Deja F-You

I feel like I'm working back there again.

Who woulda thought?

Percocet + 2 Martinis = Weepy Whiny Overdramatic Arman

Me no likey.

Only Makes Sense After Alcohol

This weekend has been a complete f'n bust. I've had zero interaction with people except via text and phone. Which, is probably for the best considering I don't like people seeing me in a weakened state. Yeah, we'll get to my inferiority complex later. And, yes, my back is still killing me. Thanks for asking!

So, there I was, flat on my back on my living room floor watching SATC dvds in anticipation of the movie. June 30th, y'all - can't f'n wait. At any rate, I haven't had ANY alcohol in the past four days so this moment of clarity bullshit is getting hella-annoying.

Tone: Trina's "Pull Over"

Me: Heya sugar. What's up?

ATPTI (Anonymous to Protect The Innocent): I just passed your aparrrrtment - I'm drunk! Is your back betterrrrr? Come with meeee!

Me: Oh yeah? Where you heading? And, no my back isn't feeling better so I'm not leaving my house.

ATPTI: I'm on my way to Operaaaaaaa! OUCH!

Me: What the fuck? Honey, what happened?

ATPTI: I fell. I'm bleeding.

Me: Will you get your drunk ass over here then? You shouldn't be walking around Midtown and we'll put a f'n band-aid on your cut.

ATPTI: It's not bleeding thaaaaat much. I'm going to Operaaaaa!

Me: You said that already. And, umm why?

ATPTI: I couldn't be around (insert ATPTI's BFF) anymore; he was chasing after some guy and he deserves better!

Me: So you decided to walk your drunk ass to Opera?

ATPTI: Yeah, there's a guy there I want to ignooooooooore.

Me: I need more pain pills.

Damn You, X-Men

So, last night I royally fucked up my back. And, no, it wasn't doing anything scandalous regrettably. In a fit of Feng Shui, I asked da' Protege to take a look at a comic book collection I've had since childhood and sell it.

At any rate, they were neatly sitting in my closet on the top shelf. I grabbed the box and lost my grip. Now, I should have just let the box fall to the ground and pick up the pieces after the dust settled. Nah, I figured an angle change here, a slight step there and i could adjust accordingly to CATCH the fuckin' box. Which I did. To the tune of a pinched nerve in the back.

So, Memorial Day Weekend, fucked up back, not gonna make any flights to Chicago. Goddammit.

Right Here, Right Now

(Sigh) I heart me some Ryan Tedder. He speaks to me. This OneRepublic track, "Dreaming Out Loud" pretty much sums up how I feel today (aside from the "Monday" references):



Well hello sir, we live for Monday,
Confident we'll get there someday,
Pushing all the papers to a wealthy man,
Might I say, a beautiful tie you wear,
and how do you find such lovely polka dots and stripes these days?

[bridge]
Break all my thoughts hit the floor,
like I'm makin' the score,
I'm the king of the world,
I'm a popular man
count by zeroes to ten,
if you can't, well I can,
don't let any one wake me

[chorus]
I'm dreamin' out loud,
dreamin' out loud,
and all at once it's so familiar it seems,
I'm dreamin' out loud,
dreamin' out loud,
can't find a puzzle to fit into piece of a part of me

[verse 2]
Curtain calls a sanctuary,
Actors in the cloth, they freak me out,
Mockin' my purpose, in the magazines,
Famous how they make you feel grand,
they're always there to hold your hand,
in times of trouble, they're best of friends

[bridge]
Break all my thoughts hit the floor,
like I'm makin the score,
I'm the king of the world,
I'm a popular man
count by zeroes to ten,
if you can't, well I can,
don't let any one wake me

[chorus]
I'm dreamin' out loud,
dreamin' out loud,
and all at once it's so familiar it seems,
I'm dreamin' out loud,
dreamin' out loud,
can't find a puzzle to fit into piece of a part of me

[bridge]
they don't care what you say
they don't care what you think
all they care, what you do,
long as you're of beat,
take a look at yourself

Storm tries to come and wreck my world,
No, I wont let it
stumbled escape, through anchored drapes, no way to bedding

[chorus]
I'm dreamin' out loud,
dreamin' out loud,
and all at once it's so familiar to see,
I'm dreamin' out loud,
dreamin' out loud,
can't find a puzzle to fit into piece of a part of me

well hello sir we live for Mondays

Theatre Style

So, a Battle Royale is about to go down. To be totally honest, I don't know which side is ultimately going to win, but 90% of the fun is watching the contest itself. And, no I'm not talking about American Idol or Dancing With the Stars. This is more interesting.

I see points of view from all parties involved, but it's out of my hands at this point.

Only thing left to do is throw the theatre style in the microwave and grab a good seat.

Shit's gonna be good, y'all.

Epiphanies

Ok, so in the past few days, I've had not one, but two epiphanies.

The first one is why most fags are so bitter. It's because of four little words: I TOLD YOU SO. In the past few days, things I've said were disregarded and they've come back to haunt in full force. Little bits of advice like "I don't think it's a good idea to do that today" or "bitch, you NEED to go to this birthday party, he has sponsored you for so much for your pageant shit and probably won't sponsor you again cause he took it personal." Yup, mark another one down in the "I Told You So" column and take another step towards the penultimate goal of "Jaded."

And, the next epiphany is in regards to why so many queers are good party planners. I mean, you know it doesn't take ANYTHING for a fag to throw a theme party. Me and BeX put together an American Idols Final party in a matter of a couple of hours. But, that's a sidebar. The reason why we're such good party planners is because we've all been "promoters." Whether it's of events, clubs, bars, magazines, people - we've all had to "promote" something in some way, shape or form. Thus, we know how to put some shit together for people to have a good time.

I guess this is all well and dandy considering my latter epiphany is balanced by the former in so many ways. Ying and Yang, good and evil, "I Told You So" and party planning.

Lunch? Done.

All right, so one of my favorite guilty pleasures is a simple Friday lunch with the boys. Yay, for getting everyone to show.

Ferg's meeting was postponed so he joined. Da' Protege, BeX and his bff and one of my favorite people, Platypus were all there. It was good to make fun of work with the nearest and dearest. I j'adores those bastards.

It's been a long week, y'all. Ashley and Bianca are en route to Texas for Miss USofA Classic and Miss USofA respectively. I'm so nervous for the both of them. Bring it on home, girls, bring it on home.

DC and da' K are on their way to Long Beach Pride and I had to forego my trip in lieu of something really important. I know, I know. I keep saying that. But, f'real guys, it's gonna be sooooo good.

Owwww! F'n Owwwwww!!

So, last night, I decided I wanted my piercings back. Over the past year or so, I've lost both nipple rings to umm, various activities. I happened to have two extra stainless steel hoops that I rediscovered after Feng Shui-ing my apartment a few weeks ago.

I've had these piercings since the day after Danny Tenaglia at Fusion for Bump Wednesdays in 1998 or 1999 (old schoolers, help!). I still remember stumbling to Kolo in L5P the day after and still being drunk, figuring the residual alcohol would numb the pain. Nah, it was the most sobering experience, EVER.

At any rate, the first one went in fairly easy. That is, until it came time to come full circle - OUCH, goddammit, OUCH. Anyone with nipple rings will tell you that even though male nipples are pretty useless, they're sensitive. You drive metal through them and it HURTS.

The second one put up so much resistance that I thought I'd have to get it re-pierced. But, then I thought, ok, it's been about ten years - there's no way in hell it's healed up in a period of seven months? So, against my better judgement, I kept trying. FUCKING A - that shit HUUUUUUUURT. Eventually, I was able to clasp the second hoop and to my surprise, no blood. I was totally shocked. I was expecting to need a transfusion after that shit.

Well, at least I have all five back. I'm balanced again. Well, sorta.

No Rest for the Wicked

It's 2:30 in the morning and I *should* be asleep. Alas, I can not. No, it's not because of drugs or alcohol - fuckers.

Thanks Ferg, BH and Bianca for keeping me level headed. You see, when I told any of them I was scared shitless, they were all, "get over it, you've got work to do." Hee.

They really do know me so well.

Yeah, this is my family and I love each and every fucking one of them.

Details forthcoming.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

Dreams really do come true.

So, umm, what happens next?

Mental Note: Power Off

(Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony")

Me: Hello?

Caller: What are you doing?

Me: Sleeping.

Caller: It's only 1am! Wake UUUUUUUUUP!

Me: No it's not.

Caller: Come and plaaaaaaaay!

Me: G'bye.

(End Call.)

An hour later:

(Simple Tone: Ninja)

New Text Message: Sorry to wake u, 4got u r in Atlanta.

I Hate LA.

Morbid, But Interesting

The other night, sans alcohol, me and E got into a conversation about funerals. I mentioned how it's kind of annoying that the song to remember the dead person by is always this tear jerker that just adds to the melancholy. E and I both decided that our funerals would have a soundtrack (complete with take home jump drive) to make the nearest and dearest chuckle and reminisce on good times.

So, to the nearest and dearest - here's my list of songs I want playing at my funeral. Anyone that tries to say I would have wanted f'n Celine Dion automatically gets haunted.

"My Way," Frank Sinatra (gotta give JK Rowling props for this one - she said it would have been the song playing at Dumbledore's gay funeral)
"It Ends Tonight," All American Rejects (hee - get it?)
"My Happy Ending," Avril Lavigne (hee again)
"Only The Good Die Young," Billy Joel (I know, but use your best judgement)
"I Want You To Want Me," Cheap Trick (Didn't I? Didn't I? Didn't I? Didn't I see you crying?)
"Destination Unknown," Crystal Waters (Apropos)
"Bring Me To Life," Evanescence" (Wishful Thinking)
"Missing," Everything But The Girl (Dedicated to Myself)
"Thanks for the Mmrs," Fall Out Boy (Fitting)
"Crazy," Gnarls Barkley (Something to remember me by)
"Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)," Green Day (for the haters)
"Sweet Escape," Gwen Stefani (ideally speaking)
"Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What A Wonderful World," Israel Kamakawiwo'ole (for the hopefuls)
"Live Forever," Oasis (Hope springs eternal)
"Don't You Forget About Me," Simple Minds (I mean, how could you?)

Yeah, I know. It's a bit twisted, but hey, I said at the very beginning that it was morbid, but interesting.

F'Real?

I don't get people. As in "at all."

Yeah, I know. That's nothing new.

Last night, I had the pleasure of crossing paths with a self-loathing 'mo. Most of the time, these people fascinate me. Perhaps, it's the bubble i've built for myself where I'm immune to homophobia. And, before any of you start - my life is pretty much that. I work for a gay owned and operated business. I live a block from 10th and Piedmont, Atlanta's queerest intersection. Yeah, as a society we're heading in the right direction and I'm riding that f'n wave like a bandit.

But, I digress, self-hateration was all up in the dancery and I was less than thrilled. At some point, his drunk ass was just spouting random portions of a sentence, but lacking the cohesive force to make a list of words INTO a sentence. I just calmly looked at him and said "Jar Jar Binks, you wanna ease off the haiku talk?"

He got all kinds of upset. It was explained to me later that my reference of Jar Jar Binks (the GAYest character in Sci-Fi apparently) sent him over the edge. Ok, I realize there's a lot to that equation, but I'll try to keep it to the basics. First off, I called him Jar Jar cause of the manner in which he was speaking, not because of the earrings or fruity talk. Second of all, Dude, you're in a fucking gay bar, get used to the lingo and the quips. It's what we do as a HOBBY. Third, yeah sucking dick and making out with guys pretty much makes you a 'mo. Book the tanning booth and buy the gym membership, you're already there.

Ok, so highlights of this past week:


Starting travel plans to be here.

And here.

And on a few of these dates.

Oh, and I'm still getting yelled at for missing my flight for this.

Sorry boys, I'll so be there next year.