Monkeys and Goobers - Probably NSFW

You think your family is strange? Arguing and getting drunk is just the normal family way of saying I tolerate you for the holidays. That doesn’t make your family crazy. I’m going to be realistic. I don’t think my family is crazy. I think they are gross.

I spent the holidays with my family hearing stories about monkeys and goobers. Sound silly? Well maybe it is. Here is a story example: Apparently sometime recently my ten year old cousin was playing a game of Would You Rather with my mom, grandmother, and aunt. This is just a fun little car game to pass the time and keep the kid occupied. So the question comes up “Would you rather kiss a monkey or….” Nobody can quite remember the end of it because my grandmother and aunt get so “tickled” they can’t stop laughing. You see, my grandmother is from Alabama and when she was growing up they used different words for things they didn’t want to say. She then used some of those same words when raising her own children. So basically my ten year old cousin asked my mother “Would you rather kiss a vagina or……” and that is all they remember. Monkeys have such soft lips. So we went on talking about monkeys and their male counterpart “goobers” for a while. My mother mentioned the horror she felt of people saying they hacked up a goober from their throat.

Well anyway, then my grandmother is trying to tell me and my mother that bathing is better for your monkey as opposed to showering. Some hundred year old doctor told my grandmother that bathing is better for “cleaning her out”. I’m sorry but if your monkey is sucking up water like a straw, something is wrong. I mean, it might be a cool party trick but grandma doesn’t have the aim she used to.

I apologize. That was disturbing. Sharing with you all has become my therapy so you will have to experience the pain too. There were many other stories along these lines including my grandmother asking very seriously as I put on my bra if I got a boob job. (Side note: Why does everyone ask this? I mean, if I were spending money on my chest I would have gone MUCH bigger.) Oh, I was sharing a hotel room with mom and grandma. That is why my grandmother was witnessing me put on my bra. She then became abusively insistent that my mom needs an “Oprah Bra”. WTF is an “Oprah Bra?” If grandma said it I probably don’t need to know. She also mentioned at random that my now dead grandfather “ripped her crack”. AGH! Holy Broken Butt Cheeks Grandma! Keep those sexy tidbits to yourself!

Perhaps I should stop now. I have so much more to share but I won’t do that to you ya little goobers. Just remember this holiday season that it’s important to share and reminisce with your family. Get personal. Really get to know the ones you love. A disturbed and perverted family is a happy family. I love them all. Bottoms Up!

Covered in Welts

It has been an entertaining week thus far. I don’t remember Monday at all so I assume I had an amazing time. Tuesday night my office held a seminar for wealthy weird old people so that they might save money on taxes. A lot of these wealthy people are a huge pain in my freakin’ ass. Over privileged asshats. It’s a wonder I don’t slap them. I made it through okay only because we had a ridiculous amount of wine and cheese. I slept like a drunken baby that night. We all know drunken babies are adorable.

Last night I shot a bunch of people. I went paintballing with a large group of friends at an indoor field. I was a virgin. This was all the more entertaining because the creamy reddish white paintballs made you look like you just stepped out of a horrifying orgy when the game was done. We were in a small space and there were a lot of us so you got hit A LOT. 150 mph paintballs would hit you in the face (covered by a mask) chest, arms, and legs. My friend had one ricochet up into her mask and break in her mouth. I shot her boyfriend in the neck and it bled. I have welts on my inner thigh and ass. It was AWESOME! Three hours of this passed like fifteen minutes. If my daily workout could be shooting people I would be a pro.

Now I guess I have to start thinking about Thanksgiving. I usually make sangria for everyone. Here is my recipe for extremely intoxicating wine juice.
One Bottle or Jug of a Rich Red Wine (Cheap)
3 cups or One Bottle of White Rum (Add the amount that best suits you and your hangover needs.)
½ Cup of Sugar (Powdered or Regular It Doesn’t Matter)
1 Orange – 1 Lemon – 1 Lime – Other Fruit You Like to add like Apples or Whatever Crazy stuff you are into.
Directions: Add the rum to a bowl or container or whatever the hell it fits in. Mix in the sugar. Slice up all your fruit and toss it in with the sugar rum. Leave it in the fridge overnight. That last step might be hard for some of you because who can leave a large amount of fruity sugar rum in the fridge all night without drinking it? I have found that drinking other things while you prepare helps you pass out and not touch the rum until morning. Good luck. The very last step is for when you are ready to serve. Just mix your rum fantasy with your bottle/ jug of wine and stir well. I promise you will have a happy holiday and a lovely nap.

Holiday Gig

Do you know anyone that needs a Holiday band for their office party? Oh yes, it's already that time of year folks. Start planning out your xmas gifts and using Santa as a threat to the kiddies.

I can't type the name of the band here because I don't want any booking agents associating me with my blog and not my bio. Instead I'm going to post a little sound bite we threw together for our electronic mailings. I feel obligated to let you know what I'm up to every now and then. Plus, Gary asked nicely.

GET IN THE f'n SPIRIT ALREADY!

Why?

Jay asked me (well, everyone) why I blog and then listed a whole bunch of really good reasons so that I wouldn’t have to think too hard. I decided that it’s to avoid paying for therapy. I want to take this moment to thank you all for being a part of my group therapy sessions. I’ve worked through a lot and all you had to do was comment every now and again about nothing in particular. I really feel that I’ve grown as a person and each of you almost have something to do with that. Almost.

I told Sky to go to his own home Friday and got the whole weekend to myself! What did I do alone in my apartment over the weekend? Clean. I feel so much better. Cleanliness is next to happiness is what I always say. Don’t worry, I’ve never said that. I don’t like cleaning things, I just like it to be clean and I can’t afford cleaning people to do it for me. I also realized I have a weird little quirk and I wonder if others have the same thing. If I have been cleaning anything, not organizing but cleaning, I have to take a shower immediately after. It’s not like I actually got dirty in the process but even running the vacuum means I have to take a shower. I might have problems.

I sang during a friends show at a bar last night. It was a last minute thing but very fun. Then a crazy old red headed guy dressed in full Jets attire insisted on walking me home. Normally I would be worried but he was nice and smaller and weaker than me. He proposed to me. How is it that the strangest human being at the bar will always seek me out? I’ve gotten so many proposals from strange old men in my days I can’t even begin to count. What in the hell is that about?

Sending The Message

My lover Sky is an awesome guy. We rule countries together (at Medieval Times in New Jersey) as you can see in the photo above. Don't we look evil? We are. Anyway, I love Sky very much. We have been together for something like a year and change, I think. During this time we have both been unemployed off and on, seriously broke, sick, happy, performing, amazing. He has also been pretty much homeless for a few months in there. It became convenient for him to slowly move his shit into my apartment. Then it was convenient that he was staying there every night. Sooner or later I realized, WTF? You are living with me! I don't remember agreeing to that.

Now you see, I have crazy expensive rent because I live in an awesome neighborhood. It's also the smallest studio apartment you could ever imagine. I posted a video tour of it once. I barely have room for me and my stuff let alone a whole other person. So I never let Sky move his stuff out of his brother's place and storage into my place. Therefore, he doesn't pay any rent. This whole arrangement was fine with me because we both have been having a hard time.

The situation has changed.

Sky's wonderful lovely brother has an apartment in Queens which is about 45 minutes on the subway from me. He has a nice two bedroom with a kitchen and living room. It sounds like a palace! The old roommate ran home to Texas so Sky moved all his stuff in and finally has a real home. I'm thrilled for him. So why isn't he staying there? GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT SKY! I want my own damn space back! I want to put everything back where it belongs. I want to be there watching what I want on TV and listening to my music. I want it to look the same as it did when I left when I come home. I miss living alone! I'm begging you. Go away. Not all the time. Not forever. Just rewind this whole thing about a year and we will be back on track. I'm telling you, I will love you more if you GET OUT.

It’s the day of the vote yall.

It’s that time of year when YOU get to force your beliefs and opinions on everyone around you by silently voting anomalously in a closed booth. Oh the POWER! I finally feel like someone is listening to me! Actually, it feels a little more like shouting in a room full of shouters and whichever contestant gets the loudest shouts wins. Somehow my shout doesn’t seem to count for much. Oh well. I still have to show up or I don’t get bitching privileges later, right? Isn’t that how it works?

On a far more important topic, what should I make for dinner tonight?

*The voices in my head won’t stop screaming.*