Nothing

I have accomplished absolutely nothing today. I woke up thanks to numerous phone calls from my mother. Umm, it's a Sunday, I work at a club; we don't close until 3am and I don't get out of there until sometimes 5am or later. I love you too, but if I don't get off this phone I'll accidentally cuss you out.

I orderd Pizza Hut and destroyed the 20 wings that came with it. Only one slice is missing from the actual pizza. (Shrug) I wanted to hang with JD and the Ferg, but they were over at the "B." Yeah, not trying to get sucked into that drama today; I'll be right here at home watching TV. Thanks.

Seems the entire staff is pretty annihilated too. E and M weren't doing shit today either. The big K has only called once and Big Daddy has only texted me once, well, twice to find out which porn stars are coming in on Thursday. I seriously need to get him banned or at the very least keep him away from the talent until after they perform. He is the Managing Partner though, so I don't think I'll be able to execute that memo.

Most Interesting Moment of Last Week: Having to play my role as Referee and sitting in on the Big K terminating the loud ass J. Punk ass.

Most Interesting Realization: I like Joe Gauthreaux now. He worked it out on Saturday and even played "Big Love." (swoon.)

Oddest Thing To Come Out of my Mouth: "Umm Big Daddy, exactly how did you know Jesus was in the dressing room?"

Yes, Jesus was in the dressing room (ask Genre), Big Daddy did see him but the real inquiry is how did the man who never goes back in the dressing room all of a sudden find himself back there on Thursday? Oh yeah, Thursday is College Boys Gone Wild night with guest porn stars each week. And, they have to change before going on stage... so they use the dressing room... I'm just saying.

All right, I need to go do more nothing and have some chocolate cake while I'm at it.

Wants and Needs

I want some time off; I need a vacation.
I want to take a nap; I need a good night's sleep.
I want a facial; I need a haircut.
I want a Mini-Cooper; I need to get me car serviced.
I want to throw me Strawberry out the window; I need to charge it.
I want to be done with Pride; I need to get the rest of the flights and hotel rooms booked.
I want to slap the shit out of some people; I need to keep smiling and nodding me head.

Class of 94

So, in an odd twist of fate, i ended up looking up my high school graduating class on MySpace. This was sparked by a surprise MySpace message from an old friend, Jennifer. She started dating me best friend, James our junior year of high school if i recall correctly. So, naturally, I looked up:
-Florida
-Ocala (which ironically is the homebase of my employing company, Taylor, Bean and Whitaker)
-Lake Weir High
-Graduating Class: 1994

Needless to say, I was fairly disappointed at how, well, suburban everybody turned out to be. Married, Children, boring, click. I did locate one "Bi-Sexual," three "Lesbians," and a couple of questionable "No Answers" in the Orientation department. There was one gay, but to be honest I couldn't remember him from Adam.

I did locate someone I knew pretty well from back in the day and pulled up his page just for a look. Yup, married with kids. But, wait a minute, why do the majority of his pictures have a mysterious "friend" with him? Even better, why does he have three male country singers (pretty f'n hot ones too) in his pictures section? Yes class, say it with me: "Denial."

I never filled out the extra function of putting in what school you graduated from and when, but I think I may just go ahead and do that. I mean, why not know that someone you went to high school turned out to be a relatively succesful, fashion forward, quick witted fag? I mean, aren't we supposed to be so chic now a days?

I mean what's the big deal anyway? I barely remember the mid 90's from all the fried brain cells. What's the chance any of these people remember me? Even if they do, what are they going to do, come all the way up to Atlanta just to deliver a hate crime?

Yeah, I'm definitely going to add myself to the alumni database. Afterall, who knows how many closeted freaks I may just inspire to break down that proverbial closet door. It's not so bad being yourself. No, seriously.

The Art of "I Told You So"

There's no better feeling than being right about something. I take that back, there is a better feeling. It's when you're right about something, someone vetoes you and at the end of the day, you were right and you never say "I Told You So."

It's TOO easy to just say it. It's best served with a smug look on your face and whistling an indistinctive tune. And then, they say "go ahead and say it." Oh no bitches, this is not a band-aid and will not be ripped off with a quick motion. This moment of time will be brought back if and only if you choose to ever doubt me again.

Yes, I bring back ol' shit. Yes, I keep it in me back pocket. Yes, I will gladly slap you in the face with it.

It's an art form and only gets better with time.

Aww, Shoot

So, I've only been partially caught up in the VA Tech mass murder. I've seen it on the plasma screens at the bank, on little news reels on the internet, but to be honest, I tend to tune out the news anyway. It bugs me. And, it's so depressing.

At any rate, with every bit of news I would catch, I would think about the friends and families of those students. My heart truly goes out to them.

But, here's how fucked up I am:

I just knew at the core of this tragedy would be another crazy ass white boy that was cast away by society for being different or listening to too much Eminem or Marilyn Manson or playing his Ozzy albums backwards or something.

Low and behold, the killer turned out to be Asian.

Whoa.

We're capable of mass murder outside of video games and kung fu movies? Who woulda thought?

I'm in HELL

I have discovered my own personal hell. I am sitting here with NO VOICE. I'm like Hello Kitty - she has no mouth so you know she can't say shit. I can 't say anything lounder than a whisper. I've been texting my friends all day. I had to order food and supplies through Zifty online. I've had to send everyone that has called me directly to voicemail.

I should have seen it coming; I've been sleeping every moment I possibly could all week. I've been sluggish, moody and hot/cold flashy for the past couple of days. Luckily, others that I have been around with the same symptoms recovered quickly so I'm assuming I should bw back to my loud mouthed ass in a day or so.

Talk atcha' later. Literally and figuratively.

RSVP

All right, one of the people I respect the most has moved back to Atlanta from New York and I have yet to see him check out me new digs. So, I'm calling out TRAYB and his wonderful husband right now. I insist you two be my guests to the Tracy Young event this Saturday. Your names will be at the Fountain Club door as well as a supply of drink tickets. No excuses.

All Up In the Ear...

So, JD got me the pimped out iPod Nano for me bday and for some reason it always interests me to see what my Most Played songs are. So, just so y'all know what's been in my head for the past couple of weeks, here's the run down:

1. "It's All True," Tracey Thorn
2. "Raise the Roof," Tracey Thorn
3. "Suddenly I See," KT Tunstall (it's from Devil Wears Prada)
4. "It Ends Tonight," All American Rejects
5. "Say It Right," Nelly Furtado
6. "How to be Dead," Snow Patrol
7. "Am I Here Yet (Return to Sender)," Billie Myers
8. "They Say Vision (Robbie Rivera Mix)," Res
9. "Babylon," David Gray
10. "Made," Jamie Scott (it's from the Step Up Soundtrack)

And, yes the Tracey Thorn album is fucking brilliant. At time it reminds me of Dido and Annie Lennox, during others it reminds me of Walking Wounded - EBTG's best album. At any rate, my two favorite songs clearly blast everything else in me Top 10 to bits in sheer volume of times played.

What Happened to March?

So, March has come and gone in like a tortoise and out like a cheetah. What the fuck? How in the hell did I lose 31 days? I sort of remember my birthday - yeah, let's talk about Billie Myers singing "Happy Birthday" Marilyn Monroe style to me on WETbar's stage. I was petrified. Not this mega talented pop star (with a fucking number one on Billboard to boot) was singing to me, on bended knee. Umm, huh? Is this f'real happening? Yeah, people have pictures - or evidence - of it all.


Luckily, April looks to be a little bit more tame than March, Lord knows I about killed the staff with all the shit I planned. It seems the hard work is paying off as the club has shown that it has the potential to make money. Yay for job security.

I am also pleased to say that my two mentors - Brad Williams and Bill Kaelin have called to tell me that they're proud of me and they support everything I'm doing. This has been an unsettling source of stress for months now. It's not that I needed their validation, but truthfully no job is worth these two looking negatively upon me. After all, I wouldn't have the career I'm enjoying now without the guidance of these two dapper gentlemen.

Socially, I feel like I only have time to hang with folks during work hours. It's kind of a shame considering my career used to be based on how many different establishments I can hit in a single weekend. I'm not really complaining considering I adore everyone I work with - well, almost everyone there are two that i would have no qualms assasinating. But, that's another blog for another day. For now, I'm hitting the couch for some serious remote control fondling.

Oh, before I forget, a few words for the nearest and dearest:

Tyler, you're coming for Pride, girl. Watch and see - I need you here.

Fergie, you're the jam, you know that right?

JD, Thanks for being such a good homicidal friend - you've taught me how to authoratatively hold my ground, death threats withstanding.

Selman, thanks for popping in; I didn't realize how much I missed ya' until you unexpectedly crashed Oakenfold. I'm almost over being bitter at ya.

Kimbus Crawfordus, Genre, Bianca and Ash - thanks for keeping me sane and being there during crunch time.

Krystee and Big Daddy, quit stressing me the fuck out.

That's all.