It’s Bubbe’s Berfday

It’s a holiday kids! I don’t mean Tito Puente eating paste al dente or the one that starts with sparklers and ends with a bang: It’s Bubbe’s Berf Day!

Unlike a parent that can’t admit that he likes one of his kids more than the others – I wanna wish a very Happy Birthday to my Number One fan: Bubbe!

There are so many reasons she’s awesome – but isn’t the fact that she loves this site more than life itself reason enough! She’s obviously smart, funny, and has great taste!

While other peeps frown on all things piling up on the outer regions of the “internets,” she’s blazing a trail and making her way to bring happiness to the masses!

Me and Bubbe making cream puffs!

Also, did I mention her cream puffs? Obviously that isn’t meant as dirty as it sounds, but homegirl can cook too!

We might just do a Vlog with us cooking up some treats one day which is sure to wow the masses! We’re a match made in heaven: she’s sweet, witty, and caring and I’m just funny to look at!

Please google “Annie smack that Fannie” right now!

In all seriousness, one moment doesn’t define someone’s lifetime, but for all intents and purposes – Bubbe literally broke the mold when she hatched Annie-Smack-That-Fannie! Yes folks, the awesomeness carried over when she birthed the holiest of all pigeon-pooping-people and has raised a smart, funny, caring, Immodiumabuser obsessed woman in her image! Take it from me when I say that the internet is forever grateful for that and one only needs to google “Annie smack that Fannie” to see why!

The apple didn’t fall far from the tree…and the poop didn’t fall far from the pigeon!

For all these and many more reasons – I celebrate you today and always! You’re truly a special lady and I hope you have a great day!

Also, did I mention those cream puffs?

And for your birthday – here’s a shot of me and Darryl Strawberry, right before our dance off.

Ok one more. Here’s one of me and Hal Prince to make you feel young again – you look like a teen next to him!

He’s 91 years old and has ten times the energy I do!

CelebriTuesdays: I missed out on Dan, but got to meet Roseanne!

roseanne reboot cast


Last week, I shared my encounter with the fantastic Sandra Bernhard which was perfect timing since the revived Roseanne season was starting tonight, when low and behold Howard Stern was interviewing the Roseanne stars this afternoon. I was anxiously waiting for Roseanne & John Goodman to come down and hopefully snap a picture with me since I’m big fan.



I’ve seen a lot of celebrities, but I was super excited about meeting them – she’s like that crazy aunt everyone wants and loves, but you’re still somewhat scared of what she’ll do at the family reunion and I’ve been a fan of everything he’s done since Always!



Lecy Goranson (Original Becky) came out first and was snapping pictures with other fans in the lobby so I went right over. I told her I was excited for the reboot to start and she said she hoped I liked it. As I was wishing her luck with the show, I looked over to see Roseanne and John Goodman walking towards the door. It was my very own Sophie’s Choice as they split up and headed towards different exits – there was just no way to get both of them.


sophie's choice gif.gif


I love John Goodman, but Roseanne was closer to me and I felt like I had a better shot of actually getting her, so I jumped into action using my ninja-stealth speed. OK – I actually just walked over towards where she was heading, but it was at a brisk pace and still felt very Mission Impossible-ish!


mission impossible gif.gif


Roseanne’s assistant was shooing people away and said “no pictures” and that Roseanne wouldn’t sign any autographs. I looked over and plotzed because John Goodman was taking pictures with everyone at the other door, but I knew he was too far away now so it was Roseanne or nothing. I was right next to her now and all that stood between her and I was that damn assistant who was no-nonsense as she tried to quickly shuttle her to their waiting car.



As luck would have it, Roseanne’s assistant actually brought her to and opened the door of the wrong car; she actually opened the car door that Lecy had just gotten into. This little snafu caused a short moment of confusion and that moment was my small window of opportunity. I hustled around her assistant and got on the other side of Roseanne once again using my previously mentioned stealth-like ninja speed. I asked Roseanne if I could take the picture and she didn’t answer – full disclosure, it was a little bit of a commotion with the crowd and her assistant leading her to multiple cars through the crowd. I asked again since I’m not an animal and felt it would be extremely rude of me to just jam my phone into Roseanne’s face and start snapping pictures. Also, she’s crazy and could have slugged me which would have been even more awesome!



Roseanne 1




I asked once again – which at that point was even irritating to me as well – and she looked at me and said what could have been a sarcastic line right from the show “Well, why don’t you just take it already?’” and then she started laughing. It wasn’t her famous cackle from the show, but it’s not like I was tickling her or had told her how my sister shit on a cat; either way she still laughed at me. Drop the mic now because Roseanne laughed at me! Granted, she was laughing at me, not with me, but I’ll take what I can get. She got into the car and was gone in an instant and I wans happy as a pig in a poke. (Not really sure exactly what that expression actually means, but I was pretty stoked).


Roseanne 3


I didn’t get to meet John Goodman today but I’m happy that I at least got to see him in person. I got to meet and get pictures with Becky and Roseanne so, all in all, it was a really good day – but mark my words, I will meet you one day John Goodman! Like Scarlet O’Hara extolled in the classic Gone with the Wind “As God is my witness, I will never miss a picture with John Goodman again!”




CelebriTuesdays: I felt The Big Sick after Kumail’s egregious Oscar snub!

big sick poster

I know what you’re thinking: the Oscars always omit deserving nominees and even though the field was expanded to include more films, this year is no different. How can the Academy legitimately present the best films and egregiously omit Kumail Nanjiani’s best work on the movie screen: Poop Talk? That’s obviously much more fun to talk about than me following after him down half a block to get a photo with him…

poop talk poster

If you thought I was referring to The Big Sick, you might be sorry you clicked here. That’s also a really amazing film, but if I’m honest – it kind of pales in comparison to the depths of emotion and honesty that Nanjiani shows in Poop Talk. Forget about Holly Hunter and Ray Romano, this is the real deal – the meat and potatoes if you will. No, I am not making this shit up and you won’t see anything more real on your screen this year. There are no avian females or billboards here, but there are plenty of comedians and experts dropping their truth while celebrating the very last taboo: poop talk.

I will admit that when I first heard about Poop Talk, I was a tad bit offended that I was excluded from participating in the making of this masterpiece. Could there really be a better “expert” on the complex intricacies of number two than moi? I don’t think so and it’s shocking anyone else could either. That being said, since I am a part-time mature adult, I took a cue from Elsa and Let it Go. Also, I thought I’d channel these feelings of exclusion and abandonment into focusing on getting myself a role in the inevitable sequel which they should make just for the title alone: Poop Talk: Number 2 – Dance til I Puma Pants! It’s toilet porn with a lot more corn and you bet your sweet bippy I want in on that!


Poop Talk is in movie theatres and Video on Demand on ITunes on February 18th so get that Valentine’s Day Shopping done right now – who needs flowers or jewelry, when this is the gift that will show the depts. Of your affection. It’s guaranteed to bring out the smiles and laughter and I heard that Meryl Streep actually said it moved her like nothing has in the past few years. She also could have been talking about Nanjiani’s chili moving through her which would make more sense, but who am I to argue with her Streep-ness? Full disclosure, no one has ever heard her say anything like that, but it does sound like something she might say or it’s more likely that if the Dingo that ate her baby could talk, this is exactly what it would say…

In all seriousness, we should feel extremely fortunate because it’s not very often that you see an Oscar nominee chatting it up about dookies. In a perfect world, The Big Sick would win the Best Original Screenplay Oscar next month if only so that he could rush the stage extolling the virtues of poop and Imodium…I’m rooting for you Kumail – now let’s hang out and swap shitting stories Buddy! Friends talk about the jobs and family, but Best Friends talk about poop and boy have I got a shitload of stories for you!


This has nothing to do with this post, but I would never be able to use this bathroom!

Poop Talk trailer here:

Get Out: I, Tonya is more like I, Oscar as the nominations announcement takes Shape!



Forget about the Government shutdown or any of those nimrods running this country like a second-rate car wash and prioritize what’s important: Tuesday morning’s Oscar nominations announcement! This year’s race has been all over the place and exciting because there’s not one movie running away with everything – the critic’s prizes have been all over the place so Best Picture isn’t necessarily sewn up just yet.


get out


Forget Christmas or New Year’s – Oscar Season is the most wonderful time of the year! If you don’t agree then you can just Get Out? If you had told me a year ago that this little horror movie would be an Oscar nominee – I’d have told you to get out, but in just a few hours it most certainly will be! I don’t know if I’ll get a Best Picture nomination, but it’s a really great film that’s sure to be recognized tomorrow.




I’m not one to launch into a checklist of all the categories with who I think will be nominated because that’s boring and that’s typical and I am neither of those things. We’ll jump around, but let’s talk Best Director. Do I think Lady Bird will get a Best Picture nomination – definitely. Do I think Greta Gerwig will get a Best Director nomination for it? I’m really hoping that I’m wrong, but unfortunately, I’m leaning towards no. Not because she doesn’t deserve it or she shouldn’t be nominated; I want to be wrong on this but I’m leaning towards no based on Oscar history. At this point, I don’t know that there’s anything to stop Guillermo del Toro from winning for The Shape of Water, but the Director’s Branch doesn’t go with the popular vote for their nominations and that’s especially true recently.


lady bird


It may seem odd to overlook the front runner to one of the most talked about films this year, but there are only five spots and this is an old boys club that might just stick with the veterans like Spielberg and Ridley Scott over newer directors like Greta Gerwig or Jordan Peele. Also, there have only been four women nominated for Best Director and only one female winner. In 90 Years – how is that even possible? That fact in itself is hard to ignore and pushes me towards a Gerwig snub Tuesday morning…




If snubbing Greta Gerwig seems absolutely crazy, remember that this is the same Director’s branch that didn’t give Martin Scorcese a Best Director Oscar until The Departed in 2006! Take that in folks – Eminem was an Oscar winner for 8 Mile years before Martin-effin-Scorcese! Shameful as that is, Christopher Nolan has never even been nominated for Best Director – this nomination for Dunkirk will be his first! This is one branch of the Academy that doesn’t seem to go with emotions or what the public does like the acting branch. In fact, in recent years the Best Director hasn’t even lined up with the Best Picture winner which, historically, was never the case.




Remember how great it was when Kathryn Bigelow stormed the stage for The Hurt Locker to win Best Director? That was an anomaly. She was snubbed for Zero Dark Thirty shortly after in the same year that be Affleck was snubbed for Argo – which actually won Best Picture! How the hell does the film winning Best Picture not get a nomination for Best Director? Affleck’s snub was the best thing that happened to Argo; it made them the underdog and they ran on a “shame on you for not nominating Ben Affleck” campaign which gained momentum and won the trophy. That could certainly happen with Lady Bird if Gerwig isn’t nominated tomorrow – it would up the chances in a race that’s not over by a long shot and march Lady Bird right up to the podium!


michael shannon


Along with the snubs are the surprise nominations that come along every now and then; there are always a few head scratchers that seem to just come out of nowhere and I love them. Last year, Amy Adams was snubbed for Arrival which I didn’t love and then her costar Michael Shannon came out of nowhere and got nominated for Nocturnal Animals which he could do again with The Shape of Water. It’s a film that everyone has seen so he could possibly hear his name called if the film builds momentum. It’s extremely doubtful for so many reasons but just know that if he hears his name, Woody Harrelson or Armie Hammer definitely won’t.




Both The Shape of Water and Three Billboards will have three acting nominations but Sam Rockwell – it’s about damn time! Three Billboards will be the first film since Bugsy in 1992 with two supporting actors nominated for the same film. Those nominations are givens, but although quite unlikely, it’s entirely possible for Jessica Chastain in Molly’s Game to sneak into Meryl Streep’s The Post spot and Daniel Day Lewis might not get the love people are expecting for Phantom Thread leaving an open spot for Daniel Kaluuya for Get Out.


phantom thread


My big wish for the nominations is to see some love for Mudbound and The Big Sick and not just because I met Kumail Nanjiani and he’s awesome. I don’t think Mary J Blige is gonna make the cut for a Supporting Actress for Mudbound, so I’m rooting for her in the Best Original Song category! Mudbound is a great film, with a great story and a great cast that just happens to be written and directed by Dee Rees and I hope it gets the recognition it deserves. It should land a screenplay nod tomorrow, but getting a Best Picture nomination would be amazing, but it’s a very long shot.




If you think the race is over, consider that final Oscar voting closes on February 27th and the ceremony isn’t until March 4th – that is a lifetime away from now in Oscar campaigning and although Three Billboards has momentum right now, it’ll be hard to maintain that for the next month; I, Tonya could club the competition and surge up to a prime spot between now and then.




CelebriTuesdays: Pablo Pascal is my Narcos pal, but I think I might have Hoult Nicholas’ feelings


Pablo car 2 use

No, that bald guy isn’t me – I’m taking the picture!


It was my very own Sophie’s Choice: Pablo Pascal and Nicholas Hoult were coming my way, but I’d only be able to get one photo as they weren’t right next to each other. It had to be a lightning quick decision, so I went with the Narcos and Game of Thrones star!


narcos poster


Full disclosure, I’ve never actually seen Game of Thrones and please don’t tell me that I’m missing out because I see so many sword fights, incestuous monarchs, and scary dragons in my everyday life that I want escapism on the shows I watch. It’s like when I tell people the only seafood I eat is Swedish Fish and then they tell me that it’s because “you haven’t tried my salmon” or “you don’t even eat Lobster?” No thanks, I’m good – don’t try to convince me or force it on me – I said no to your fish and no to your Game!



Nicholas Hoult has been in the X-Men movies, the new Rebel in the Rye movie I want to see, but he’s probably more famous for dating Jennifer Lawrence. I’m a fan and I like his movies, but I can’t help but feel like he owes me ten dollars for my Mad Max: Fury Road movie ticket. Just like Charlize Theron, I was Furiosa and really hated that movie so I didn’t feel that I could let him pass by without mentioning it and went with Pablo. Although, if he and Jennifer Lawrence were still dating, I would have forgiven him and let that ten dollars slide by choosing him for a picure…


sophie's choice

Wow, I can see why it was so hard for Meryl to choose…



I did feel bad, but here’s a tiny bit of him to Hoult you over – he’s in the upper right hand corner of the picture so I did kinda get a picture with him:




Just in the Nick of time – he’s in the right corner.



Either way, another day – another sighting, but seriously – can we talk about my selfie game? I mean look at this:


Pablo bad selfie face


It’s awful…to the untrained eye, this doesn’t look like a celebrity encounter with a fan, but a colonoscopy on the street. One initially wonders what he’s doing with his right hand that has me in such distress.  I texted my sister afterwards and her immediate response was did he shove his fist up your ass? What’s wrong with your face? Glad to know that I can always count on my family to make me feel better.  Enough is enough with these weird pictures. It genuinely looks like something is wrong with me and I need to enroll in an online selfie school. Any suggestions?



alive and well

Thanks a Latte for your devotion to the show.



A Patriotic Tribute

They took one look at me in fatigues and changed their mind...

They took one look at me in fatigues and changed their mind…

On this fine day when we stand in tribute to the great men and women of our armed forces who fight each and every day for our freedom to abuse Imodium AD and write a crazy blog like this, I went to the local recruiting station. Writing this blog is providing an essential service to the country, but I started to question whether I was doing enough and considered enlisting in the Marines. After a quick glance at me in the fatigues, the recruiter thanked me for my interest but assured me that my enlistment wouldn’t be fair to my wife and kids, wouldn’t be to my fair to my friends and colleagues, and above all – it wouldn’t be fair to the Marines! He saluted me and asked that I promise to continue my vital work on this site so here is a tribute to the Marines and all the other armed service men and women risking life and limb the only way I know how:

I was DOA when my Imodium went MIA

My recurring travelling nightmare...

My recurring travelling nightmare…

Last week I was in Chicago for a work trip and I lost my stash of Imodium AD. My Imodium Ad stash isn’t like the pimp-stache I used to rock above my lip back in college that was nicknamed the tickler; this is one has a serious job to do. It’s not a fancy monogrammed tin or anything, just a plain old Advil travel size container that I use to transport my tiny little life-support system. While out gallivanting one night at the bar “networking” I apparently dropped it out of my pocket and went into full panic mode.

Tken during my second Junior year in college - no one told me that the pimpstache was just a little too much...

This was taken during my second Junior year in college – no one told me that the pimpstache was just a little too much…

I used to keep my Imodium AD in a round mint tin that I was very attached to, but that met an unfortunately tragic end. Long story short, I was following my brother and sister-in-law to the Long Island Expressway through some back roads that I was unfamiliar with when they got out to hug me goodbye. THEY STOPPED THE CAR AND GOT OUT TO SAY GOODBYE ON THE EXPRESSWAY! WHO DOES THAT? Why they couldn’t just waive and drive on like normal people do is anyone’s guess, but we were coming from a funeral so emotions might have been higher than usual. As I got out of the car to see why they stopped, the tin dropped to the ground and rolled right onto the Expressway. It was like it happened in slow motion and I immediately freaked out as it took all of three seconds before it was run over by a hottie in a red hoopdie who sprinkled my Imodium all over that highway like confetti!


As you can imagine, I responded as any normal person would after seeing something so traumatic: they had to restrain me from chasing it into the street like a psychopath while I was screaming like Shirley MacLaine in Terms of Endearment when she’s in the hospital and it’s time for Debra Winger’s shot. My stomach dropped and I fell to my knees crying out in pain – I almost had a heart attack at that sight while those two just laughed their asses off. There was not one ounce of sympathy that I was on my way to the airport and might need to risk my life and make the flight commando now. Meryl Streep had an easier time making Sophie’s Choice than I did getting over seeing something I treasure destroyed like that…Needless to say I stopped and refilled and replaced the tin so everyone could rest easy…

As I’ve highlighted before, me traveling for work is normally difficult , but adding this to the mix doubled my stress load. My first stop the next morning was at 8:30 AM, so I did what I could and hit the market kiosk in the hotel lobby. Why they don’t offer items in bulk I’ll never guess, but they only sold Imodium AD in two packs. I did the only sensible thing and got ten of them figuring I could stop at CVS after my appointments were finished and fully restock. Since it was a busy Wednesday morning, there were quite a few corporate travelers like me filling the lobby as I waited in line to pay at the Front Desk.

As my turn to pay arrived, the Agent looked at the heap of Imodium AD I had placed on the counter and gasped. He looked from the pile right up at me and said “Oh my God, Are you OK?” Normally, this really wouldn’t have been a big deal if there weren’t four people on line in back of me and he hadn’t said it so loud that they all heard and immediately looked at what I was buying. I scowled back at him and said “Yes, thank you for asking” and took out my wallet to which he replied “Buddy, I’m not going to charge you for these…if you’re in pain and need that many – they’re on me!”

I guess it would have been a nice gesture if he hadn’t been talking so God damned loud that everyone and their mother could now tell that gastric disruption was going to be a big part of my day. I guess it might not have been that bad if the elevator had come a little quicker after me paying for them so that I didn’t have to ride down to the hotel entrance with two of the people from the line staring as if I might lose control of my colon at any moment. You know that look of disgust mixed with judgment mixed with a hint of the stink eye? That’s what they were coming at me with and I really can’t blame them. What could I do? It wasn’t like I could tell the front Desk Agent or those people that it was preventative… I guess we all have our cross to bear…


What’s the lesson we learn here? Right, always have a backup case for your Imodium because there might come a day when the hotel lobby might not have Imodium and you’ll really be screwed!  I almost felt like it was a little bit of karma from the night before. I proceeded to explain to a colleague (that bears a more than striking resemblance to Julianne Moore but from The Kids Are All Right, not Boogie Nights) that if she took more than four minutes in the restroom, the assumption was that she was dropping a deuce. She tried to dispute that logic, but come on – I wasn’t being judgmental – just factual. You know those people that come back after a spell and try to pretend they met a friend and got to talking on the bathroom line – they’re liars! They didn’t see a friend in there – they dropped off a friend in there! Own the deuce and the amount of time you took for it – we all know that’s what you’re doing. You’re not checking your messages or emails at 10:30 PM! If you’re just going in to pee – there is no way it takes that long. Am I wrong here? I may be crazy about a lot of things, but I’m not sure I’m off the mark on this one…


Forget the Mountain, she Brokeback Christmas?


This time of year always makes me think about the close family and friends that may not be with me in person any longer, but are never far from my heart. That being said, I thought I’d honor the memory of my Aunt Margie in the only way I know how!

She was very special to me and I loved her dearly…If she were still with us, she’d be celebrating a birthday and the holiday this December yet she’d say the story that I really should be sharing is when my Aunt Beanie Vote ruined her Christmas.


The Holiday Season was upon us and it took Aunt Margie weeks and weeks and weeks of looking through many many many stores in order to find the perfect artificial tree and yet mere minutes for Aunt Beanie Vote to crush the woman’s Christmas Cheer. The tree was all assembled and we took a step back to admire it – but it was slightly slanted. We cocked our head from side to side to make sure, but it was definitely crooked. I thought it might be the stand or the fact that it was on a carpeted floor, but Aunt Beanie being The Christmas Tree Whisperer saw the problem immediately: The mini tree that fits into the pole and rests on top of the tree to form the peak was ever so slightly slanted off to the side. She grabbed a hold of that tree and started to Bend it like Beckham. A little to the left didn’t do it, a little to the right didn’t seem to straighten it a bit and then one bend too many snapped that mother right in half. I’m not saying she was a little to rough with the branches as I’m not a Christmas Tree Whisperer like she is, but maybe she shouldn’t have gone all Rambo on the tree topper

Aunt Beanie Vote takes down another one "I wish I knew how to quit you!"

Aunt Beanie Vote takes down another one
“I wish I knew how to quit you!”

As these situations usually do tend to bring out the best in me, I fell onto the couch laughing like the immature child that I still am all these years later. She stood there holding those branches aloft not daring to turn around and make eye contact with Aunt Margie, who was definitely not laughing…Despite her Meryl Streep in The River Wild physique, Aunt Beanie Vote really doesn’t have super-human strength or anything. She just bent the top part of the tree a little bit too far and it just so happened to snap. It was so random that she probably couldn’t do it again if she tried, which makes me all the more glad for witnessing it.  

My helpful grandmother (who was always one to generously stir the pot) took in the attack on their tree like a champ and in her beneficial way yelled at me “Come on, don’t laugh or she’ll hear you!” I guess she didn’t realize that since Aunt Margie was actually standing right next to me she could already hear me laughing. She was about two feet from me and had already seen me collapse into a hysterical mess onto their couch before she stormed into the kitchen for her black coffee and cigarettes without a sound…

To be fair, Aunt Beanie Vote was the one who drove her to all those many many many stores and spent weeks and weeks and weeks taking her to look at countless trees and never got frustrated or mad. She was much more patient than I would have been. I’m not even sure what the difference was in any of those trees since they were all green and pretty much looked the same, but Aunt Margie would know “The One” when she saw it. She knew she would find the perfect tree; there was a voice calling to her like the one Kevin Costner heard in Field of Dreams except she wasn’t building the tree and Beanie Vote was no James Earl Jones. Her voice was apparently trying to warn “If she bends it it will break” but you know how unreliable the voices can be…I say this not to make fun of her, but to stress the point that Aunt Beanie Vote was the absolute last person in the world who thought it was funny that the tree broke because now she’d have to pack up the pieces and go back looking for a new tree with my aunt all over again so she wasn’t laughing either.

Aunt Margie did get over it eventually and this happened a hundred years ago when I was seventeen, but I can still hear Aunt Beanie Vote gasping and see her standing there after that tree snapped all these years later and it still makes me laugh hysterically…

That’s the shortened version, because you know how I don’t like to embarrass anyone or blow up their spot…Love ya Beanie!!!


This one’s for you Aunt Margie!


Me at Parris Island with the Marines? No good can come of this!

When my cousin’s Leaky’s boyfriend graduated from the Marines Boot Camp, he invited our whole family to come down to Parris Island for the ceremony. It’s not the Oscars for Christ’s sake – just because you’re invited, doesn’t mean you have to go. The very idea of an outdoor ceremony (forget that it was in South Carolina with that sweltering heat) was a reason enough for me to RSVP with a big fat No Way Jose, but then they ganged up on me.

I get it that he was doing a service to our country and he’s patriotic and we should support the troops and blah blah blah…I get all that but let me tell you a secret  – I don’t respond well to many things, and the sweltering heat is at the top on my list behind public toilets and apple cider. It just came across like a selfish request. Sure the girlfriend had to go, but why was I being punished? Don’t roll your eyes at me – I’m selfish, I recognize selfish requests when I see them! Also, if Hallmark doesn’t sell a card for the occasion there is absolutely no obligation to attend. I have never seen a “You’re really a Champ because you got through Boot Camp” card, have you? I loved the guy and all, but there was no way I was going. That was until my aunt told me that she wouldn’t hound me about how much I drank, she’d let me sleep late, but most importantly, she would give me money. She knew it would mean a lot to him to have us all there and when I was in college, I was sort of like a Times Square Hooker – I wasn’t afraid to take money for the promise of a “Hot Time” (get it “the heat in South Carolina”– a hot time?) and we made our plans. What could happen, right?

So we make our way down there and get to the hotel to drop our bags off. My aunt and my cousin went to get their nails done and that kind of crap for the ceremony the next day, so I did what any reasonable person would do in that situation: found the closest bar. My aunt’s boyfriend and I hit about six bars close to the hotel over the next few hours and I was tanked. We went back to the hotel and I went to bed without incident. That’s what I thought happened, but apparently I was so drunk and hungry from not eating before we drank, that I was scouring the halls until I found a row of vending machines. In my drunken wisdom, I proceeded to break into one of the vending machines by picking the edge of the door open and forcing my hand and shoulder into the machine so that I could loot it. I’m not sure where the super human strength came from, but I was like Superman ripping the door off of a car and reaching in to get the goodies. This might have been fine had I got the snacks and not dropped my glasses into the vending machine as I connected with a bag of Cheetos. When I peeked in to peruse the selection – my four hundred dollar frames slipped off my nose and in a flash they were gone…That’s what I get for vandalizing shit. It wasn’t like I could go to the Front Desk and say that I lost my glasses while pillaging their vending machine, now could I?

The next morning, I was awoken by my crazy aunt kicking the end of my bed and yelling to get up. I lifted my blinders to give that hooker a piece of my mind for waking me up like that, but I could see that she was already in a state. I was like “What’s wrong with you?” which  cerrtainly didn’t help her miserable mood. “What’s wrong with me? Go look in my room and see if you can tell!” Curious, I went through the connecting door to find the room covered in cheese doodles, sun chips, popcorn, munchos, and all manners of snacks strewn about everywhere. I then proceeded to tell her how disgusting her boyfriend obviously was to make such a mess because I assumed he had done it. It was a mistake to assume that. Apparently, when I came back to the room with the snacks, I told them how I looted the machine and compared myself to Robin Hood. I was in a overly sharing mood with the snacks and jumped bed to bed dancing and singing causing them to explode out of their packages all over the room…At that moment, I knew just how Mumble felt in Happy Feet when they just wouldn’t let him dance…

I didn’t really care about the mess, so I went back to lie down. That’s when then they really started screaming about how we had to go or we’ll be late for the graduation blah, blah, blah…It’s that moment when I was told that just because I went out and got drunk, I was still going and wouldn’t make them late – there was no getting out of it. I slowly got ready, but I was dragging big time and wasn’t feeling all that well. We left a half hour later and I still looked like who did what and ran to me…

There I was, emerging out of the suburban when we got to Parris Island and I knew that I was gonna stand out here. Picture me emerging from my cocoon of self-delusion, rising out and rocking my white linen suit like Puffy at one of his White Parties in the Hamptons. I’m not sure who the hell I thought I was, but with my pasty, albino-like white skin I was like a nightlight in a sea of camouflage everywhere.

Also,  what about those nasty sand fleas that inhabit Parris Island? Don’t the Marines go through enough without having to deal with these disgusting little parasites that you can’t really see that attack you in droves…They must have smelled fresh meat when I walked in and called for reinforcements to attack. I was scratching like a stray dog with fleas and immediately got back in the car. “I’m done here” I exclaimed and went back into the air conditioning. I looked over and my aunt had gotten back into the car too like nothing was wrong. “How are these sand fleas not biting the shit out of you?” I asked. She looked side to side to make sure no one was too close to the car, then threw her seat back almost flat and then ripped her hands up and under her wig to scratch for all she was worth before ripping the wig right off of her head. She went to town scratching those fleas while she shook that wig out for all it was worth. Apparently, the Rachel Welch collection of wigs aren’t insect repellent – who would’ve thunk it? (As a side note, she wears wigs because she has bad hair – don’t feel bad for her it’s not a health issue. It’s about her having bad hair people, not a medical thing)

After we took the tour and then we were supposed to head over to the stands near the field to get seats for the Graduation ceremony. I’m not sure that I was hung over as much as I was actually still drunk and the heat wasn’t playing very nicely with me. Me and my white linen suit were schvitzing up a storm and I knew this couldn’t possibly end well for me. We get to the stands and apparently, these people must have slept there the night before, because the only seats available were like thirty rows up at the top of the bleachers. When I tell you that there was not a stich of shade anywhere on that field, I am not exaggerating. I was like a sprinkler the way the sweat was pouring off of me as we made our way up.  We finally made it up and found seats in the very last tippy-top row and I was already soaked through my T-shirt from sweating. As the ceremony was starting, I started to get nauseous. I wasn’t going to make it through this ceremony and it had only just begun.

I lean across my cousin and whisper to my aunt “I need the keys to the car – I have to go back to the hotel.” She tried to ignore me as if I wasn’t there. “Hey, I said I need the keys right now – I’m not gonna make it if you know what I mean. I’m gonna be sick.” Nothing back from her and she actually turned her head away from me.” I leaned fully across my cousin and grabbed her mother’s arm and said – not a whisper this time – “GIVE ME THE FUCKING KEYS RIGHT NOW  or I am going to be sick and shit right here in these bleachers!” She couldn’t look away this time because there were about ten people tittering around us and staring at me. She gave me a nasty look and said “why don’t you just take another Imodium” as if I hadn’t already swallowed eight tablets…“If you don’t give me those God damn keys right now I will rip that wig right off your head and throw it – GIVE ME THE KEYS RIGHT NOW – I DON’T HAVE THEW TIME TO ARGUE – I’M IN A WHITE SUIT!” She handed me the keys and gave me another look of disgust…

I tried to be nonchalant and not cause  a distraction as I made my way down the bleachers, but it wasn’t meant to be. I don’t know if you’ve ever been severely drunk/hung over and tried to make your way through a crowd while moving down an incline all the while clenching for all you’re worth. I was falling into people, stepping on them and knocking in to almost everyone I went past because even when I’m not mid-clench, coordination isn’t my strong suit. I thought it was over for me because I wasn’t even at the halfway point of the bleachers and my stomach was rumbling like mad…Time was of the essence and one wrong step meant the end of that white suit… I must have had fifteen comments/dirty looks/people pushing me back as I made my way down, but I finally got to the field. Then I walked partially on the field while trying to find which way to get to the parking lot when I realized that there was no way I would make the fifteen minute drive back to the hotel and, more importantly, I had no idea where the car was parked.  I was panicking and had seconds to spare when I saw the cross on the building across from where I was: God was like a lighthouse leading me through the storm…

This is the actual chapel at Parris Island.

I knew that I had mere moments and bolted off the field, across the parking lot, through some grass and into the Chapel. Sensing my distress and seeing the state I was in, a lady in the Chapel said “the restroom is back there” and pointed down a long hallway. I stormed through the men’s room door and into the first stall and let out a huge sigh of relief that my fragile white suit was still intact and would live to see another day. At least this is over, I remember thinking…but that was before I got nauseous and started to throw up. I was hovering and pivoting back and forth on the toilet as the vomit dictated; when out of nowhere I heard gunshots…I started screaming at the top of my lungs like Meryl Streep when that dingo ate her baby. It was at that moment when three patrol soldiers that had saw me running off the field and followed me to see where I was running. When they heard me screaming like a little girl, they burst into the room and kicked my stall door in as I was thrown back. If I was screaming from the gunshots before – you should have heard me now. They LITERALLY scared the shit out of me and I thought for sure I’d have a heart attack as they just peered into the stall at me guns out and drawn.

Until they kicked the door in, I had been hovering about a foot over the toilet minding my own business. In the commotion and with the force of the stall door being kicked in at me, I was thrust back and came bare cheek to porcelain on that filthy throne. Bare cheek to porcelain!!! I could not stop screaming and the three of them just burst into hysterics as I was writhing in pain half muttering/half screaming “What the fuck, what the fuck?” Who does that? It’s not right? – my skin hit the bowl…my skin hit the bowl…” They backed out of the bathroom to let me collect myself and laughed at how I got scared of the 21 gun salute…Not my shining moment, not by a longshot.

I had been gone for almost two hours as I was being assaulted by the military police, and the ceremony had ended and they were all taking pictures – thinking I had went back to the hotel so they didn’t look for me. I emerged from my worst nightmare and hobbled out the door into the sunlight to find them randomly taking pictures across from the chapel. I was still in a fog as I wandered out to hear people screaming my name and they were laughing at me and asking if I went to pray to God to help me with the hangover – I couldn’t even talk nor did I want to tell them what happened, but the lady that pointed me to the restroom inside was coming out the front door and still laughing at me and she blew my spot…No one can appreciate explosive diarrhea and its many casualties like family does.

I did learn a valuable lesson that day at Parris Island, but it’s not about how my inappropriate drinking or actions cause bad karma…I learned that I should trust my instincts more. My first instinct was not to go on the trip at all and I went against it and look how that turned out for me…