Ok.
Most of you know me, most of you wish you could know me, and a few wish you were me.

You know those situations you are forced into.  You walk in smiling, hugging, running straight (or gayly) to the bar to fill up.

Doing things for others like complimenting their obvious new hair cut but in truth you aren't sure if it is not just the result of them being run over by a bushhog.

I abhor these scenarios. 
Not only am I internally wailing like a child going to get injections by giant, smelly, moley Helga the school nurse, but outwardly i begin to get a twitch in my left eye.
This is stopped by copious amounts of fermented vegetables. 

This most recent bout of public intoxicated homosexual occurred at my employers 50th birthday party.

However, upon arriving to work my boss looks at me and says, "Do you remember what you said to me Saturday night?"
O Shit!
What did I say?
What?
Think J think!
"Which thing?"

PAUSE
Insert: I almost forgot PP got hit on by our waiter.  David/Danny/Darren I don't remember we just called him Jesus. 

RESUME

"Which thing?"
"When I told you to watch your man that he was being flirted with," she replied slowly
*Blank*. (As a result of my love of gin I sometimes lose bits of my life.  I assume they are useless anyway.)
"No I can't recall." I coolly reply.
"You said, 'O Boss lady, people of this generation don't have twosomes anymore.  It is ALL about threesomes and foursomes.'"
Now her tone was mildly accusatory.  Normally I would have just shrugged and said, "so?"
This time I laughed and flippantly acted as though it was a joke.

I do not need my geriatric pay checks thinking I'm a ho.
Yes you could argue it is the truth but that would get you a punch in the throat.
Florida is a fire at will state. I do not wish to be unemployed for my loose ness of lip or leg.
Conclusively I will no longer imbibe around my coworkers/bosses.
Which correlatively means no obligatory situations.
Coincidentally means I need lots of excuses to get out of all upcoming awkward moments.

Yay for J.
Also I was proud my man got hit on.  It boosts his ego and makes me proud he is on my arm.  I think he's sexy so I never understood those jealous controlling people that want their partner in a sealed container.  I want him seen, flirted with, teased, and titillated.  It just means he goes home with me and takes his pent up aggression on me.
And if we both like and agree to have a slumber party.  Well fuck me running, I am a sane (debatable) adult.  Bring on the hair braiding and extra sets of limbs.

How do your sensibilities/"morals"/insecurities handle a dog sniffing around your fire hydrant, readers?

Glitter up bitches.  Halloween is coming!

Pimping out your friends-
Single friends are the best entertainment ever.  It is free and who doesn't enjoy a laugh at others' expense?
While out with a friend that is single offer them up as bait to any and all guys.  Especially disturbingly unattractive or violently sexy men.
Loudly and obnoxiously say things like, "you like his butt?". "He's totally In your league.". "Yeah he is your type."  If hideous it's a great giggle at the awkward ness.  If sexy you can live vicariously.
Either way who isn't having a great time watching your friend or the guy squirm.

Nerd 101:
Being a nerd is like being a computer.  Or better yet Wikipedia!  Store useless knowledge in your brain and then wow everyone with it whenever.  Great at parties.  If you don't know, use large words like sternocleidomastoid, buccinators, Gregorian, avaricious, etc.
Once you gain a reputation of ridiculous nerd ability people believe whatever you say because, Wikipedia is never wrong, right?

Foodies:
These people are fucked up!  How can it be healthy to savor every single bite of food.  Then, once said food is consumed they immediately begin discussing the next meal and how they wish to ingest something else!  WTF?! 
I am of the philosophy eat to live NOT live to eat.  Food is fuel.  Period.
Savor sex.  Savor sunsets.  Savor memories.  But for your waist's sake do not savor flavors, sugars, or sustenance.

That being said, don't fudge with my sauce.  
I love me some condiments!  I think without sauce I would die.  A mustard sammich is filling, delicious, and Low in calories!  Hell yeah.

Wal-mart is evil but they do everything else the bastards should at least offer plastic surgery at a discount price.  Boob job with your wic card?
Liposuction with your food stamps.  Come on.  You've all been to www.peopleofwalmart.com.  They could TOTALLY make bank.

Vegetarians have far worse flatulence than omnivores.  I'm not sure why this is.  I personally think it is because we are compost heaps and consume as much roughage and fiber as elephants.  All I know is I can clear an entire house if I wanted to.

I know this was as coherent as a toothless Nairobi an with a lisp.  However, you liked it.  It had more substance than that jersey shore shit you are all addicted to.  Or Sarah Jessica parker being a tacky whore.
You bitches eat that shit up like it will save your souls from zombies.

Anyway fellow Glitterati,
I'm off like a stripper's shirt.
Until next time.  And remember I love to hear from you.

Any requests or topics I may have over looked let me know!

A person so different from your you-ness they were the anti-you?

No matter what you thought they think the contrary is better?

This is Peter Pan and I. 

The kryptonite to my superman.
The joker to my batman.
The eruption to my Vesuvius.

Since this is my blog I am the protagonist, which means you root for me.
He being my antithesis is the antagonist, thus you "boo" him. 
Got it?  Good!

I love him.  I love him like fat people love food.  Like ugly people love sex with the lights off.  I cannot imagine a day that I don't want to share with him how dull and mundane my day was.

That being said.

I also loathe him.  I loathe him like mouth breathers loathe books.  Like HBO loathes TV series with more plot than sex.  I cannot imagine a day where I don't wish to plant m-80's in his orifices and watching him pop.

The very reasons for both dual emotions are as follows:

Love him for being a limitless well of talent- any instrument, paint, draw, sculpt, sing... All art is his bitch.
Hate him for needing constant affirmations that he is talented.

Love him for being a child-spontaneous, silly, happy go lucky, genuine, lover of anything marked for 3+.
Hate him for needing a parent (me), never planning ahead, naivety, lost in his field of daisies, avoidance of thought provoking anything.

Love him for wanting something to love him, need to help others, want to be liked, big ambition.
Hate him for keeping a petting zoo, putting others before himself or me, need to please others, never finishing anything.

I think you all grasp the tip of this iceberg.

True story I came home the other day from work:  no greeting of dogs.  Hmmm where are they?  O locked in the bedroom!
"Honey why did you lock all the dogs in the bedroom?"

"O I don't know what happened but I couldn't get the door open so I left."

"Did you walk them before locking them securely in our room?"

"No I forgot."

"How long have we had dogs?"

"6 Years?"

"Yes.
And how many times do they potty a day?"

"Three or four times?"

"Correct!
Why is today any different?"

You see this conversation was going no where fast.
This is what I'm talking about.  Every day is a new "adventure" of how can we make today suck?  Or what random non normal human behavior can I exhibit today.  Or my favorite lets make J scream into a pillow and bloody his face on a door frame.

I am reason and logic. He is chaos and pandemonium.

I am discipline and tried and true.  He is wanderlust and road not made yet.

I am planning and forethought.  He is look at the right now and ram the wall don't try the door.

I am not sure of the point of this anymore because I have been multitasking with this and my big goober man-child husband.  I do know he often suggests we adopt.  I firmly explain I already have.  He has yet to buy a clue. 

Maybe one day we can come together on a level of sameness but for now I know how I will die.  By driving my car off a ledge after dealing with my husband who has been on Craigslist all day looking at puppies because one of our current dogs is getting old.

I should have known better.  The nerd never dates the homecoming queen.  It goes against nature.

~Glitter~

Any of you love to hate your spouses?

I am so excited I just read how the Glbt community is glitter bombing!!

Let me try that again, GLI TTER BOMB ING!!!!

How fabulous is that?!?  I am stocking up.  There is a sale at Michaels.

Apparently how this works, is the good rainbow brights  of the world blast hateful haters and angry aggressors with... (Ready for it?!). GLITTER!

LOVE IT!  Have you ever tried to rid your body of glitter?

I sublet my apartment once, to a kooky yet fun gal.  She, getting ready for  homo church (drag show), poured glitter all over her clothes/body/hair/my bathroom.  I only got a very small amount of my deposit back due to they had to just burn that bitch and start over.  Glitter is forever there.  It was totally worth it.  She looked amazing that night. 

So to glitter these emotionally sad creatures not only brightens their drab  demeanor but also their outfit.  It will remind them, 7 years later when they are told by a loved one about the small speck of iridescent fabulous ness adorning their cheek, it will remind them of the day a fairy gave them the joy of glitter.

So go out into the world and have a pocket of tiny shimmery exuberance ready to make someone's life more colorful.

Also for a less messy approach; bubbles.
When you want to make that negative Nancy at work cease her thunder cloud of doom and gloom.  Blow bubbles all in her face and hair.  If she doesn't smile and laugh with the reckless abandon of youth immediately, continue pelting her until she does.  She soon will be your best friend.  You may thank me when she hugs you and tells you how you saved her from a lonely life of depression and 14 litter boxes.
She smiling more will attract a mate finally, and after copulation which leads to conception she will name her first born after you.
  For you, on that fateful day, forced her to see that life is never that serious and she being a killjoy ruined everything around her.  She will probably even become an indentured servant in gratitude.

You are welcome.

GLITTER AND BUBBLES

Where to begin?
Hurricane Irene, the highlights;
We were relatively unscathed here on the east coast of America's penis.
Hubby was panic stricken for the entire week leading up to this highly anticlimactic blow hard.
Due to his over reactive nature we rushed out to the walmarts and fought other crazy people for water and canned food.
Stock piled with supplies enough for 10 people, 40 dogs, and 20 birds we went on with our lives as normal considering "GOD" hated new York for passing gay marriage far more than all of the poor old people down here in Florida or as we like to call it, "Heaven's lobby," wanting/waiting to die.

On the train of same sex marriage:
I am gay (in case you missed that) I have also been in a committed relationship for 6 years (mostly).  I have not needed anyone giving me a piece of paper stating my feelings for the man I love.  Now I agree we are human and thus should be awarded the same rights as others but that's just it.  I don't want marriage because 9 times out of 10 it is malarkey.  So breeders keep your delusional commitments and vows in front of your god cause honestly it don't mean jack.
(I could say more but honestly don't care.)

We watched 127 hours.  If you have not seen this, well you probably should.  IF only to realize what we as humans are capable of.  Also you probably shouldn't because if you are like me you will be scared and not go check the mail without leaving a note and packing for a 3 month camping trip in the Himalayas.
I was so thirsty and cramping throughout the entire 97 minutes.  I know I took a poo just for poor James Franco out of pity. 
Which by the way, sexy at some angles and regular Joe hobo at others... Definitely lights off sex just to keep it all kosher.
This movie also made me contemplate if I were in this scenario what would I do?  Well I sure as shit would not carve through my arm with a dull pocket knife/pliers combo.  I would more than likely trip from dehydration as he did only resulting in me thinking my arm was a veggie burger.  Or conning some animals into just eating me thus keeping the circle of life going strong.
So with that train choo chooing down the tracks what if I were a paraplegic.  Well I would eat a pharmacy so as not to be anyone's burden.  I know I would not want the burden of someone else.
Which brings me around to another point.  I am not now nor will I ever be altruistic.  For that matter neither are you.  People who lie to others and themselves saying that they are, well they shatter the mortal coil.
Mothers may be for their children but even then its iffy.  So stop pretending we should all look out for one another and give up our happiness selflessly for another.  Its bullshit, Freeze dried to be exact.  No one is that unselfish. We are suppose to be it is what has kept us Alive as a species.  Other animals too. 

I know this is a comprehensive load of kangaroo dung but I had so much on my list to release I had to compile some.  So welcome to the wild world of wacko jacko.

If you have any questions, comments, prayers, or rants leave below.  Please it's fun.
Also if I should elaborate on any points let me know and I will do just that.
Going to wake the Peter Pan and start the day.

*Jazz hands and glitter~

I am here today to promote a delightful business that has helped me out of plenty a bind.  (Three times total).

You see my lascivious readers Peter Pan and I currently have only one vehicle.  "What happened to my Subaru," you ask?
Well dolls and dildoes,
  She did not make the trip over the mountains and through Georgia to Florida unscathed. 
One evening after a particularly late day of work.  I attempted a good deed and offered to take not only myself and two dogs home but a coworker and his dog home on the way.  This is that story and why I never do good deeds.

Getting in my Yertle the turtle we buckled and began.  Pulling up to the first of several stops something felt amiss.  Hmmm.  Stopping seemed more difficult than normal.  O well.

Stop sign two came and well went minus the stopping.  Yes.  My brake pedal even when flattened to the floor had no effect whatsoever on the hindering of my green wagons ceasement of movement.  Luckily I am adept at running stop signs on a good day. 

Red lights and stationary objects in my path now proved a bit problematic.  My passenger expresses his concerns.  "Bleepety bleep bleep #$&($$)&•;\K%$:"'Nc".

Thankfully for all Involved I am quick witted and amazing.

  To slow us, I would pop the speeding hunk of metal into neutral then hastily jerk the emergency brake to further slow my momentum and then shove the car in park to finalize the non movement.

This worked all the way to coworker house (he never wished to ride with me again even in other cars) then on to my house. 
Total of 16 miles and 20 stops. 
Pulling into the carport well she moves no more. 
This was in the winter sometime.
Yes i should have fixed it.  Yes i realize you are judging.  No i don't care.  I hate grease under my nails and i HATE to pay someone for something i know how to do.  So as you can understand I'm in a catch 22. 

With just the white 4 door jeep Rubicon islander edition between us there are times when i need transportation home.  At these times i call klub kar!

This is a versatile service of down to earth people behind the wheel of a busted up Astro van.  They will share their cigarette smoke, body odor, bad dress sense, or horrible story all for $9 one way trip.  Complete with awkward silences and bad radio stations.

Yet i still love that day or night you call and within 20 minutes a chariot of redneck is upon your doorstep at your beck and call.  Thank you klub kar.  Thank you for being there when my husband cannot.  Also thanks for the itch that resulted in a doctor visit and a subsequent amoxicillin prescription. 
Just kidding.
Sorta.
I am not for sure it came from the ride.
Of course it is on my arm.  Which was on your arm rest. 
However I do touch that arm to all sorts of non sterile surfaces daily.
No really it couldn't have been you.
I'll just carry hand sanitizers from now on.
No its not you, its me.

So feel free if you are aching for a new friend and a ride, kall klub kar.  Remember KKK.

Glitter and rainbows

I got my first hater!!!!

*snoopy dance of jubilation*

That's right y'all yours truly is officially a bona fide celebrity! 
You hate me, you really hate me!

Apparantly I am a hate pandering judgmental mother trucker with bigotry and hypocrisy as hobbies.

I'd like to thank my friends, my family, and my adoring fans for making all my dreams come true!  I feel like Liza, when she was younger and less drunk...well maybe just younger.

Seriously though all kidding aside.  This person's comments ALMOST left a sour taste in my mouth, almost.  The only reason they didn't is because
I DO NOT TAKE MYSELF SERIOUSLY MUCH LESS OTHERS!

According to sosadforyou
I hate fat, ugly people and am just a bigot, haterade chugging loony toon in need  of love and prayer.  Neato

I don't hate obesity.  I feel bad for it.  Unlike other addictions such as smoking if you don't want to smoke never buy cigs.  But we have to eat so foodies are fucked.  And unattractiveness is your parents fault they obviously should not have bred.

Do I hate these poor unfortunate souls?!?!

NO!  I enjoy them (as long as they are fun) hang out with them (because they make me look skinnier and prettier).

The world needs all kinds to make it interesting.  If everyone was exactly like me, well sure we would all be 99.989% perfect, beautiful, highly intelligent, and mouth breather free but where is the fun in that?  I don't like to just play with my self I want to play with other people.  People with different backgrounds and better toys. 

Therefore get to truly know someone before passing flash judgments.  I know I don't.  That's why you should, so you can TRULY be better than them while you look down at them and pray for their souls.

K?!
K.

LOVE you so much,
~J~

Glitter
 

Actually it wasn't bad at all.  In fact it was rice with no sauce bland.  Meeting my mother for the first time in right at 6 years well I was no more satisfied nor disgruntled than previously.  We were cordial, she stayed away from any topic that would send me into a rage. I did my best to not blatantly ogle every male in trunks on the beach.   My sister was a great buffer.  They met hubby and my mother acted scared as though he would give her the gay or the AIDS.  She even jumped when he shook her hand.  So 8 hours with mom and sis after so long I learned this:
•I'm really REALLY gay.
•I have style and fashion by divine will alone
•Thankfully I lost my accent
•I am obviously the pretty one of the family (my sis a close second)
•Blood is merely blue/red fluid not the tie that binds
•The family we make can be far more influential than the one you climbed out of
•Bionic men are not superior

That last one you may be confused on.
Well apparently my stepfather (paternal figure numero tres/quarto not sure) is half manikin.  His right arm and leg respectively.  Made by Mattel I believe.  No, I asked, he is not equipped with attachments like a swiss army knife.  No there is not excess strength or lasers.  In fact it's pretty lame. No added stuff. My shit would be spider web equipped or something. Hell a laser pointer to fuck with people would even be fun.  Yet nada.
It also brought up memories I had forgotten (blogs later).
People I haven't seen in years (every one is fat now but me).
Not to mention a sense of closure on this half decade Hatfield-McCoy feud. 
Although still über (I love that my phone does umlauts) conservative, bigoted, racist, and religious they possibly have potential to be a part of my life again.  We shall see. The sad part is I have gone this long without I am jaded folks.  I need lots of reassurances.  
So even though this post isn't the drama filled gloves off duel I thought I would have to write about. It is roughly the truth. (I lied about not ogling guys... Wet swimming trunks on a man is what heaven is made of)

Homo out!
I'll try and not be gone so long this next time.  Unfortunately I am busy with fagnum and work.

That being said please sign my petition to make me a house homo so I may start my book and Pursue all my writing endeavors.  Do so by liking this or commenting.
  In fact I encourage this on any, all, and every post.  Please tell me how I am doing!  I aim to please

~GLITTER~ 

So my ravenous 'ros and 'mos I have a confession to make. I'm nervous.  I'm not talking going on stage for the opening night of wicked nervous.  This is, you have a weird nipple and are going in front of the inquisition judges nervous.
I have not been in the same town as my mother in ± 6 years much less the same space.  This will be rectified on Monday.  She has asked if we could meet up.  She is driving down to my town from Tennessee.  The older female version of myself, the woman who birthed me, single handedly raised me, and then due to our overly aggressive sense of pride cut me off on account that we both share a love of male genitalia is coming here.
I do not know why.  I do not know what.  At this point I barely know when.  I did such a fabulous job pretending that they (my family) were  lost in the jungles of south American and/or eaten by rabid howler monkeys and accepted not being involved or seeing them again was okay.
Now here we are going to try again.  I already promised myself I would call her cunt  mom and mean it. 
Don't get me wrong we were tight all up until I was 18 and my closet got too small for my "bigness" (not that it wasn't a screen door I was behind anyway).  Learning that I would not be a doctor/lawyer/senator.  Not bear her grand babies.  Not be a Baptist preacher.  And not back down a smidge on any of these "minor" issues did not sit well.  Thus our half a decade inability to communicate much less coexist.  If you know me personally then this is just redundant but bear with me.  I am dry, bitter, bitchy, southern, and genuinely lack a filter between my brain and my oral orifice.  When this woman gets around she also having these assets we tend to leave fall-out a state wide.
I love her she made me, hell everyone should love her just on that fact.  However, she taught me if you don't stand for something you will fall for anything.  And by evolution I fall enough just walking.
Meeting on neutral ground may be good for us though.  You see when I burst forth from my glass cased closet I did it with a pink lamé leotard and jazz hands.  I never do anything half assed.  Tattoos, piercing, makeup, long hair these are all things not so much on the positive side, in her eyes, that I started doing once released from my shackles.  When backed in to a corner about counteracting these due to their abominate nature well I came out clawing and hissing like the southern belle bitch I am.  Both of us wounded and neither willing to give ground I never went back.  Until now.  I am not sure if it's due to all the media mogul homos, she sees how ignorant her views are or she has licked her wounds and wants round two.  Or my personal hope, she misses me as much as I miss her and she now knows I am right.
More people should come to this conclusion.  We shall see.  I was a terrible mommas boy but no body is going to tell me how to live *3 finger snaps*. Hell nah!

Side note; not seeing my mother and sister since jordache was 13 (now 19).  I must look my best.  At this moment I have dead ends, gray hairs, and a frazzled bang (on account I over flat iron).  Hubby doesn't know it but he will be fixing all of this Sunday.  Plus re application of my pretty blue feathers.  Yea I'm cliche.  Don't judge me.

Hopefully, this will all go well but since I'm a glass empty guy (normally because I just downed its contents) I am not expecting anything new. 

However I have been surprised before. 

~GLITTER~

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