like I was 5 again. 

Roommate:
So you know that bottle of red wine you have in the cabinet?

Me:
Yea?

Roommate:
Well I know you said you didn't drink red wine and both of your parents came and didn't drink it so I was wondering if I could have it?

Seriously? You got on my case about using too many dryer sheets (again I have no idea what those things do so I guess 10 was too many...but not the point) and now you want my booze? Gurl.

Roommate:
It's fine if you don't want me to have it. Oh, did you still need a ride to the airport next week?

You little bitch. Fine! Take my bottle of red wine. You're right. I don't drink it. I tried to get into red wine. Lord knows everyone in the Southwest has a 1/2 cow and bottle of Chianti for dinner and I was just trying to fit in!!

Me:
No, go ahead. But I don't need a ride to the airport actually. I got a limo. #DIVA

Saturday rolls around and I finish my live broadcast and head home to change before heading to Phoenix when my phone rings. It's the club...they don't need me tonight. FUUUUUCCCCCCKKKK. I don't have that many friends in this town but I scramble to see if any of them want to hang out. I call my boss and see if he needs any of the shows filled. Nothing. I had worked so hard to get my Saturday night off that I actually succeeded in getting my Saturday night off. I hate that I'm so good at my job.

I phone the roommate and tell him the news.

Roommate:
Oh, so you're not going to just go anyways?

Yea I'll just drive 2 hours and go clubbing by myself in a city I've never been out in. Hey Matthew Sheppard that's a swell idea. Sorry buddy I'm home for the night. Don't worry you won't even notice me...I guarantee.

I spend some extra hours at the radio station to give the party a chance to kick into gear and arrive home at approximately 8:45pm Arizona Standard Time. I walk into my apartment to find a party the likes of which I have never seen before. 8 people...boys and girls...sitting down...reading.

Roommate:
Oh, guys don't mind him. He's not coming to the party.

Me:
Oh people y'all really need to look up this "party" term
Hi everyone. Don't mind me...I'm just going to grab my dinner and head into my room.

I open the fridge and see NONE of my prepared dished. I make Chilli in my crock pot every Sunday and Wed and chicken every Tuesday and Fri...WHERE THE FUCK IS MY FOOD!?

Nerd 1:
We accidentally threw away your tupperware. We thought it was empty.

You thought my CLEAR tupperware full of CHILLI was empty? You have four eyes can't one of them see correctly?

Roommate:
That's not true. We just wanted room for the hummus and Papa John's we ordered, you can have some if you want.

Me:
ooooook...where is it?

Nerd 2:
Oh, no there isnt any left. Sorry. Andy ate it all.

Ok where is Andy because I am going to kick his ass!!

Suddenly I look into my water glass and notice ripples. The ground starts to move and I start having fears of an earthquake or a T-Rex attack...it got cold...like all the happiness was taken out of the room somehow...when suddenly this massive being waddles into the room...it's Andy...short for Andrea but wide for Andreaisagianthippotomous.

Nerd 3:
Andy, you ate all the Papa Johns?

Andy:
I'm sorry guys, you know I get hungry at parties.

Bitch, you're READING. This isn't a party! You get hungry reading?! Jesus Christ. Fine!! I'll just make some scramble eggs. Carry about your business.

Now, let me just quickly describe my apt. From my kitchen I have a direct view into my living room as it is an open plan kitchen. Please see diagram:




DO NOT CALL FOR PRICING! NO GOOD CAN COME OF THIS!



So as I'm preparing my scramble eggs I gain insight into what my roommates "party" entails.  You might need a Dramamine because this is about to get R-O-W-D-Y. Everyone brings their own copy of a certain Harry Potter book and they go around reading it to each other...but they don't just read it...they read it out loud in terrible terrible terrible British accents. I have never wished to be struck deaf so quickly.

Oy, A-ree Po-ah


While I wait for my stove to pre-heat I try and make casual conversation with the sideshow.

Me:
So do you guys go to school with Roommate?

Nerd 5:
Well, we met at my work

Me:
Oh awesome! What do you do

Nerd 5:
I'm a manager at Blockbuster

Me:
What?

Nerd 5:
Blockbuster Video?

Me:
No I heard you I'm not retarded...they still have those?
Nerd 5:
Um yea? Why?

Me:
Oh I don't know...only because NOBODY GOES TO BLOCKBUSTER ANYMORE. Why don't you tell me you breed pterodactyls I think I'd believe you more. Blockbuster? Really? Next.  

Nerd 4:
Well me and Andy are students of Roommate (roommate is a teacher)

Me:
Ohhhh...so how old are you?

Nerd 4:
We're 20

Fucking fantastic. I'm providing alcohol to fat, unattractive minors. Shoot me. 

Let me just take a second and describe the 9th World Wonder Andrea for a second shall I?
20 years old. 350lbs 5'2 stringy black hair that looks like its wet but you know it isn't, an odor or Bath and Body Works Cucumber Melon body spray and feet and wearing a SPAGHETTI STRAP BLACK TANK TOP. No, you are not reading a description from a 1998 Teen Movie this is a real person sitting in my living room.

Now I'm not being harsh on Andrea because she's fat....because remember I was a fat kid once and am still morbidly obese in the eyes of the gays so this isn't about judging fatty mcfat face. My hatred from Andrea comes from the fact that she was being a total bitch to me...and she ate my food...I also think she had my weeks work worth of chili as an appetizer because I did not find any evidence that it was thrown away but that is just my suspicion.

Suddenly Andy stands up...throws her arms in the air...shakes violently and falls to her knees. Great, now I have to replace the broken floorboard...thank god they're not reading 50 Shades of Grey is all I'm thinking.

She does it again and is shaking very violently. Part of me thinks she is about to bust into the opening sequence from the Lion King....but this time falls over completely...Roommate starts to look scared. She gets back up and is sweating...you sweat while you read too? Really Andy?

I ask her if she's Ok...she doesn't respond. She's awake but incoherent. Ok, now I'm nervous.

Me:
Is she ok?

Roommate:
I think you should call 911. She has a bad heart. He then starts to cry and curls up in a ball. That's helpful.  The other nerds leave to supposedly "find help"...or rent The Help from Blockbuster I really wasn't paying attention.

Again, I am not making light of the situation now nor was I then but I am very much about taking responsibility for your body. You're 20 years old and according to the height/weight chart should be 7'9 but you insist on eating everything you see AND doing drugs? And now I have to clean up your mess? FAN-TASTIC. I debate between calling animal control and 9-1-1 and chose the latter.

911:
9-1-1 (WAH WAH WAH WAH)

Me:
What?!

911:
(WAH WAH WAH WAH)

Me:
omg it's like talking to the teacher from Charlie Brown...I can't make out what this bitch is saying.
I hang up and dial again.

911:
9-1-1 what is your emergency?

Me:
Hi, I have a girl here and I think she might be having a heart attack.

911:
Ok, what is your address

Me:
Tucson Address

PAUSE...LONG PAUSE...LONGER PAUSE

911:
Sir, I am not showing your address on my map

Me:
WHAT?!  Are you serious? I need an ambulance!

911:
Sir, that address is not showing up on my system are you sure you have the right address?

Me:
I LIVE HERE! YES I HAVE THE RIGHT ADDRESS!

In my mind she was going to respond with DO NOT GET LOUD WITH ME SIR, DO NOT GET LOUD WITH ME...but she did not.

911:
Sir, I am going to have to put you on hold.

So Papa John's knows where I live...but the Tucson Police and Fire do not?? Peachy.

At this point Andrea rolls off of the couch. Roommate has locked himself in his room hysterically crying and my eggs are ruined. I prioritize. My phone is on speaker and I go over to pick Andrea up. DO YOU KNOW WHAT 350 POUNDS OF DEAD WEIGHT FEELS LIKE? My balls sure do! I live about 2 blocks from a hospital....if this bitch doesn't get back to me I am going to have to put Andrea into my car and drive her...I wish I had a forklift.

911:
Sir, we have dispatched paramedics and police to your location.

Me:
thank you!

911:
Do I need to stay on the phone with you?

Me:
Do you have something better to do?! I'd appreciate it.

Now, in semi fairness to the first response team of Tucson I live in a new gated community so it's not actually on google maps yet...but I live here with like 1,000 other people so God help them all in the event of a Rapture.




There's no place called home

I try and coerce Roommate out of his room. And I also try to ask Andrea questions to keep her occupied. Luckily, I came up with a genius idea...I asked her what she had to eat today...that'll keep her going for an hour or so.

The paramedics arrive and even they have the "Oh Shit" look on their faces when they see Andy. They start asking her questions about her health while they take her vitals and ready the crane to load her into the ambulance. They secure her down and take her away. I now have to get Roommate out of his room, find her nearest family and friends and let them know that she's in the hospital...up until 45 minutes ago my plans involved scrambled eggs, an apricot facial scrub, and perhaps 1-2 dance numbers in my room...and now I'm fucking Mariska Hargitay on SVU.

All set...lives at home...family notified...Roommate is useless and I meet her sister at the hospital because I'm a nice guy. I ask the sister if she'll be ok and she replies with the following:

"Oh, she'll be fine. This happens a lot. She has a pacemaker and if she gets too excited it can go off if she doesn't take her beta blockers"



Now...I'm not a doctor. I'll admit this right here and now. I have dated a nurse and cuddled with a doctor but that is about as much medical experience as I've had so my diagnosis might be uneducated but...THIS SHOULDN'T HAPPEN RIGHT!?!?! She was in a circle reading...it was not Caligula...I'm not certain how she got overly excited nor am I certain that a pacemaker should randomly "go off" but in the end I was just glad nobody died and Andy was as fine as she could be....I seriously need a new roommate.









She's OK!



My Blind Date From Hell...but at least Hell is hot

For this blog, everything in italics is what I'm thinking...I don't have the balls to say the things you will read in italics

It is no surprise that things in the love department have been painfully slow since my move to Tucson and there are several factors that comprise this. 1) I (thankfully) work 7 days a week 2) there are 2 gay bars in a city of 1 million people so your choices are slim 3) This is the 6th most dangerous city in the country so my glitter and short shorts have been sitting in my closet safe and bullet hole free.

Now don't get me wrong...I'm a gay male in the 21st century...I have apps on my phone that can have a 6ft deep pan green eyes pair of loafers and no socks delivered to my door in 15min or less...but I'm not that kind of girl. I'm the kind of girl that likes to go out on the town and meet people, have a reason to get dressed up and enjoy good conversation as I knock back 3-4 martinis...then I'm the first type of girl. JK.

I made the HORRIBLE mistake one day of telling one of the sales people at my station that I hadn't been on a good date since I've arrived and that's when things went terribly awry. All of sudden everyone and their mother at my radio station was coming into my office with guys they wanted to set me up with. Their nephews, their friends sons (and one daughter which I still don't understand) other people at the station (made that mistake once before never again) and basically everyone they knew that could be gay/Canadian. I felt like fucking Ling-Ling the panda and if I didn't find a mate soon they gays were going be extinct.

Courtesy of the Save the Homo Foundation

So one of the sales people who is about to make me oodles of money tells me she has the "PERFECT GUY" for me. Now like I said, this is a woman who is working on making me a large sum of money so I really can't piss her off and say no so I ask if she has a picture of him...she shows a picture of him, her and their other friend all sitting down and drinking wine. Perfect, I can't possibly go on a date with someone who doesn't drink...call me old fashioned.

Saturday rolls around and I'm somewhat excited to get out on the town. I do my normal wax, bleach, tan, bronze, glitter, spackle and spritz routine just to make sure I'm showroom ready and I hear a knock at the door. I look through the keyhole and don't see anything so I walk away. Another knock. Hmmmm...I open the door. There is sales woman's friend...ALL 4'10 of him. Now, I have nothing against short people since I'm no NBA player myself. Plus I think they are naturally hilarious so I'll forgive him for leaning against my door like he is a suave James Bond. For the time being we are going to call him Tim, Tiny Tim. He offers to drive me to dinner so we head out to his car. As we are walking to his car I look down...not just down onto the top of his head but to his feet. Are those...are those spurs??

Me:
Are you wearing spurs?

TT:
Easy cowboy we'll get there. They're really expensive boots but I know someone at the BOOT BARN

Me:

Fuck my life. I'm on a date with the eighth dwarf Horny.

No surprise here...Tim drives the BIGGEST TRUCK I HAVE EVER SEEN.



All Aboard the Overcompensation Express

I'm interested to see what kind of Cirque de Sole shit he's going to pull to get into the car and wondered if I should offer to ally oop him but he manages and away we go.

The ride to dinner was AWFUL to say the least. When he wasn't talking about how much money his family has he was talking about how popular he was at the clubs (remember, there are only 2) and how busy he was working for his family's company. I'd be busy too since we're only 6 weeks away from Christmas...better get crackin on them toy trucks. He tells me that his family has a home in Tucson but their winter home is a ranch in Nogales Mexico. BOSTON PEOPLE TAKE NOTE: That is the equivalent of saying "I might be from Lynn but I have a summer home in Worcester"...I'm not impressed. 

We arrive at dinner and he insists he order for me since this is "his spot" and "everyone knows him here" I'm kind of doubting that a restaurant where every waitress has the same Lupe name tag on is really your Cheers Norm but I allow him anyways. YAY! DRINKS!!

TT:
Shouldn't we toast?

Me:
Um sure, to what?

TT:
My birthday

Me:
Oh, whens your birthday?

TT:
Today

Me:
So it's your birthday and you're spending it on a blind date with me?
Shit, do I have to pay now?

TT:
Oh yea it's today and looks like I got exactly what I wanted. Feliz Cumpleanos to me eh?

Me:
I'm going to vomit

Lupe #12 comes by and asks us what we want for dinner and Tim over here says the following:
La esposa y yo tenemos dos tacos de carne con salsa de cara cerebro

Now, I'm not Rosetta Stone here but I quickly look at the menu...oh, he just ordered us FACE MEAT TACOS WITH BRAIN SAUCE...ooooh HELL NO.  

TT:
You're going to love them, some say they are an aphrodisiac

Me:
Some say coffee stunts your growth, guess you didn't listen to them either
Oh, no thanks...I actually don't eat red meat. I'll just have the chicken

TT:
That's cool...you'll need to save room for dessert anyways ::wink::

Me:
Did you bring some cookies from your tree?

My food was fine, his looked like some wayward Hispanic animal got caught in tractor and landed in a pile of rice and beans.

TT:
Are you ready for my cake...I might need some help blowing out the candles

Me:
I'm about to turn on the ceiling fan and blow you right out of this fucking restaurant
I don't think they have dessert here, it's not on the menu.

TT:
Oh no, I called a head they're doing something special for me. A special treat with a special boy

Me:
You'll be on a special edition of 20/20: Murders In Tucson if you don't STFU
Great.

And then, Lupes from across the restaurant gathered and presented this delicious masterpiece to my micro date

It's a Little Debbie for my Little Douche Bag!

I sing Happy Birthday to him as he keeps constant eye contact with me the whole time. He didn't even blink so I had to hold back my laughter. As he blows out the candle and caught his breath he asked me if I wanted some.

TT:

Are you sure? They say good things come in small packages

Me:

They lied

No thank you

TT:

It's odd, you look like the kind of guy that likes to eat

Me:

You look like the kind of guy that should be next to Dr. Evil

What does that mean?

TT:

Oh, I'm not trying to offend you...I like guys with a little meat of their bones

Me:

Me too, their knee bones

I get it from my mama. (The waitress had taken my silverware or else I would have slit his throat)

We start home. THANK GOD IT'S ALMOST OVER!! Wait, where are you going? My house is left...why are you going right? Thank god I had mase in my purse.

TT:

I just want to go look at the stars for a little bit. The sky seems so big doesn't it.

Me:

6 year olds seem to big to you

I guess.

TT:

So you're a DJ huh? 

Me:

Yup

TT:

Will you play my favorite song?

Me:

Sure, what is it?

Small Town Girl? All the small things? The theme to it's a small world?

TT:

Save a horse ride a cowboy.

Me:

I.WANT.TO.DIE.

I don't play country music sorry.

Apparently Tim heard that as "That turns me on, come kiss me" because he actually leaned to kiss me. Not wanting be rude and turn away an advance I do the polite thing and start coughing violently to the point of dry heaving.

Me:

Oh I'm really sorry, that food must have disagreed with me...I think I'm going to be sick.

TT:

Awww I'm sorry baby (did I mention he called me baby all night? Luckily he thought Muppet was my cute pet name for him too) should I take you home?

Me:

At this point I'll run

I think that'd be best

So he drives me home, the whole time I am pretending I might vomit on his custom leather seats with HIS NAME stitched in them and he walks me to my door.

TT:

Are you sure you dont want me to come in and take care of you?

Me:

I have a nightstand thanks.

No, but appreciate it.

TT:

When can we do this again?

Me:

How about the 32nd of Jolember you freak

Oooo I don't know...I'm really busy. I'll call you

TT:

Don't wait too long baby. I'm like a shooting star...guys like me don't come along all the time

Me:

You're a dwarf star

TT:

What?

Me:

Goodnight!!

Needless to say I did not call him nor have I returned any of his sext messages.  I wasn't sure if it was his pinky or his penis he was texting me but I feel like I made the right move there.

I'm sure he's fine and is on some one's shelf posing on top of a trophy at this very moment and me....I'd rather be single than settle. 

Would You Like Some Gay Sex With That!?

My eyes open as the initial pain slowly subsides. I do not know his name and only met him moments ago but our two bodies engulfed in sweat show no sign of separation. His legs assert themselves to confirm I cannot move and I succumb to his strength.  He leans on top of me and I can feel the heat from his breath on my face as the moist drops of sweat glide swiftly from his face into my mouth.  I glance over to see the others waiting eagerly for their turn. With my legs on his shoulders and my feet by his ears I brace myself with my back on the floor. Before his body begins the swift, primal, motions one final thought enters my mind...

MMA IS THE GAYEST SPORT IN THE WORLD!

Sorry to disappoint you but this isn't a blog recounting tales of 50 Shades of Glitter, this is my observation blog about the extremely homoerotic sport known as Mixed Martial Arts. I can only assume the "Mixed" part is in reference to people's sexuality because there is NO WAY you can be 100% straight and be fully involved in this "sport".

Let's just put this into perspective. This is ME writing this blog. I go by the name GLITTER...I'm the gayest person you and I know. I took my gay self and performed a gay song about gay pride in a nightclub in London called G-A-Y. So if I say something is really gay please assume there is no exaggeration being made...this is LEGIT GAY.

Let's start with the apparel shall we?

MMA has a very "less is more" policy when it comes to fighting attire. The less clothes you wear, the better of a fighter you are? That's possibly the logic. This doesn't just apply to professional fights. Everyone who takes classes is encouraged to be shirtless (so you don't break a nail on your shirt) and not wear shorts with pockets (we had the same rule in gay flag football). So for the most part you are practicing with guys wearing boxer briefs and cups. Me personally? No ma'am. Nice girls keep their cookies in the jar.




On Wednesdays we wear Pink

 

The class is broken up into 3 parts...Greco-Roman Wrestling, MMA Grappling, and UFC Striking. GR Wrestling is exactly as gay as you picture it. Your starting position is a firm embrace with the other man like so:

Grecco-Roman Wrestling circa 69 BC

 

Now most people think it's just about getting the other person to bottom, I mean, on the bottom but no no there is a much more sentimental rule. You can be on the bottom but as long as you still have your hands gripped tightly around your sweaty opponent you are still in the game. Sooooo as long as you really want to be there...on the ground...with a dude on top of you...holding him....you can win.....but it's not gay. If you're not already covered in secretion do not worry, there are ample tubs of Vaseline surrounding the ring so you can get be nice and slippery as soon as the two of you get going

.




MMA Grappling is sort of like wrestling except you start out already on the ground. With foreplay skipped you are ready to be mounted. In fact, that is how practice starts...the coach asks you which one of the guys you would like to mount you and how many guys you think you can handle mounting you in sequence.  Your job is to then sweatily maneuver yourself through his thighs, under his crotch, and around him so that you are now mounting him...we call this being versatile. Once you have successfully mounted your opponent, you use your body to center the weight of your chest onto his body and force all of your weight through your chest causing him to pull tap out

For heterosexuals (and my roommate) it is described like this:

Newton's First Law: An object that is in motion will not change its velocity unless an unbalanced force acts upon it. This is known as uniform motion.

For everyone else reading my blog...it is described like this:

Once you have successfully mounted one opponent, another one is thrust upon you. This is supposed to resemble the way street fights go when you are ganged up on...with no shirt...and guys mounting you one at a time covered in Vaseline....but it's not gay.

(ps- when I got mugged in London by a group of guys...none of this awesomeness happened. Just sayin)



Nothing gay happening here



Finally with UFC Striking, one would think they are in the clear with regards to potential M4M action but alas, you're never too far from sodomy when you're greased up with another man in cage.

With names like "cipher scissors" and "flying kicks", UFC Striking is nothing more than a choreographed dancing with the inclusion of  your fists.



The gayest part about MMA fighting?? YOU HUG AFTERWARDS! Homo say what? Yes, you hug. As if you haven't had enough contact getting pregnant for the past 3 x 5min rounds, you end your practice with a final man tackle to let your partner know it was good for you too.

You da You da Best

So the next time you see some neck tattooed, roid chasing, he-man, benching up because he's training to be a UFC champ...just know that at some point in his life he's had a tea bag on his nose.



Totes str8ees




Just two dudes....playing around



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Strangers With Candy

If you're reading this and you know me, you'll know that I will do basically anything for a dollar. I would say that doesn't include taking my clothes off for money but you and I both know that's a lie.

I acquired most of my wealth from early age selling counterfeit Louis Vuitton bags out of the trunk of my Buick Century back at Matignon. Thanks to my Nextel, I was able to get a wholesale rate from my very nice friend "Kay" down on New York City's Canal Street. From there it was a parlay into the entertainment industry where no job was too small. I consider my work ethic to be pretty amazing. I have held a steady job at the same company for 8 years and have worked everyday since I was 11.  If anyone asks me to do an event or a promotion, chances are if there is money behind it, you won't hear me say no. (ie- Grand Opening of a Big Y Supermarket or Circle K Gas Station)

So it was no surprise that I accepted a gig hosting the 2012 Tucson Fiesta Market Opening this past weekend. I'm still learning about Tucson but everyday there is something new and exciting to hate about this place and Saturday was no different. Since tourism to Mexico has slowed down due to drug carteling and mass murders, the brilliant folks of Arizona thought it'd be smart to give Mexican merchants ONE DAY VISAS (because I'm sure they'll go home) to come into border towns such as Tucson and sell their wears. I figured this would be a great time to stock up on Christmas gifts for family and friends...who doesn't love a pinata full of cocaine?




Pretty Much Sums It Up


I arrive early at the event and start to walk towards the staging area to meet my bilingual crew when I get the strange feeling I'm being followed. I continue thinking it will subside, but it begins to get worse. Now, I was jumped before and have seen one too many episodes of Buffy The Vampire Slayer to know that if your instincts are telling you somethings following you, you best be prepared.

I reach for my wooden stake and turn around quickly. I see nothing- then glancing down quickly I notice a small Mexican girl...who couldn't be older than 6. A cute, dirty looking thing with big brown eyes that have never seen the inside of a Public School System. She looks up at me... and since I love instagram, I took a picture of her:
























Ladies is pimps too

 







Girl:
Chicle?

Me:
What?

Girl:
Chicle Señor? Chicle?

Me:
I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're saying. Run along now.

Girl:
Chicle?

Thank God Siri speaks Spanish Chicle = GUM

Me:
ooooh, you want some gum? I'm so sorry, I don't have any gum.

Girl:
No Señor , Chicle!

As she says this she opens her hand and shows me 2 packs of gum that look like they were run over by a Dodge Hemi.

Girl:
Chicle es one dollar

WHOA bitch, you're trying to SELL ME BEAT UP GUM?? I'm all set.

Now bear in mind this has NOTHING to do with my lack of generosity towards small people and food. Every year I stalk up on enough Thin Mints from those little cookie peddlers the Girl Scouts to last me until they reach my door again. Each Christmas I buy plenty of Peanut Brittle from Eagle Scouts (yes, I realize that gay people can't be troop leaders but c'mon...it's Peanut Brittle) And anyone that came to a cookout of mine this past summer will know I bought enough Carmel Popcorn to send two small buses full of retards to summer camp...this is about product value and return on investment.

I try very hard to tell her I do not want to buy her gum but she persists.

Girl:
Two packs Señor, two packs es one dollar

I enjoy a haggler. She's quite business savvy for someone that probably doesn't know her ABC's so I concede. FINE here is one dollar...thank you for your gum I'm about to throw away.

Suddenly...I was SURROUNDED. Oh shit I thought, the gum is laced with drugs and this was a DEA sting...I KNEW IT!!

No no, I was surrounded by tiny Mexican hustlers all clamoring for me to buy their gum as well.

Señor! Señor! Señor! Chicle Señor? SEENOMAN Chicle?  Señor! Señor! Señor! SEENOMAN Chicle! SEENOMAN!

I was dumbfounded. What could I do? Hit them? Pepper spray them? Use some of my MMA moves on them? Their toddlers for crying out loud!! I did what any self respecting person would do...I ran.

Through the burnt orange and yellow carpets, past the turquoise clay dishes and religious sculptures and nearly missing the mariachi band as I was MERE FEET FROM THE STAGE. They found me:

Please Señor! Please buy the chicle!

They had such sad, sad little eyes. I did feel bad for them since this was all they knew. I also knew there was a Pimp-like father figure sitting in a Ford Espisito nearby waiting for them to give him his cut so I knew these weren't offers I could really refuse. I gave them all $25 dollars in exchange for SO MUCH MEXICAN GUM I will never be able to eat it all...mostly because I'm giving it to everyone for Christmas presents.



Feliz Navidad to EVERYONE I KNOW!

The moral to my story is simple...never walk by yourself...never carry cash on you...and NEVER take candy from strangers.