Blind Prophecy

Today has been strangely busy and hectic. I’ve barely had a moment of down time.

First, I found out that we’re doing our yellow page guide (called the “Results Pages”) before I leave, so we had to plan a production calendar, begin inputting database information and have a series of meetings about the design and workflow of the project. After that, I got tied up in writing half a dozen instruction guides on things I’ve been doing so long no one else knows how to do them.

Funny thing happened today. Steve was doing research on the news that The Simpsons is going to “out” a long-time character sometime next season. His contact at GLAAD gave him a number to get in touch with Matt Groening’s office for official comments or press photos. Well, when Steve called the number, it turns out to be Matt Groening’s direct line!!! We were all asking Steve if we’d be allowed to touch him now that he’s spoken to the creator of The Sipmsons and Futurama.

Yesterday (after Big Brother 5 – damn that Jase & Scott! damn them to hell!!!), Nick and I went out to FLEX to spent some time together. They were hosting a drag show and amateur stripper contest along with a liquor bust. Well, $7 for all the Rum & Diets I can drink before 1 am… I’m very lucky I was able to get out of bed this morning.

The amateur strippers were horrible. If I’d just seen them in the bar, dressed and casual, I might have given them an average rating of 6 – but as strippers, that number dropped to 3. If you’re going to wiggle your ass in a thong, you need to have 1) dance moves, 2) an ass, and 3) a decent thong. One of the guys had loose skin on his ass (it looked like he’d dropped 40 pounds to get this new body he’s so proud of, but it left stretch marks and flabby skin on his butt), another looked like Antonio Banderas circa 1985 – if Antonio had really bad hair, was only 5’4″ and covered in razor burn on his chest.

The third guy was pushing forty with lovehandles and came out (initially) is a weird silk robe. The robe gave way to ugly cotton Snoopy v. The Red Baron boxer shorts. The boxer shorts gave way to hideous zebra-print briefs. The briefs gave way to a loose black jock strap. Then the guy started working the crowd (and by crowd, I mean 10 drunk guys) and since Nick was clearly the cutest guy in the place, he came straight at us. It turns out that the jock strap gives way to a discolored leather cock ring and smelly pubic hair – which he forced me to touch in his attempts to earn a dollar tip from me. Nick and I just kept grimacing at each other over his shoulder while he tried rubbing up against us.

Anyway, I never heard from Jayne, which I guess pretty much means Alexia isn’t coming to visit me this week. I’m disappointed, but I’m working on getting Brian to make more trips to Salt Lake (he’s the one who usually doesn’t like being around my extended family) in the future so hopefully we might get to see them over the holidays.

Right now, Luanne (a sales rep for the magazine) is desribing in painful detail the bowel problems of her cats. I’m trying to find my happy place.

Filed under: livejournal by Jere Keys