Drum Roll Please...

And Bucket has mange.  (Don't worry your little pug, she wouldn't get it unless she had a compromised immune system.) Since he is a puppy and recently went through surgery stress the little fucking bastard mites got there hooks in.

I guess it could be worse.  It could itch.  Then again, it could not go away and be an ongoing thing.  So I won't count my chickens.

Just for a little salt in my wound, I found out today that a TOTAL fuck up, an absolutely, unquestionably terrible person is working in a drug rehab center in Hawaii.  Shit never sticks to him and his life just keeps getting better.  He must have been a saint in another life.  I, on the other hand, look up just in time to get shit in my eye.

The love of my life

Brian Kinney is the the love of my life.  He is beautiful and rich and expects nothing. We have a few obstacles to overcome.  The first is that he is an extremely promiscuous homosexual, which I could totally deal with.  The other is that he is fictional. That one is a little harder to overcome.  I will settle for Gale Harold.  If I can't have the real Brian Kinney, I'll settle for his body. 

  


Here are some of my favorite Brian Kinney-isms: 




"I don't want to be with someone who sacrificed their life and called it love... to be with me. "


Melanie (lesbian): You finally grew a heart.
Brian: Maybe you'll have the same luck growing a penis. 


[about their first night at Babylon, so many years ago]
Brian: I thought I looked pretty hot.
Michael: You did look pretty hot... That night I jerked off thinking about you.
Brian: Well, whaddya know. I jerked off thinking about me, too. 


"Whether we see each other next week, next month, never again, it doesn't matter. It's only time."


As you can see from this next quote, we have A LOT in common.  


Detective Carl Horvath: You were right.
Brian Kinney: My three favourite words after 'nine inches cut'. 


And this one too for that matter. 


Brian Kinney: I don't believe in love; I believe in fucking. It's honest, it's efficient. You get in and out with the maximum of pleasure and minimum of bullshit. Love is something straight people tell themselves they're in so they can get laid, and then they end up hurting each other because it was all based on lies to begin with. 

It's like that show on MTV only the opposite

Worst Week Ever.  I have been thinking really hard about it. This may have been the actual worst week of my life.  So far.  Which is terrifying.  So Far.  The idea that out there in my future is a worse week.  I have no doubt it is out there waiting.  I just kept getting kicked when I was down.  If I didn't know better I would swear I have internal bleeding and bruised organs. I have gone two days without vomiting, but as I sit here alone I'm starting to feel nauseous again.  I need to cry, but nothing is making it happen.  My hands are shaking.  I guess now it is just a waiting game, what will happen first tears or puke.

Is there some kind of cosmic misalignment? I need to do some research.  I need an answer to the question, "Why am I at the bottom of the hill, and where the fuck is all this shit coming from?"

When I was a kid I would go with my dad and his friends to this restaurant.  It was owned by a husband and wife duo. She ran everything and she would hostess and he cooked.  Everybody knew them, talked to them.  I ended up living about two blocks from that place for a really long time.  They had sold that restaurant, but opened another in the same shopping center.  She drove a yellow Mustang so there was no mistaking if she was there or not.  As it happened they lived in Kyle's delivery area so he got to know them too.  Through the years I heard different things about them, saw them occasionally, ate at their new restaurant.  Just last week, on a date I was talking about them because this boys sister works at the first  restaurant they opened then sold.  They have always been in the peripheral of my life, for over 15 years, in a lot of little "wow, isn't it a small world" scenarios.  Today they were both found dead in their home, of an apparent murder/suicide.

Fair warning, if anybody needs to prefaces anything they tell me with "I have some bad news..." I'm just going to walk out into traffic.

When all else fails

Vomit.  I'm not sure if yesterday was a psychosomatic sickness, or I ate something, but I started puking at 9am and every hour subsequently.  The longest span of time I went without vomiting was when I was crying uncontrollably.  I was watching Julie&Julia.  I didn't even know what was happening.  I would just look at the screen and start bawling.  I missed the funeral.  I'm heartbroken.  But it was an controllable vomit that made me break out in a sweat.  The kind of prickly heat that means you are about to pass out.  I never did, thankfully, but I couldn't attempt to drive and puke.

I'm just so god damn sick of everything.  I could scream.

It doesn't show signs of stopping

Today they remove life support from great aunt.  She got pneumonia and went into the hospital the day of my grandfather's funeral.  I found out this tidbit from my cousin's facebook post.  I have no idea how she is doing.  I don't want to go to the hospital, because I saw her last on the last day I saw my grandfather.  She was telling me stories about when she was a kid, and her grandson, and her granddogs, and laughing,  and smiling, and going to stay with my aunt so that she could help her force my grandfather into taking his pain pills and eating.  I want that to be the way I remember her.  My dad and I lived with his aunt and uncle when I was growing up.  I was eleven.  During the summer she would take me to her antique shop in a little town. I ran around like it was the fifties.  I would take some change to the gas station and buy candy.  Walk across town to the burger joint.  It was a lot of fun.  I wish I could go back there.  I went to her fiftieth anniversary this summer.

Kyle told me this week that his dad's lymphoma is back.

I'm having a hard time coping.

It's official

I'm on a diet.  I big suck ass diet, that consists of food with vitamins.

Last good meal, Nathan's hot dog at Black Sheep Lodge.

First good for me meal, turkey breast fillet and green beans.  For desert, angel food cake with homemade blueberry sauce- no added sugar.   Survey says, it's really good.  The trick to poultry is to not overcook it.  If I closed my eyes I would think it was pork chop, which is not on my diet.

Let's disguss

I'm going on a date with a boy on Wednesday.  He is an electrician.  We have been on one date.  I was set up by a friend.  I just got the number of another boy who happens to be a carpenter. Again set up by a friend.  If you know a hot plumber send him my way, the four of us could build a house.  Here's thinking, maybe I should become a contractor.  I seem to be meeting all the right people.  Anybody know any sinewy HVAC men.  Come on down.

Here's the kicker, I haven't decided yet whose eyes are prettier, the carpenter's or the electrician's.  It's a very close call.

I keep you updated.

What's better than a drag show?

I drag show for charity.  It was most amusing.  I learned some things.  Like, who knew there was a gay sports bar.  Sports? Really? I can kind of see it.  Giant, bulky muscled men in tight pants.  Most sports have tight pants.  The only sports on the TV in the gay bar were nascar and basketball.  Those are some of the only sports where they don't wear tight pants. The clientele were decidedly butch.   I went with a friend who knew one of the queens performing.  She was a hefty gal.  Real sweet. Her act needed a little bit of work.  She was having some wardrobe issues.  But all in all, it was a really good time.

My Living Will

I realize that in no way is this legal.  I just want a record of what I want that isn't hidden somewhere that is found too late if, god forbid, something were to happen to me.  I don't want anything to happen to me, but sometimes it is best to plan for the worst.  Plus, I really care about this stuff.  So listen up.

• I do NOT want to be kept alive artificially longer than a period of possible recovery.  Pull the plug, put  a pillow over my face, I don't care.  Just don't keep me alive like that.  
• I do NOT want to be embalmed.  
• I would like to be cremated.  Then put in an Eternal Reef.  Buy me the biggest reef I can afford. Put Grubb's ashes in the reef with me, along with any other dogs that have passed.  Put on the plaque "'...the sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonders forever.' -Jacques-Yves Cousteau. Still it holds (My First, Middle, and Last name).  She was loved. " 

As for my belongings:

• My most prized possession goes to Jessica, I know she will take good care of Bucket.  Ideally, Bucket will be long dead by the time I die, but the point of this is you never know. 
• To Corley- All my memories.
• Casey can have my computer and my camera.  
• My friends can have anything they want.  Tammy gets the rest and my money, unless her house is payed off, then split it between my poor friends.  

As for a memorial service:

• I want everyone to tell funny stories about me.  They have to be funny.  No sad shit.  I know nobody can tell a funny story like me, but you will have to try. 
• I want it to be recorded so in case anyone wants to hear the stories later they can.  Just audio is fine.  I don't want a video of people crying. 
• I do NOT want it to be in a church. A park or somewhere outdoors would be ideal, but the weather will dictate that.  I would rather not have it in a funeral home, but I'm not firm on that.
• I do NOT want any Bible verses to be read! Plenty of people have written prettier words.  If something has to be read, choose something I have read and enjoyed.  There is plenty of that too.
• I want Big photos of all my pets. 
• No Flowers! If people want to spend money they can give to French or English Bulldog Rescue.  
• As for the Playlist here are some songs I want played in no specific order:
• Old Before Your Time- Ray LaMontagne
• Roadhouse Girl- Ray LaMontagne
• Long as I can See the Light- CCR
• Midnight Special- CCR
• Good Times- Sam Cooke
• Cool Jerk- The Capitols
• Try Me- James Brown
• Close Your Eyes- Peaches and Herb
• That's How Strong My Love Is- Otis Redding
• Open the Door to Your Heart- Darrell Banks 
• Stand By Me- Ben E. King
• If You Need Me- Solomon Burke
• Turn On Your Love Light- Bobby Bland
• Patches- Clarence Carter
• Just for You- Sam Cooke
• Southern Cross- Crosby Stills and Nash
• Other than that, play what reminds you of me.  I only ask that whatever it is, it better have soul.  

If any of my requests are not met NOBODY GETS ANYTHING!  !!!  AND I WILL HAUNT YOU!!!

Bucket will go to a French Bulldog rescue.  

My computer and camera will go to Out Youth Austin.

All of my money will be split part ways between Out Youth, French Bulldog Rescue, and English Bulldog Rescue.  

I do this because, if nothing else, I know Jessica will fight for Bucket and let everybody know what is what! 

I will hand write this soon and have it signed by two witnesses so that it is legal. 

What a night

At my father's, father's funeral all of my father's exes were in attendance.  His first wife (my brother's mother), his second wife (I call her Tammy), his third wife missed the party, but in her stead was a roommate/girlfriend of my dad's from when I was a kid, his forth wife, and the new girlfriend.

You do not know uncomfortable.  I was sitting at the dad bashing table.  Long story short I had to double fist.  I was really doing good with my two drink limit, but sometimes there is nothing that takes the edge off except one too many beers.  Consequently, I feel like shit today.  Sometimes there is nothing that fixes one too many beers like a cheeseburger and fries and 10 am.

Told you.  If I don't have my dad's smile then you are blind.  Secondly, he was probably 26 in this photo.  We almost have the same haircut.  Funny.

I have a date.  With a boy.  And I'm oddly kind of excited.  I didn't think I would know what it felt like, excitement. I have absolutely no expectations that it will go well, because let's face it, my luck is pretty thin these days.  Since it hasn't been a complete disaster yet, I get to fantasize about all manner of things.  It takes my mind off of ... things I don't want to think about and I have something to look forward to in order to get me through this weekend.

Remember this ...

A few months back I wrote about how I look good after a quick spit shine.  Here is the proof.  

When I look at this picture all I see is my dad's smile.  That big toothy goofy smile.  

Can we talk about my butt in this dress.  I so rarely see my butt from this angle.  It's awesome.  Who knew.

It's so damn cold.

I have to be at the neuter clinic before 8 am.  Did it have to get freezing cold the one day I really really want to sleep in and stay under the covers.  Damn you, February.  This is two years in a row you mightily pissed me off.  You are dead to me.