One day last week I came home and went into my bedroom. I noticed a rather odd smell that kinda smelled like the cat. At first I was like “Oh, its nothing, its just the cat.” Then I realized that was more than just a little odd because I hate cats and because I hate cats I don’t have any cats. In fact I don’t have any pets at all. My bedroom is right off the kitchen and thought that maybe it was just some sort of food that had gone rotten either in or about the fridge. Although it really was not an overwhelmingly bad smell. Either way, I didn’t think much of it. I opened the fridge and there was no odor.

The next day I noticed that the smell was now emanating from the other side of the kitchen near the family room. Ok, maybe it was the garbage, so I stuck my head in the trash and inhaled as much as I could. Hmmmmm…………that doesn’t smell good at all, but it certainly doesn’t smell like our odor. So just to be sure, I deeply inhaled again. Nope. Definitely not the same odor. Then the next day I noticed that the smell was a little further away closer towards the utility room. I started to suspect that maybe somehow, an animal had taken up residence in my attic. So I put my head in the garbage and inhaled.

Last night I was going to bed and the smell had returned to my bedroom. Great, just how the fuck was I supposed to sleep now. As I lay in bed struggling to fall asleep, all sorts of crazy thoughts are running through my head. I’ve got a couple of vents in the ceiling in my bedroom and I started thinking that maybe a snake was up there and it was going to come down through the vents and squeeze me to death. I know, real irrational shit, right, but hey, that’s my fucking mind for you. Then I was thinking that maybe a raccoon was up there and it would come through the ceiling at night and land on me while I was sleeping. I realized at the time that this was crazy unrealistic shit that I was thinking but I also knew that I would not get a good night’s sleep if I stood in that room. So I grabbed my cell phone and pillows and went into the spare room. I went back and grabbed the fan and on my way to the spare room put my head in the garbage and inhaled. It was crazy to sleep in the other room, but again, I know that it would make for a restless night of sleep if I didn’t get the fuck out of there.

So now here I am today, with a possible who knows what the fuck living in my attic. Maybe. Honestly, outside of the smell, there are no other signs that something is up there. There are no noises, nothing coming through the ceiling or vents or anything like that. And of course, I’m too much of a pussy to go up there and look. So I called some animal control dude today and he wants to charge like $175 just to come out. And now, I don’t smell anything at all, but I think that is just because the doors and windows were open and the place got a chance to air out.

Hmmmmmmm……………..maybe I should go put my head in the garbage and inhale.

Now that I’ve got contacts, I realized that I could finally purchase sunglasses! I’ve always wanted to wear sunglasses, nothing says cool like sunglasses. And unless they are obnoxiously huge, its virtually impossible not to look good in sunglasses. Having never bought sunglasses before, I have no idea what looks best or what is hip or anything like that. All I know is that I’ve long heard stories about people who spend obscene amounts of money on sunglasses. I was at a college party once and there was almost a massive fight over a pair of “$300 sunglasses”. So as I drove to the store to buy sunglasses, I got to thinking why would I ever pay that much money for a pair of sunglasses?

I started thinking about different scenarios that would lead me to pay $300 for a pair of sunglasses. I thought about it, maybe if I were a millionaire I would pay $300 for a pair of sunglasses. Then I thought more about it………..no, even if I had a million dollars I still can’t see the need in spending $300 on a pair of sunglasses. Unless there was a warning sign on the glasses that that read “WARNING: WILL CAUSE POWERFUL, SPONTANEOUS ORGASMS” there is probably nothing that would make me pay $300 for a pair of sunglasses. Why do they need to charge that much for a pair of sunglasses, is there something that they are doing that the cheap sunglasses aren’t doing? Are they x ray sunglasses? Are they bullet proof, because I’ve got a ton of people who would love to take a shot at me? Are they HD glasses, because I work with a whole ton of people that I would rather not see in hi-def? There has got to be something really fucking special that makes them worth more than your typical $20 pair of sunglasses. Its not like when buying a car you can buy a nicer car with better features; I don’t see any sunglasses that are going to come with air conditioning or power fucking windows. There is no reason that sunglasses should cost more than a pair or seeing eyeglasses.

So of course, I bought pair of sunglasses that cost $20 and went about  my life without a powerful, spontaneous orgasm.

I blatantly stole this from PeriwinkleAdonis I certainly hope he doesn’t mind.

trait snapshot:

Some of it is accurate, some not so much, and yet some of it contradicts other parts of it. I guess for the most part, I’m a perfect person……………who happens to be the world’s most flawed person! Now you have a chance to steal it from me by going here:

http://similarminds.com/global-adv.html

Its story time people! Once again, I have nothing to write about, which is to say that I actually do have something to write about but its from a long time ago. See the thing about me is that odd things tend to happen to me. Sometimes these things find me. And sometimes I  help to create them. Either way, it makes for some funny ass shit. So tonight I’m going to go back to around 1998 or so, give or take a couple of years.

Back in the day, my friends and I used to always go camping and white water rafting every year at a place in Wisconsin called Shotgun Eddy’s. It started originally as us making the 5-6 hour drive for the weekend. Then it was from Thursday to Sunday. And after a while we were going from Tuesday until Sunday. The rafting was only one day, the rest of the time was spent hanging out and camping. We would play horseshoes or maybe go for a swim in the river or just hanging out and having a good time. It was camping though in the truest sense, complete with tents and sleeping bags and building a fire at night. Oh, and there was no running water; there was an outhouse where we could make onesies and twosies, but if we wanted to shower we had to drive 5-10 minutes up the road. We would usually go with about a group of 10-12 people, give or take a few.  By the way if you are ever in the Wisconsin area, I highly recommend them, you can check out more on their website http://shotguneddy.com/ it is well worth the trip. Ok, so now I’ve set the background.

After spending 4 or 5 days in the woods, we all drove back to a central meeting place where everybody got their crap out of each others cars and whatnot. One of my friends and I gave a ride home to another guy by the name of Gordon, who was actually friends with my brother. He was a nice guy, fun but maybe a little odd at times. He was probably in his mid to late 30s at the time. We dropped him off at either his house or his relatives house, I really don’t know. It was a warm August day, but not really oppressively hot. We get out of the car and unload his stuff from the trunk. All of a sudden, his 7 or 8 year old nephew darts out of the house and runs up to him to hug him as he certainly seemed very excited to see him. Ok, so nothing odd about that. At least it wasn’t odd until you find out that the boy was naked! And I don’t mean like shirtless with just his underwear on. I mean butt ass, bare as the day he was born naked. And it wasn’t like he lived in the country, this was the suburbs, people, complete with cars driving by and neighborhood houses. It wasn’t dark out either, it was probably about 6 or 6:30pm, still very much light out. And coming out of the house right after him was an older lady who must have been the boy’s grandmother. All she said in a nice, soothing tone was, “Oh, he is just so happy to see Gordon.” My friend awkwardly said “Yeah, it looks like he is” and with that we shot an odd look at each other and got in the car and drove the fuck off, laughing by the time we got to the end of the block. We think that the boy might have been autistic or something along those lines, which makes me feel kinda bad for laughing at the situation, but on the other hand, shit, its still a really funny situation, especially with the lady’s great unintentional one liner.

I’ve got nothing to write about and usually when I have nothing to write about, I decide to write about something in my life from before I started blogging. So tonight, I’m going to write about when I was a stripper at a bachelorette party. I’m serious people, I ain’t makin’ that up, my wimpy, skinny ass stripped for a bachelorette party once. And here is how it all went down.

It all happened way back in January of 1996. I was 20 and a couple of good friend’s of mine, Cara and Vic were getting married for some crazy reason. Vic I had known for a few years, but Cara, I had known her since I was 3. Her maid of honor was our friend Dori who I had known for a few years as well. Dori had to plan the bachelorette party and was having some trouble coming up with something to do, especially since we were all under 21 at the time. So she asked me if I would be a stripper, I think partly because she thought it would be funny and partly because she didn’t think I would do it. Oh, and if I did do it, she knew she wouldn’t have to pay me. Well, it would be funny. And I did say yes. And of course, she didn’t pay me.

Now I should mention that although I am gay, I’m not feminine at all. I do, however, have a very big personality. I like to make people laugh. I love being in the spotlight and having the attention on me. In high school, I would always kid around and take Cara’s purse and in a joking manner start dancing around singing “I’m Every Woman” just to make her and others laugh, my theory was always anything for a laugh. So I decided I would play on that whole concept. I was going to get dressed up in drag and then strip.

As sad as it may sound, Dori and I were close to the same size, at least figure wise. She was taller than me, but we were both very skinny. So I borrowed some of her clothes. Her younger brother who has a hot body, would kind of be my opening act, doing a little bit of a dance while taking off  his shirt. He also let me borrow a pair of his boxers which were yellow and had a smiley face on them. Perfect.

We were at Dori’s boyfriend’s house (he wasn’t home) and I got dressed in the bedroom and was all ready to go. Dori’s brother Shaun went out first and danced to some dance song that I can’t quite remember right now. Then I came out to Whitney Houston’s version of “I’m Every Woman” much to the shock and amusement of Cara and all the other ladies (I think there were about 7 or 8 of them). I danced and slowly removed my clothes to that song and then Jimi Hendrix’s “Foxy Lady” followed by Rod Stewart’s “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy“. I’ve always felt that for a male stripper, although a great body is nice to have, you can be just as good by being funny and entertaining, which I was. The girls were giving me Monopoly money and they were drawing all over me with markers and I was drawing and writing crazy shit on them as well. When I look back on it, I would totally do it again, it was a lot of fun and I’d like to think everybody enjoyed themselves. So if anybody needs a stripper………………. By the way,  I do have pictures too, but they are not scanned and therefore I’m unable to post them.

As for the marriage……………..well, I think it lasted all of 3 years, if even that long. Although they had a beautiful daughter 14 months later, it was still an ill advised marriage.

Now comes the time when I subject you to another one of my posts about sports that you have no interest in. Or maybe very little interest. Either way, this post is pretty much a self centered post for me to look back on in 6 months and realize just how damn wrong I was about the baseball season.

Baseball isn’t just my favorite sport, but its also my life’s passion. And at the heart of that passion is my favorite team the Chicago Cubs. I wish I could say I was optimistic about the season this year for the Cubs, but the reality is that more than likely its going to be a very long season. This team is filled with questions marks and usually when you have an aging team with numerous question marks it usually spells disaster. I know a lot of the so called experts have the Cubs finishing in second place this season. Some have them finishing in third. I look at this team and see them in fourth, which is tough for them to do since they are not in a very good division. Of course, they could shock the world and win the division if about 20 things go right for them. That being said, 20 things are not going to go right for them and that is how they wind up in fourth place. As for Chicago’s other team, the White Sox, I think they will actually win their division. Not that I care, I’m not a Sox fan in the least.

Each year I always attempt to pick the World Series winner. Last year I picked the Los Angeles Dodgers to beat the Boston Red Sox in the World Series. Of course that didn’t happen. This year, I’m going to pick the New York Yankees to win the World Series over the surprising upstart San Francisco Giants. I know, how hard is it to pick the Yanks to win it all? The reality though is that love them or hate them, they are the class of baseball and have the best team. The Giants however are not the best team. Hell, I don’t even think they are the best team in the National League. Shit, they might not even be the best team in their division. What they do have though, is quite possibly the best pitching staff in the NL and pitching wins championships. If they can somehow find a way to get to the playoffs, then that great pitching could dominate and shutdown any offense in the National League.

So there you have it. I will have to check back at the end of October to laugh about about pathetically wrong I was about my picks.