I Need A Favor (No Money, I Promise)

You know I don't make special blogs for no reason so please know...this is a special one!

I get these updates from Blogger telling me how many people are reading my blog, where these people are, and how often they read it...today as you are reading this...you are 1 of 16,761 people in 23 different countries reading my blog. This is not me patting myself on the back. This is me taking the opportunity I have to each and everyone of you for a personal favor...no money needed...shouldn't take more than 60 seconds.

I want you to think of the word STRENGTH and form a picture in your mind. It could be physical strength (weight lifting, yoga, boxing) it could be mental strength (crunching numbers, problem solving) it could be emotional strength (dealing with a breakup)...I want you to think of the word STRENGTH in whatever capacity you can...the strongest amount of strength you can muster and I'd like you to put it in a teeny mental envelope and send it to me. I need it for my family.

My grandfather's family The Doherty's are the strongest people God ever put on the face of the earth. Stubborn as all hell, but strong. My grandfather is one of 8 siblings and is only one of 4 left. My grandfather's sister is currently in the hospital and her health is not the best. Now, I realize you get bombarded left, right and center for people asking you for LIKES on facebook or to forward chain emails and I personally hate those...so that's why I just want you to close your eyes and think of the word STRENGTH. To those of you in California and Arizona it could be this morning, for my Boston/NYC/Brazil friends it might be during your lunch hour, for my European and Middle Eastern friends it could be tonight when you're driving home (actually, I lied, don't close your eyes when you're driving home please) as for you readers in Australia...Honestly, I have no idea what time it is there...is it even still March?! Anywho...it could be right now.

I am not looking for a miracle...I am not looking for sympathy...I am looking for strength for my aunt, for her family...my family...our family. How do I know you have strength to give? Because I know you even if we have never met.

You are a unique stranger driven to my blog because you find humor in my everyday life and to find that humor takes strength.

You have gone to work with a smile on your face no matter how bad life is, and trust me it's been pretty shitty at times, because you have to and that, takes strength.

You are mothers, fathers, siblings, husbands, wives and family units and to deal with your family (and for your family to deal with you) takes strength.

You are Christians, Jews, Muslims, Atheists, Agnostics, Democrats, Republicans, Libertarians and to listen to what other people have to say even though you disagree with it and you know they're wrong takes strength. 

You are servicemen and women, fighting for our country in remote areas of the world not knowing if you are going to make it home to your loved ones and to wake up and keep fighting each day takes strength.

You are those servicemen and women's families...you have to maintain a normal life even though you are riddled with fear and anxiety over what the future hold but you march on...that, takes strength. 

You are my family and friends, you know me personally as both Sean and Glitter and Lord Knows...to deal with me takes strength.

You are 16,761 people that I am asking to come together today and send strength. No matter the outcome, no matter what happens, I know my family will need it and I know they will appreciate it.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart and promise that if you ever need strength from me, it is yours to have.

Very Sincerely,

Sean "Glitter" Doherty

The Nude Gay Art Show

So let's recap the past month shall we? I get a phone call while at work to fly home to Boston because my grandfather was in the hospital and went back to Boston for 5 days. Before leaving, I quickly text Roommate "Hey, family emergency in Boston, be back when I can." It was simple common courtesy! I wasn't expecting ANYTHING in terms of a "hope everything is OK" or "let me know if you need anything" because I have come to the realization that my Roommate is simply not human. In fact, my most recent description of him is for you to think about the Alien from Men In Black who tries and shoves himself inside of a human body but doesn't quite fit...that's Roommate.

So I return home from Boston after knowing that Francis J is going to be just fine but I return home to find the apartment empty. That was February 23rd.  A few days go by and I realize that Roommate is simply not home. His bed is perfectly made like he does everyday and none of his 17 measuring cups have been used and the rotated.  Also, the apartment actually starts to smell good so I know he can't possibly be cooking anything. I finally sleep several nights like a baby...a baby who usually gets woken up by strangers having sex in the room next door. I am actually really happy to have the apartment to myself and find new and interesting ways to appreciate the apartment that is usually so full of books, nerds, tricks and curry.

DANCE PARTY!

But after a few weeks, I started to get worried!! As much as I don't enjoy Roommate's company, I never wish harm upon anyone. (Trust me, if I wanted to hurt you I wouldn't wait for karma I'd do it myself). So I sent him a few texts. "Hey, haven't seen you in a while, all good?" No response. Now, it's nearing March 15th and I am getting ready for another planned trip to Boston and there is STILL no sign of Roommate. I'm worried. So then I remember about one of Roommate's pet peeves and figure maybe if I can anger him, he'll respond to scold me. Allow to elaborate:

When I moved in with Roommate, we each agreed to take one bill on our credit cards. He took electricity, I took water. Both bills are roughly $70/month give or take $5. Now, wouldn't you think that if I have one $70 and he has another $70 bill that we would just pay our respective bills and call it even?? ME FUCKING TOO. No no, Roommate insists that we give each other half of the money from the other bill and document the transaction. If anyone has any idea why he'd want to do that, I'm open for suggestions. Any who, the few times that I have been traveling or busy or whatever I'd just text him "Sorry, I forgot to send you half the water bill I'll just pay the whole thing right now." to which I'd INSTANTLY get a phone call asking why etc etc. So I figure I'll text him "Forgot to pay the water bill" and figured within 10 minutes I'd a text, a phone call, and a carrier pigeon all scolding me for my actions...it was the perfect plan!!

Nope, no response from Roommate.

So I send him one final text..."Heading back to Boston until Tuesday, hope everything is OK"

Ok, well...as worried as I might be...it was not going to intrude on my plans to fly home for St. Patrick's Day and show off my new biceps  enjoy some quality time with my family and friends!

I arrive home LATE Monday night instead of Tuesday morning as I originally thought. I am not sure why Arizona doesn't participate in Daylight Savings time or why no direct flights go to Tucson but all I know is...if I were to get on a non-stop flight from Boston and travel same amount of time it takes me to get to Tucson...I would be in INDIA. Obviously because I flew coach, I was given nothing but laughter from the first class passengers to dine on during my 15 hours of travel so I was STARVING and couldn't wait to make myself some food.

I arrive home and see a light on. Ok, I think to myself...this is a relief! I schlep my bags up the steps and set them on the doorstep, find my keys and open the door...and of course, there is Roommate stark naked in my living room surrounded by dudes.

Me:

Ummm, hi

Roommate:

Oh hey, thought you weren't getting back until tomorrow

Me:

I didn't understand the time changes

Roommate:

Oh

Me:

Yea...do you mind putting on some clothes? (there goes my thought of eating food....ever again)

Roommate:

Oh yea sorry. Do you want some wine?

Me:

Please don't touch anything further until I Lysol everything

Roommate:

Sorry I didn't get your texts. I was in Mexico volunteering for a student art project. I was only planning on going there for the weekend but then I met this group of art students and they were there on spring break so we were hanging out and then they wanted to do another piece so I invited them back here to sketch me. That's Loco, Luiz, Rocco, Chino and Nibbles. This is my roommate sh-

Me:

Maria...what? if this is the traveling group of West Side Story then I want to be Maria.

Roommate:

Well, I mean they are always looking for extra models

Me:

1) I don't like being naked in the shower

2) If this is an "art group"...why does nobody have art supplies and why is Rocco also not wearing clothes?

3) If they are "students" why does Nibbles look about 40 and have teardrop tattoos? Pretty sure that means he's killed people....I'm going to bed.

Roommate:

Wait, there's just one more thing

Me:

What?

Roommate:

You paid the whole water bill? I thought we talked about this?

Me:

We did. Remind me tomorrow and we can talk about you holding Mexican Art Student Painting Parties and maybe if we can agree on ending those, I'll think about not paying the whole water bill. Good night.

Luiz:

Buenas noches buen chico buscando

Me:

Ew

Children Of The Porn

I'd like to think I am always there for my friends. Before this gig, it was easy for me to jump on a plane and fly to whatever part of the world my friends were in if they felt that they needed me. Once, a friend in Norway got pregnant and the baby daddy left her and she just needed a friend...so a quick trip to Oslo got her feeling 100% better. Another time, a friend needed help moving on the hottest day in July and rather than working and making a bunch of extra money on the weekend, I saddled up my Cadillac and got that bitch relocated in a mere few hours.  Then there was the time that my best friend in the world got deported from the United Kingdom after taking his expired visa to Greece for 2 months to sleep with a bunch of chicks and then tried to get back to see one of the 10 Michael Jackson shows that never happened because he died...Michael Jackson...not my friend.

So when I got word that a friend of mine from Boston was going to be in LA for the weekend I knew that not matter what, I had to see him! Now, this isn't just any friend of mine...this is a friend with a VERY famous family. His grandparents were celebrities on the big screen during the hay day of Hollywood and he spent his summers at the home of a family friend of theirs, George Lucas. So when I got the invite (read: invited myself) to visit his family in LA LA Land, I was MORE than excited about the opportunity.

Ron:
Can't wait to see ya this weekend buddy! What airport you flying into?

Me:
Van Nuys, obvi...what do you think I started flying commercial?

Ron:
I'm flying commercial

Me:
Me too, I land in LAX at 7:30.

Ron:
Ok great, got a bunch of stuff planned...bring something fancy to wear.

OMG!! My friend with the famous family wants me to bring something fancy to wear in HOLLYWOOD!!! I started racking my brain on potential ideas.

I'm no stranger to red carpets...but this was an LA Red Carpet...I could barely contain myself on the 45 minute flight from Arizona and was so happy to see Ron when HIS DRIVER picked me up. This guy is class plus.


Ron:
So...did you bring a suit?

Me:
What? no good?

Ron:
No, I mean...you look...interesting...just not sure you're going to fit in

Me:
I'm a chameleon. I blend in wherever...so whats the event...Movie Screening? Gallery Opening?

Ron:
We're going to a funeral.

Me:
A what?

Ron:
A funeral. One of my friends dads passed away and we need to make an appearance.

Me:
Have I met this person?

Ron:
Were you at my birthday in January?

Me:
I was living in Arizona

Ron:
Ok then, no you haven't.

So here we are driving up the I-10 to Beverly Hills on my way to a friend of a friends father's funeral...not really the way I planned my fabulous LA vacation but I can adjust.  We arrive at the funeral and I notice something right off the bat...no body.

Me:
(whispering) where is the body?

Ron:
(whispering) in the ground. he's Jewish

Me:
(whispering) then what's with the priest?

Ron:
I have no fucking idea

Yes, Ron's friend Abraham Hebrewburg's father was in fact Jewish as was his mother...so the appearance of the priest was something I had to question.

Ron:
Abe, so sorry about your dad man.

Abe:
Thanks so much for coming. Is this your boyfriend?

Ron:
No, dude, I'm straight and married...You were in my wedding.

Abe:
Oh, yea sorry. Mom gave me a pill to help my nerves...I think it was Valium

Me:
I think it was angel dust......what?

Ron (looking offended):
You could do worse.

Me:
Yes I know I could- but we aren.... why are we even discussing this?!

So Abe explains to us that when his father passed away suddenly, there were no Rabbis available to bury the body by sundown so his mother thought it'd be 6 to 1 half dozen of the other...but this was BEVERLY HILLS...I cut off 5 Rabbis at baggage claim...this town is full of Jews! Well once the priest had buried the body his mother felt it rude to not have him do the service...but a Rabbi was en route as well.

So as Ron is talking to the family I make like the chameleon I am and try and assimilate myself into my surroundings. I do a circle of the room and I make a realization that I never thought I'd have the courage to say...there were A LOT of smokin hot chicks in this place. Not even joking, the ratio of hot women to unhot women was like 100:1. They all looked soooo fake, sooo plastic. I haven't seen this much platinum blonde hair since my sister bought a pack of extensions at Costco.

Where have I seen these girls before?? They weren't A-list stars...they weren't B-list stars...I couldn't think of it so I asked Ron if Abe's dad was in show biz.

Ron:
Yea, his dad worked as a movie director. Isn't it great to see how many of the stars he worked with came out to pay tribute to him? It's sweet.

Me:
It's definitely something but sweet is not the word I would use. Ron, these chicks are porn stars.

Ron:
What? No. His dad didn't direct porn! He made educational films.

Me:
Yea...SEX ED films!! Unless you count the one over there that did Dallas as a Geography film.

Ron:
You're being ridiculous. Plus, what would you know about straight porn anyways?

Me:
Ummm you're talking to the guy who at the age of 12 ordered $7,500 worth of the Spice Channel on his a/b cable box during one week of April vacation....I know a female porn star when I see one.

Ron:
Stop it. You're being silly. I have to go help Abe with the hot dogs.

Me:
HOT DOGS?!

Ron:
Yea. His dad really loved this hot dog place in Calabasas and he had them cater all of his parties so Abe thought it would be a nice send off to have them cater the reception.

Me:
And you see NOTHING odd about this? Nothing at all?

Ron:
No you're right! I know. I actually thought about it too; but Abe cleared it up.

Me:
Annnnnnd?

Ron:
Their all beef so they're Kosher.

Oh for Christ's sake....FINE! I'll see you inside the reception.

The reception was a hoot!! If I knew it was going to be a AVN convention I would have brought my camera! No no, that's mean. It was a solemn and sad event but a joyous celebration of a man's life who brought happiness to millions and millions of men and women (mostly men) and the kindred spirits that converged to celebrate the soul and legacy of this talented and dedicated filmmaker...while eating hot dogs.

What's My Age Again?

I have been called A LOT of things in my lifetime...and most of them at one time or another are true. Anti-social...is NOT one of the words that describes who I am.  Even back in the late 90's when I thought I was black, the early 2000's when all I wanted to do was be the 250lb member of the next great boy band or even in 2006 when I used to cut off all the sleeves of my shirts to make matching wristbands...I never wanted to be alone...I clearly just couldn't find friends.

Fast forward to present day and I am a mother-fucking social butterfly.

Even in Tucson Arizona, where the gay population consists of ONLY eighteen year olds and octogenarians, I have still found my niche in the social society.  Speed bumps like last weekend, however, make me fear for the next generation.

 I live in Lollipop Land. I say this because my "Luxury Under 30 Community" is in reality, expensive dorms.  When thrust into a job across the country that I had 16 days to report to and zero time to house hunt, I literally picked the WORST place in the world to live...in the WORST place in the world. Now, these are not labeled as "Student Housing" because that might ward off young professionals like myself. To me, Luxury Under 30 Community suggests urban professionals who don't quite have the means to afford purchasing a home but want the luxuries of a heated pool and gym to come home to after their medical residencies, entry level jobs, or grad courses. No no, this is the home of the University of Arizona where most freshman drive 5 series BMW's and the great academic scholars of Kourtney Kardashian and Nicole Richie are alumni...so for a radio DJ who in real life isn't making terrible money AT ALL...to the U of A kids I pretty much look like this:

Now, I have no idea how much money Roommate makes, I know he can afford pounds of horse meat, patchouli oil and probably the platinum membership subscription to "online buddies" but I know he does not make enough to afford dish detergent, laundry detergent, or Clorox wipes since he always seems to need to use mine. I do know that he can afford 50% of our rent and it isn't cheap. Aside from Roommate, I haven't really interacted with that many people in my complex because to be honest, they are all children.  If you think you have nothing in common with your neighbors, imagine listening to them discuss what their major is going to be or how excited they are to do SHOTS this weekend.

In the building's really nice gym, I get to re-live the bro's past weekend's shenanigans of "that chick from Delta Phi" and what a dick Professor Shultzman is for not passing his English Lit paper...

Now, I know what you're thinking...oh you're a DJ...you know celebrities and talk about Pop Culture all day...you must be in your glory. The answer to your thought is ABSOLUTELY NOT. While I love making money to feign interest in the lives of talentless people, rest assured that is not the topic of conversation I am looking to strike up with people I socialize with.  My few conversations with the children have resulted in the following excerpts:

Lost Boy:

So do you like wanna come over and drink later?

Me:

Umm, ok...want me to bring wine?

Lost Boy:

Sure.

Me:

What kind?

Lost Boy:

White

Me:

Ok...any preference?

Lost Boy:

Ah yea...white?

Me:

Yea, what kind of white?

Lost Boy:

Oh, I didn't know there were different kinds.

Me:

Yup Sport, there are.

(I did NOT go to his apt for wine)

---------------------

Girl 1:

So we're having a party later, do you want to come?

Me:

Oh, no thanks. I'm really busy.

Girl 2:

Omg, no, it'll be totally bitchin. Come on, stop by!!

Me:

Ok fine, you want me to bring anything?

Girl 1:

Omg yes!! We've been trying to find someone to buy us booze for like a month!

(I did NOT buy them alcohol) 

---------------------



Guy 1:

So, what do you do for work?

Me:

I'm a radio DJ

Guy 2:

Aw dude that's bitchin (apparently this is the hot word with the youth today)

Me:

Yup...bitchin

Guy 1:

So, what kind of music do you play?

Me:

Well, one station is like Top 40...the other station is 90's music

Guy 2:

So like oldies?

(I did, in fact, murder them both for calling the Spice Girls "Oldies") 

-----------------

So apparently, to these children, I'm a dinosaur. And I'm actually OK with that because up until this point, I use my apartment as a work week base and spend my money on hotels rooms and trips on the weekends.  I was talking to a co-worked of mine who asked me what I was doing this weekend.

Me:
Ritz-Carlton. Frozen Drinks...Evian Spritz..the usual. You?

Co-Worker:
Going to dinner at MY COMPLEX

Me:
Oh, what's bringing you there?

Co-Worker:
This guy I'm seeing. He's a little younger than I am.

Now, she is a very attractive and extremely sweet 45 year old. Nobody in my complex could be near her age unless she's dating the security staff.

Me:
Oooh how fun!! How much younger??

Co-Worker:
He's 33

LIES MRS. ROBINSON!! LIES!! 

Co-Worker:
We've been seeing each other a few weeks. We mostly just stay at my place but since my house is getting worked on this weekend I suggested we stay at his place.

Me:
Oh, and what's he do?

Co-Worker:
He's in accounting

Me:
Yea. Accounting 101. 
Well, you know that's the complex I live in right? You guys should come over for a drink!!

Co-Worker:
Oh?? Umm...well...I'm sure we'd love to...it's just that...well I might have told him I was a bit younger than I am.

Me:
How old did you say you were?

Co-Worker:
34?

Me:
To what power? 
Oh, well...I mean...I'm not going to say anything

Co-Worker:
Oh great, I'll tell him and we'll be by about 9.

Me:
If it isn't past his bedtime 

So 9 rolls around and I open a bottle of Riesling and I hear a knock at the door. It's Co-Worker and her beau. Beau I immediately recognize from the gym and can, without a doubt, claim that he is no older than 22...old enough to buy booze...not yet graduated college. 

She...looks like JonBenet Ramsey.

Co-Worker:
Hi Sean!! This is Trent.

Trent realizes I know he's a toddler and immediately tries to strike up a mature conversation.

Trent:
Oh Sean, I see you have the V12 CTS...I got an AMG G55 myself.

Me:
I have no idea what any of those words mean. Do you want wine?

So to recap - sitting in front of me is my 45 year old co-worker pretending to be 34 and my 22 year old neighbor pretending to be 33. I couldn't think of anything that could make it more awkward. But I didn't have to think anymore because IN WALKS ROOMMATE!

Roommate:
Hi Sean, Hi Trent, don't mind me...I'm just going getting some books and then I have to head back out to library.

Me:
Wait, how does he know Trent? Roommate doesn't go to the gym/in the sun. The only people he talks to are his random hookups and his students. Oh my god no!! No!! Trent is one of Roommate's students! Please don't say anything Roommate, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE just for once in your life, be cool!

Roommate:
So Trent, the TA tells me you were looking for some tutoring in economics, I have some other staff looking around for you but I'll let your academic advisor know.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKK

Co-Worker:
What's he talking about?

Trent:
Ummmm

Roommate:
Oh, I'm sorry...are you his mom? Did you not know he was failing?

THANK YOU ROOMMATE, YOU CAN GO NOW!!

Co-Worker:
Did you lie to me about you age?

Trent:
Maybe

Co-Worker:
Oh my god, how old are you?

Trent:
24

Me:
You're a 24 year old sophomore? Are you some sort of retarded? 

Co-Worker:
Oh my god! I can't believe you are 24. I can't believe you lied to me!

Trent:
I know, I'm sorry!! It's just that when you said you were 34 I didn't want you to think I was too young for you.

Roommate:
You're not really 34 are you? Wow. You look awful.

Me:
Roommate, fuck off!

Roommate leaves and I look at co-worker to see if she'll do the right thing. Just be upfront and honest with him and explain to him that you're in a bad place with your love life and you wanted to attract a younger man so you took the opportunity and faked your age just like he did! Totally understandable!! You guys could be the next Ashton and Demi!

Co-Worker:
I need to be honest with you Trent...I can't be with someone who lies. I think you need to go.

Trent:
But I...

Co-Worker:
GO!!

So Trent leaves and I look at co-worker and realize, a woman will take her real age to the grave...along with any man who threatens to reveal it.

Miso Hungry

Pre Blog Notes: Thank you to everyone who has wished my grandfather well during his heart attack recovery. I am so grateful for the care he received by my family, the Waltham rescue workers and the Cardiac Care team at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center...so if you are or know any of those people, you have my extreme gratitude for saving someone so special to me. Cheers to Francis J - I'll be home soon to check up on you, until then...keep being the weird one in the house.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Let's just quickly talk about race for a second. I...am not a racist. I...make off colored jokes that people perceive as racist. I would NEVER directly insult someone in a derogatory manner. I will absolutely indirectly insult you. But I think it's good you should understand this before continuing to read because while I will joke about what happened last week, I don't want anyone to feel like I wouldn't make the same jokes about them regardless of their race, ethnicity, skin color or creed. I am an equal opportunity offender.

I try not to come home during the day from work. After several..."surprise" interruptions I quickly realized that Roommate does most of his "studying" during the daylight hours of the workday because he assumes no one will be around to bother him.  To clarify: Studying, is code for my Roommate hooking up with random dudes he met online/abducted from the library or McDonalds. In fact, pretty much everything my roommate says he is going to be doing is code for hooking up. And yes, I have come home during lunch to find Roommate hosting a study group....figure that one out yourself.

Thursday, however, I could not avoid coming home during the day because the day before Tucson had experienced a blizzard of apocalyptic proportion. 3 1/2 inches of SNOW blanketed the city and schools and businesses were forced to shut down. It was so treacherous that I was unable to order delivery because the "safety of the drivers was compromised" this from a city with a daily murder rate of 5 people.

So any who, couldn't get food delivered and couldn't get to my office Wednesday so I had to leave for work Thursday and do some quick food shopping at lunch and drop the groceries off at my apartment. I go to the store and come home...it was later that noon but earlier than two.

I arrive home to no noises, no handcuffs, no electric appliances in the bedroom...just silences.

PHEW! Finally, an afternoon to myself so I can make some sort of decent meal......ummmm Hi?

Sitting on my couch is a scared looking Asian girl. I will guess she was in her twenties but then again, she could have been 6...I can never really tell.

Me:

Hi! Sorry. I didn't see you there. Hope you enjoyed my rapping.

Asian Girl:

Me:

Ooook. Is Roommate here?

Asian Girl:

Me:

Fantastic. You don't speak English.



Asian Girl:

Ok, well I'll just text Roommate and see if perhaps you're lost.

Me:
Hi, are you coming home?

Roommate:
In a bit. I had to run to the library (see: hookup). Why what's up?

Me:
Ummmm, not a whole lot except for the small Asian girl on our couch who doesn't speak English?

Roommate:
Oh, that's Hae Na. She's a correspondent for one of the courses I'm teaching. She's fine.

Me:
So you want me to just leave her on the couch?

Roommate:
Yea, I told her I would be back in an hour.

Me:
Because you obviously know Korean...

I feel bad so I offer her some food...since I don't speak Korean...I simply yell slowly with lots of hand movements.

Me:
AAAAAARRRRRREEEEEEEE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUU? HUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNGRY?







Hae Na:

Just kidding, actually she nodded her head yes so I start preparing some food, admiring myself for learning Korean so easily.

Now, I'm not particularly good with hosting foreign students at my house. In high school, I hosted a Japanese exchange student named Masa who came to live with me for 3 weeks during October of my junior year. We did not see eye to eye (absolutely no racial joke meant there) on anything! I went to the fancy Whole Foods and bought all this food to make him feel at home and all he did was sit in our guest room and play with his futuristic cell phone that turned into a mirror and had little charms hanging from the antenna.

Now, this "exchange" program we had in our school cost these poor kids like $20,000 USD to come to the states for a week and spend their days in a Boston area Catholic school. Come to find out, the school didn't see any of that money; I certainly didn't get a dime for hosting the kid in my house and the teacher who organized it embezzled all the money to open a chain of Darque Tans in Florida. I think Masa decided we really didn't get along when I took him to a Halloween party and made him dress up as Redman while I went as Dirrty X-tina...could have been that.

Cut to 2006 - My dad is away with the Military and I arrive home from a British Music conference to my sister picking me up from the airport with two girls in the car.

Kerri:
This is Julie and Ophelia...they are going to be living with us.

Me:
Why?

Kerri:
Because I rescued them.

Me:
From where?!

My sister was working at a camp and met these two lovely ladies while I was away. Apparently, they were sent to live with a "family" through the program they signed up for and instead ended up staying with a childless 40 year man who removed the doors from his bathroom and used to watch them sleep.
My sister, while Angelina Jolie-esque in her intentions, never told the program that the girls had moved in with us...and we didn't know was that Ophelia...had a tendency to sleepwalk. So 3 weeks into their trip to America and 48 hours into the custody of me and my sister...Ophelia got up in the middle of the night, walked over to the 3rd floor window of our guest room...opened it...and jumped out.  After landing on our concrete driveway she awoke Francis J with a sound that he describes as "cats dying while giving birth". Kerri comes rushing into my room.

Kerri:
SEAN! WAKE UP! OPHELIA IS DEAD!

Me:
What?!

Kerri:
SHE JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW. THE POLICE AND FIRE DEPARTMENTS ARE HERE NOW.

For some reason, and to this day I still don't know how, I fell back to sleep.

Ophelia did NOT die...she broke both of her legs and had to get sent home with lots of questioning from the program because obviously they did not know she was even in our house let alone sleepwalking her way across the U.S.A.

Now, I could say at this point that Hae Na and I formed a bond that would last us years to come because regardless of language barriers, friendship can be forged through the simplest of notions....but it cant.

What I can tell you is that she ate the sandwich I made her and then stared at me writing the beginning of this very blog as Roommate came home.

Roommate:
What the fuck are you doing?

Me:
Giving my 14,390 readers a good laugh on a Wednesday 
Working. What's the matter?

Roommate:
You fed her?

Me:
Umm, yes. She was hungry and I had no idea how long she had been on the couch so I offered her a sandwich.

Roommate:
You weren't supposed to feed her!

Me:
What is she a fucking Gremlin?! Why can't she eat?

Roommate:
Because I was going to take her to Chinatown for a traditional Korean dinner! Ugh, you ruin everything.

Me:
Ok, first off..Tucson doesn't even have an Americantown so I'm not sure where the hell Chinatown is. Second, judging by the fact that she doesn't speak any engrish, I'm thinking she probably had a traditional Korean breakfast THIS MORNING WHEN SHE LEFT KOREA. Third, you left her here for god knows how long!

Roommate:
I had office hours

Me:
Is that what you want to call it!

Hae Na starts to look upset and tells Roommate something and to my surprise...he speaks Korean.

So, to paint this picture...I now have my 6'5 white (maybe) roommate fighting with this 4'9 girl in my apartment...in Korean. To the best of my knowledge the fight went as follows:

Ha Nae storms out of my kitchen without even saying Thank You for the sandwich (in any currency, manners cost nothing) and goes running into the parking lot with Roommate chasing after her and I go to the balcony to watch. Had I had time to pour myself a bottle of wine and make some popcorn I would have because this was some class entertainment.

Roommate comes back in and looks to be upset and tells me that Hae Na will not be staying with us this weekend which was FINE BY ME because he didnt even tell me she was staying with us. I apologize for causing a fight and he replies with....

Roommate:
Well you know what they say 여성은 그들과 살 수 있으며 그없이 살 수

Actually, no I do not know what they say in Korean you freakshow but luckily Siri does so I can translate...according to Siri

Hae Na is a grotsky little byotch.

My Roommate's Sausagefest

I think it’s fair to say I have given Roommate MORE than enough chances to be normal. I mean, I’ve watched his pet, dealt with his MANY MANY MANY bed companions and played host to a slew of homo-dramatic events that many in my position would have cast judgement on. Me? I don’t judge. I blog and let you judge. I can’t judge! I’ve been a part of my share of illicit affairs, permiscous rendezvous and non-intentional arson.  I will say this for the record, Roommate is not a BAD person…he is just fucking weird.  Again, this is coming from the boy called GLITTER and who, on more than one occasion, has gone out in New York City, London, Miami, Moscow, Sydney, Dubai and LA wearing nothing more than shimmer powder and underwear so I am not saying that I am all that normal but this past week…well I think I can say this has never happened in the weirdness of my life.

It all started with a series of text messages between me and roommate.

Me:

Hey, just a heads up, my dad is coming into town next week. He’s staying at a hotel but just so you know.

Roommate:

Oh, well my parents are coming into town this week. They are staying with us.

Me:

No of course it isn’t an inconvenience. I don’t mind at all. They are your family! You didn’t even need to run it by me.

When are they coming?

Roommate:

Thursday (it’s Tuesday) and just so you know I’ll be using the kitchen prepping food for them.

Me:

My god, what did they do to deserve that?!

Sounds great, let me know if you need any help.

So I go about my normal Tuesday and arrive home from the animal shelter where I volunteer around 8pm and OH MY GOD…THERE IS BLOOD EVERYWHERE!! What the fuck happened? Did my roommate try to fuck the blender?! Why is there so much blood and what is that awful smell!?!?! Maybe my friends (shout out to Corey and Dawn!) were right? Maybe Roommate was American Psycho…maybe these were all the guys that rejected him this past weekend!?

Me:

Hello!??! Roommate!? Where are you!?

Roommate:

In the bathroom!

Me:

Umm theres a lot of blood

Roommate:

Yea, I wasn’t expecting that. 

Me:

What exactly are you doing?

Roommate:

Well, my family is from [East Bum Fuck] and this is one of our traditions…my grandparents always cure meat and make sausages from scratch so I thought in honor of their visit I would brine several different meats and make homemade sausage…apparently the meat was still very fresh

Me:

I think the meat was still alive! Don’t you need like certain conditions to dry meat?!  Like a butchers shop?!

Roommate:

No, I read all about it [of course you did because you don’t watch TV] and I just need a place to hang the meat pieces and dry heat which luckily we have plenty of in Arizona…oh, is it OK if we don’t put the AC on for two nights?

Me:

Ummm sure!! My grandparents love martinis but I’m not about to fly to Russia and pick potatoes and make liquor from scratch…but whatever.

Side note: I am an Air Condition addict!! If the outside air is warmer than 50 degrees than I will have the airconditioner on.  So much so that I made a deal with roommate that I would pay the entire electric bill if he let me run the A/C as much as I want. So for me to agree to no A/C in 80 degree weather is a HUGE sacrifice for me…you’re welcome Jesus.

Wednesday 5:53AM

I awake to the stench of what seemed like something they’d find on SVU…the smell was gastly and I couldn’t even Fabreeze it enough for me to fall back asleep. Roommate was NOT doing this right. I bang on his door and of course some random dude answers.

Ranbdom Trick:

Yea, do you mind like flushing or opening a window?

Me:

I’m sorry whore what?!

Random Trick:

Roommate says you’re the one making the smell

Me:

Did he?! Well why don’t you take a little walk with me into roommates bathroom because clearly you haven’t been here long enough to take a look around…does THIS look like it’s me making that smell!?!

Random Trick:

OMG I THINK I’M GOING TO BE SICK

Me:

In more ways than one you stupid slut

Roommate:

What are you doing?! I told you to keep that door closed?!

Me:
Really?! You’re going to keep your bathroom shut for two days while rotting meat festers our apartment? Imma pull a Destinys Child right now and say no no  no no no. This is NOT OK….

Let's examine all the reasons why your jerky making factory failed shall we?

1)You bought a heating fan designed to "dry" these animals when instead you failed to realize that keeping them near any amount of water (i.e. - sink, toilet) and heating them would just STEAM them rather than dry them out....have you ever smelled steamed chicken? Smells like balls right? Have you ever smelled steamed horse? You cannot imagine. 

2) You purchased meat from a random Mexican supermerchado rather than consulting with an actual butcher who would tell you that it takes weeks to properly dehydrate and cure meat sanitarily and efficiently

3) YOU'RE TRYING TO DRY MEAT OUT IN MY FUCKING HOUSE!!!

Wednesday night I arrive home from work and again, what I see does not even make sense. Apparently, whatever animals were hung from their hooves in his shower were the lucky ones...Roommate is hard at work CASING SAUSAGES on my kitchen counter. Just incase you've never had the pleasure of witnessing what making sausage from scratch looks like...




The cases themselves? Condoms. My kitchen is full of ground up animal parts...and condoms. I've never wanted to be a vegetarian more in my life. The noise of the grinder keeps me up all night so I just start watching a marathon of Hostel and Saw movies hoping secretly my Roommate might accidentally fall into his meat grinder...I happily drift to sleep.

Thursday arrives and it occurs to me I didn't ask Roommate how many family members were staying with us. Now, I would NEVER have my friends or family stay with me if I had a roommate...that's just me. So of course I bring it up to Roommate.

Me:
So, forgot to ask...who is coming to stay with us again? Your dad and brother?

Roommate:
My dad, my brother, my step mom and step sister. But don't worry because I will just share a bed.

Sounds fair. I've shared a bed with my sister before...it's fine..again...not judging yet

Roommate:
Yea, so it will just be my brother and step sister sleeping in the living room.

Me:
?????????????????????? You're sharing a bed with your dad and step mom? Ok, now I'm judging. 
You're sharing a bed with your dad and step mom?

Roommate:
Well, I mean yea unless you're offering....

Honestly I didn't know what would be worse, having roommate stay with me or having me stay in a bed with his dad and stepmom...neither offers were on the table.

Me:
Oh, I would but I've been feeling really sick lately and I don't want to get anyone sick. I'll probably just lock myself in my room for the weekend.



Roommate:
Oh no you have to at least meet them. They're so excited to meet you!!

Why? I mean, I know why my friends would want to meet you but just to prove that you're real. The family arrives and I have NEVER seen such a group of unattractiveness in one room. This man and woman had separate spouses and still were able to produce 2 of the most hideous children I've ever seen. It was like The Hills Have Eyes meets The Brady Bunch.

Father:
Oh son, it's awful nice to meet you!

Me:
Ok, please dont ever refer to me as son again. 
Very nice to meet you too!

Step Mom:
Roommate tells us you're one of them there radio disk jockeys...like...what's his name Paw?

Father:
Not sure who ya mean Maw

Step Mom:
The one with that there show on the TV

Me:
Ryan Seacrest?

Step Mom:
Jerry Lewis!




Father:
Oh yea, Jerry Lewis...can't get enough of him. Is that what you do?

Me:
For all intensive purposes because I don't feel like explaining what muscular dystrophy is altho based on the appearance of the step kids I feel like they might know...or maybe that's just fetal alcohol poisoning and bad genes...
I do!! That's me!!

Roommate:
Tammy Lynne I told you not to make a big deal about it. Now let's go, I've prepared a wonderful meal for you all.

Father:
You're staying for supper right Steve?

Me:
Um, It's Sean and sadly noooo I can't. I have a thing to go to and I'll be back really late. I probably won't see you again for the trip but IT WAS SO NICE TO MEET YOU.

Tammy Lynne:
Crystal [no doubt named after Tammy's drug of choice] go get the Kodak out of my purse and let's take a picture with this here radio dj. You're bout the most famous we've ever met!

I really should feel happy about that...but I don't...just sad.

So in walks Crystal with a...no lie...disposable camera. 3/$1 at iParty....winds up after the flash.

Me:
Are you sure you just don't want me to take of you all?

Father:
Nonsense, you get in here. Roommate take a picture so we can get on in and start dinner!

So I left Roommate and family to dine on possibly one of the animals I rescued earlier in the week and I took my ass to the Ritz Carlton until I was sure they had gone. I'm sure my blog would have been more exciting had I bunked it with Tammy Lynne and Paw but sometime tells me I'm better off leaving that episode of Jerry Springer untouched.

As for me, I'll always have the photo.