Jiggy Dance with THE Snake!

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This is dedicated to Kevin for hounding my ass to do another Jiggy Dance. I would also like to dedicate it to Tony and Hanley in the Jukebox Clique who tried in vain to discourage me from doing ANY of these in the future. Suck on my left nut boys. ;) And finally... this is dedicated to all my blogger buddies out there who appreciate my antics.

Snake Witness Relocation Program

I have pulled out the drawer where the snake was hiding several times this evening, yet I have found no snake. The powers-that-be wanting to protect my ass deemed it necessary to continue to stay away from the master bedroom.

Tonight, I am relocating to a room my ex-roommate Erich (who moved to Minnesota) lived in. To get to this room, the snake has to do a little more crawling. My computer room is a straight shot across the hallway from the Master Bedroom. The bed in Erich's former room is slightly higher than my bed in the master bedroom. I figured it was probably safer to sleep in a new bedroom tonight. Kind of like Osama continuously moving from cave to cave. (lol!)

For safe measures, I had my dogs patrol all over the house and every bedroom. I sure hope Daschunds can sniff out snakes. They are once again sleeping with Daddy tonight. I will only be able to go to sleep tonight if I THINK they offer me some sort of protection. I have a flashlight next to my bed in case of any strange noises in the middle of the night. Wish me luck!

Me and A Snake... with Paranoid Delusions on my Back

I have an uninvited guest in my home of the slimy scary serpent variety. Being that I have Ophidiophobia, my guest is VERY unwelcome. How did such a creature find it's way into my home? The only thing I can think of is that it came in from the utility room. See... I had rigged up the dryer exhaust with duct tape because the original aluminum tubing was too short to reach between the wall and the dryer. There has been a huge gaping hole there for a couple of months before I finally did something about it on Sunday. I am surely paying for my sins of procrastination now!

The chance encounter happened this last Saturday. I had a drawer that hadn't closed right for a few days. There was an old film roll that fell behind the drawer and the cabinet leaving a small space. I pulled the drawer out and discovered to my horror a young yet long snake. What was my reaction? Well... in most horrible situations that can cause a typical person to sob uncontrollably and lose their shit... I remain steadfastly calm. Not this time. I screamed like a little girl in bloody terror as I ran out of the master bedroom. The Shrew leaped from the living room couch and insisted on knowing what all the fuss was about.

Of course, when E.Shrew gets to the bathroom and peers into the space where the drawer went, there is no snake. I make him put back the drawer as quickly as possible to block the snake from ever coming out again. As far as I am concerned, the evil and vile creature can just DIE there. I get pissed that Michael does not believe me. I don't care that he thinks I am a little girl for being scared of a snake. I just want the snake OUT MY HOUSE!

Then something horrible happened. A bad thunderstorm rolls into our area. Lightening, monsoon-like rain and roaring thunder is unleashed from the skies. After 10 minutes, my electricity is knocked out. OOOOOOH MYYYYYYYY GAAAAAAAWD. NOOOOOOOO! FUCK! This can't be happening!!!! I am trapped in a house with no power and a fucking snake!!! It's a bad horror movie!

Not being particuliarly sensitive to my paranoid delusions, E.Shrew suddenly announces that he must shave if we are indeed going to the dinner party. I am terrified as he decides to go shave in the same bathroom where the snarky snake is hiding out in. I warn him to be careful and look out for the snake. I give him a flashlight and he goes in my bathroom to shave. He quietly comes back to the living room and announces that he sees the snake's head poking out from the drawer. I turn white as a ghost. I immediately get a coat hanger and a trashbag and order E.Shrew to erradicate the vermin. "Why me?" he shrewdly asks. I instantly on the spot ordained him as the man of the house. And as the man of the house, it is his duty to protect it's inhabitants.

E.Shrew pulls the drawer out and once again we see the ghastly creature. I panic all over again and fumble around with the flash light, trash bag and the coat hanger. I get yelled out for being clumsy and almost squandering the opportunity. E.Shrew tries to hook the fleeing snake, but the little demon spawn successfully crawls away into a side crack. I am HOWLING with fury that once again the snake escapes a capture.

Last night, I had the uneviable task of trying to go to sleep in my bed right next to the bathroom where the snake is hiding out in. For extra protection, I dressed in socks, warm up pants, underwear, and a t-shirt. Hey... that has to help out in case of a snake bite! I expertly placed Boudreaux in my right arm and Pierre in my left arm as I got into my sleep position. If that snake was going to crawl out the hole and up into my bed, then surely having two Dachshunds next to me would serve as some sort of alert system. (or at least I was praying it would)

Then it happened. At precisely 11:45pm, I was jarred awake by a loud DROPPING sound in the shower. It was not caused by the air conditioner beginning to run or shutting down. It was a loud sound in the eery silence of the night. I screamed (like a girl again) and jumped out of bed with my flashlight. I could feel all the hairs on my head stand up. I had goose bumps all over my body. Finding nothing, I quickly relocated myself and my Dachshund children to my computer room where a small bed rests on drawers five feet high. I would surely be safer in a place where I do my Jiggy dances.

Finally managing to go to sleep, I was awakened this morning by my cell phone's alarm. I had a great feeling of dread that I had to re-enter my master bedroom and bathroom to get ready for work this morning. With a flashlight in my hand, I surveyed all corners and watched every space I stepped on. Within a few minutes, every light in the house was turned on. Every unexplained sound gave me instant goose bumps. Ahhh... the joys of paranoid delusions. Wait, no... it's called Ophidiophobia.

Weekend Recap

E. Shrew and I are now getting back to our regular routine of splitting our time between the country and the French Quarter in New Orleans. With his brother back to Europe after a couple months, we are now settling back down into the couples routine.

On Friday, E.Shrew cooked the most delicious meal. I am always begging him to cook this wonderful chicken dish with capers, and he gave in and cooked it for me again. We settled in my house in the country, and watched Nanny Mcphee. It was practically the only pay per view choice on Friday. It was a cute movie. I had the hardest time watching it though because those British actors and actresses are just not very easy on the eyes. Thank God Emma Thompson gets beautiful at the end of the movie.

Saturday was marked by a boat ride and a chicken photo-op. E.Shrew had misgivings about taking our chickens and posing with them on camera. I was like, "We are not fucking them... we are just taking pictures with them!" Fortunately, we haven't been contacted by any animal rights activist for kissing and hugging on our fair feathered friends. There was a terrific thunderstorm move through our area Saturday evening that knocked out our power. We didn't let that ruin our good time though. We went to this wonderful dinner/pool party across the river in our home parish. Jefferey and Michael had a beautiful house, great food, and great drinks. I wouldn't have invited that loudmouthed John, but this was their dinner party. (JOKING) We had a frolicking good time in the pool with a bunch of fun guys.

On Sunday, we slept in late as we recovered from the previous hard night of revelry. I drank a lot of wine and Mojitos at that party. Boy was I feeling it yesterday morning! E.Shrew and I chased those hangover blues with some Greek and Lebanese food in the parish. Awww... nothing like a gyros sandwich and hommus to chase away that headache. I then laid down on a bed, as I hugged my children (Boudreaux and Pierre) and listened to the entire Wicked CD.

I reconnected with E.Shrew in New Orleans for a night on the town. As part of our routine, we always buy our first drinks at Lafittes. To my utter amazement, I stumbled across the infamous Jukebox Clique! Recently, the shit hit the fan with a local bear organization. So, being the shit stirrer I am, I dozied over to three members of the Jukebox Clique and I made my presence known. I was like "OH MY GAWD! LOOK! The Jukebox Clique!" Steely eyes rained daggers down on me for that comment! (lol) Subject was avoided, and I was quickly told that I have to stop doing the Jiggy Dances because they saw my last one (Son of a Preacher Man Jiggy Dance) and it was just wrong! Well, I didn't feel the pressures of the clique. I stood my ground. I firmly let them know that those Jiggy Dances are here to stay because they represent that I don't take myself too seriously.

For a clique, I found the Jukebox clan harmless. I don't really think they are a clique anyway. I just know that I can personally hug on, tug on, sit on their laps, and make conversation with them as long as I like. They do tend to stay in the same spot all the time. Instead of being a clique, perhaps they are merely getting older and simply choose to stay put in one spot? When SOMEBODY in the group proved to me that they were 7 years younger than moi, it was time to move on to The Bourbon Pub. Grrr...

So that was the weekend recap folks. I am well rested and ready to begin my workweek.

Our Rugrats Spent the Weekend in the Country

Boat Ride in the Swamps of Louisiana

It was a hot and steamy day today, but we took the rugrats on their first boat ride. This is on an elbow lake (stretches out 15 miles) at a camp near my house. The boys had a great time. We saw so many gigantic Louisiana blue egrets, but unfortunately they flew away before we could snap their pictures. This was a fun day to see birds, swamps, moss, and lots of cypress trees.

Chicken F*ckers

Our chickens are very special to us. No... we don't really fuck them. We just give them a little more attention than an ordinary chicken would expect. They are like our pets. Every other day, I let them out of the chicken pen so they can go root out some worms and bugs. I pick them up and pet them as if they were a dog or a cat.

I spoil our chickens as much as I do my dogs and that boyfriend named E.Shrew. Now is there something inherently wrong about these pictures to you?!?! Well... what do you expect from this blog? I am not blind. I read the comments that suggest I am batshit crazy! Am I really crazy? Naaa... I like to think I am brightening up your mundane blog experience.

A Collective Groan

Just when you thought George Dubya's re-election caused you great heartburn and gas, this came along to create a collective groan heard around the world.

Hey, I can't help it! If you guys posted a million pictures of yourselves AND threw pity parties about your aging beauty, then you too may one day achieve this great honor. Well, perhaps not. ;)

Thank you Best Gay Blogs for the BIG SURPRISE! I humbly bow and promise to blow whoever made the decision to pick me. You bet your ass that I have been known to blow judges to advance in beauty competitions! Hey... it's tough down here in the South. We are all raised to be Miss Crawfish Festival Queen this and Miss Swamp Gator Queen that.

Once a Whipping Boy... ALWAYS a Whipping Boy!

I haven't played tennis in almost four months. Ever since the disappointing rainout in Austin in early March, I swore off tennis for good. I let my tennis play fall by the wayside, so I could ramp up my workouts.

Well this afternoon, I finally had a match against my old arch-nemesis Whipping Boy. He had been practicing with a buttbuddy of his in New Orleans. I haven't played squat. When we were warming up, I got nervous. Whipping Boy was hitting very hard and very accurately. My shots were hit hard too... but WAY off the mark. I was shitting. I had the scary feeling that it was going to be a slaughter... and I was going to be the one slaughtered.

Whipping Boy was sharp as he rattled off three straight victories and had a 3-0 lead in the first set. I had the red-ass. I was NOT going down like this! I was NOBODY'S WHIPPING BOY! Well, Whipping Boy tried his damnest to deny me one single victory, for he knew that one victory was all I needed to fuel a string of victories on his ass.

And then it came... a miraculous streak that was fueled by pure hatred of losing. I was numb on adrenaline as I used intense concentration, strategy and a surging self-confidence to seize the reigns from my impending doom.

And boy did I! I rattled off NINE straight victories on his ass before he knew what hit him. I won the first set 6-3, and was leading 3-0 in the second set before Whipping Boy snatched another victory. That wouldn't be matched again until it was far too late. Whipping Boy succumbed to a 6-2 loss in the second set. I won in straight sets 6-3, 6-2 in just under an hour of play.

NEW TENNIS SEASON RANKINGS:
1. Brett (1-0)
.
.
.
99. Whipping Boy (0-1)

To get on this tennis rankings chart, you have to play me.

PS: Don't feel too sorry for Whipping Boy. Me winning in this fashion just says that all is back right in the universe!

Happy Pride Month

In my own special way, I try to carry a torch to stand up for my rights to others in my local community. I have always tried to be myself. I am proud to be out to my community, co-workers and family. Thanks Kelly for having this great idea.

POLL: IS BRETTCAJUN A WHACKJOB?

74% think Brett is NOT a whackjob.

POLL IS CLOSED

Delta Dawn

Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on
Could it be a faded rose from days gone by
And did I hear you say he was a-meeting you here today
To take you to his mansion in the sky

She's forty-one and her daddy still calls her "baby"
All the folks around Brownsville say she's crazy'
Cause she walks around town with a suitcase in her hand
Looking for a mysterious dark-haired man

In her younger days they called her Delta Dawn
Prettiest woman you ever laid eyes on
Then a man of low degree stood by her side
And promised her he'd take her for his bride

Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on
Could it be a faded rose from days gone by
And did I hear you say he was a-meeting you here today
To take you to his mansion in the sky

Personal Commentary: I don't want to be a Delta Dawn. Lord, please protect me from going crazy and have the town folk talking about me. I realize that I am a typical looks-obsessed gay man. May I one day stop being so hard on myself and appreciate the beauty and the wonderfulness that is Brett. Let me not spend too much time down that path called narcissism. Allow me to age with beauty and grace, and appreciate what is already present for all to see.

A Day at the Dog Park

It is a hot and sweltering day in New Orleans. Michael and I took Boudreaux, Pierre, and Jack to the dog park nearby.

Friday Night Dinner Party

I may not be rich, but I feel very wealthy from my quality of friends I have. This has been shown to me over and over again in the last few days.

Last night, we had the most wonderful dinner with friends at E.Shrew's "batchelor pad". Brian Shrew, brother of E.Shrew, cooked a very delicious gourmet meal and was the hostess with the mostest. What a very pleasant evening! Brian Shrew and E. Shrew worked their asses off to have a very nice get together. We were joined by the always charming and humorous Joe, and also a very handsome couple Brian and Greg. Yes, Joe is handsome too... but I don't want to make his head any bigger than his cock. (so it is rumored)

Thanks to Brian, Michael, and company for a great evening!

Sinful Gluttony

I sinfully pigged out last night on: two ice cold Bud Lites in frozen mugs, fried shrimp, stuffed shrimp, stuffed crab, hushpuppies, stuffed mushrooms and Mississippi mud pie. As a result of my pigfest, I ended up tossing and turning all night because my belly was not used to eating that much (even in my buddha-belly days!). But hey... it was my birthday... and I was celebrating it with my twin brother, his wife, their son, and a woman with the same birthday as ours named Jenny. No, Jenny and I were NOT on a date.

With my Catholic guilt working overtime from my sinful gluttony, I hauled my fat gut to the gym this morning for a grueling leg workout. I went up on all my weights. I was determined to repent from the previous night sins of overindulgence. And repent I did! I did between thirty to forty-five reps of: 140# ab machine, 320# calf raises, 160#'s hamstring leg extensions, and 160#'s quad leg extensions. I even willed my sinful self to finish off the leg workout doing 30 reps of squats at 360#'s.

That made me feel proud. I am convinced God rewarded me by purposively sending that handsome Hispanic man, who I mentioned last Friday, passing by right when my legs were up in the air on a leg press machine. He just smiled and winked and my heart went pitter patter. Maybe he is really my guardian angel looking over me and that wink was just simply a "good job!". Hmmm.... who am I kidding? As much as I can fantasize about him being my guardian angel, he is sadly a mere mortal. How do I know? I distinctly remember him bitching about having to work overtime to support his wife's spending habits a few weeks ago. Sounds just like any typical male at my gym. They all bitch about their wives spending, then turn around and talk about how they are buying a new fishing boat or a truck.

So, now I am at work on "Dress Down Friday" in my Lucky shirt and my long shorts I wore to the gym. I totally forgot to bring my dress clothes with me to work. I am soooo glad my boss and my boss's favorite son is drag racing in Texas right now. Whew! Off the hook! Another reward for my grueling leg workout. I am truly blessed today!

Awww.... you guys are the best!

Imagine my surprise today when I clicked on Tony's blog. Awww... Tony ... that was just the sweetest post ever! That was as moving and sweet as a post that Sean once did for me long ago when I just found myself suddenly single. Tony, your picture choice was excellent too! Thank you very much buddy. I need to hire you as my PR REP when The Dirty Dish boys go to pouncing! Thank You! Thank You! Thank You!

And I would also like to thank all of you bloggers out there that have wished me a Happy Birthday in my previous post. That lifted my spirits. Hey... with friends like you guys...maybe 36 years old wont be so bad! Thank you guys... I am truly touched. :)

Tomorrow is the Most Depressing Day of the Year

June 15th used to be the most wonderful day of the year for me. But as the decades have gone swiftly by, the dreadful day that is the 15th of June has fallen completely out of favor with me. It has fallen so out of favor with me that I now deem tomorrow as The Most Depressing Day of the Year. Last year, I posted this on my blog: Take Me Out to the Pasture and Shoot Me...

I must have had a premonition as a young gay man how important aging would be for me. I only tended to date men in their late 30's or in their 40's. My friends were ALL older than me. In fact, by my standards, they were older than dirt. But I have somehow slipped up in my control in the last couple of years. I have foolishly let myself befriend others that are (SNIFF SNIFF) younger than me. And now I have to stand proud in the face of their evil little taunts that they will forever be younger than moi.

Where have all the years gone? How will I cope with the fact that tomorrow I will be MORE than halfway to 40 years old? Excuse me folks... (SOBBING)... I'll get through this. I have had far more challenges in my life that I have had to overcome. Being older than dirt is just going to have to be another.

Le Grand Poulailler

Yesterday, E.Shrew and I worked hard all day building a chicken pen and a roost for the chickens. We initially wanted to construct the grandest chicken coop ever made, but five minutes in that hot Louisiana summer sun, and we were like "fuck it!"

After a few redesigns and trips back and forth to Home Depot, we finally built something that we are proud of. It is simple and neat. It works. Notice that we are using two plastic "Saw Horses" to build the legs for the coop. The chickens nest on top of their incubator pens. I can even go ahead and get some more baby chicks and house them right in the incubator pens. Their coop is protected from the sun and rain on top by two sheets of tin. Today, we have to secure that tin roof and do something with chicken wire over the rest of the pen.

All Made Back to Good...

I want to thank all you guys who have left comments or sent me personal email about my previous post. I just wanted to say that all was made better that night. I got an apology. We had a long talk. And then the most incredible make up sex. You would not believe how great the other's skin feels when you have make up sex. The raw energy and passion generated after being so pissed off is something close to Euphoria. So... all is good! :)

Passive Aggressive Tendencies

As I was at the gym this morning for the fifth day in a row, I got a pleasant surprise. I was resting from a third set of incline dumbell hammer curls. A very nice looking and wellbuilt Hispanic man with a goatee (Meeeeooooooowwww) rested his hand on my shoulder and said to me "It's Friday... you can get through this." I just smiled and thanked him. While I probably looked drained from a grueling workout to this kind stranger, I had other things on my mind.

See... a person who I care deeply about really disappointed me last night. We had plans tonight, but he apparently forgot and made plans with other people. I was not invited to attend the dinner engagement. So, now I am feeling blue. I feel like I am a second class citizen in my own friendship. What's worse... I only see this special friend on weekends. I get all my exercise, all my eating right, all my cleaning house, all my cutting grass, all my bill paying, all my going through mail, all my blogging, all my emailing, all my chatting, and all my celibacy done during the week. I do this so I can devote all of my time to this special friend. Yet, lately every weekend brings an event that I am excluded from. It takes away four hours of my time our time together. Well.. now I am feeling passive aggressive. I feel like being destructive tonight.

I will take the handsome Hispanic man's words of encouragement under advisement. "It is Friday... you can get through this"

* Note All Comments on My Blog Have Been Set to Hidden for the Time Being

Finally Doing Something About that Beer Belly...

No more excuses! I came to the shocking conclusion that I, GASP, was getting a beer belly. Yes... it is shocking. Genetically, all the men in my family have beer bellies. My twin brother and my father REALLY have one. My friend John in Po Allen has suddenly got one too! Well, I am sorry, but I was not about to be another sad beer belly statistic!

Last night, I did a grueling leg workout AND a 45 minute spinning class with a female nazi spinning instructor. Boy I am sore. I should have never worn boxers to spinning class. Everytime we had to get in the "Third Position" and push my butt in the air... my balls would drag and hit that bike seat hard. OUCH! Every 10 seconds, I was goosing myself from behind with the front tip of the bike seat. No... it wasn't pleasurable. This class was brutal, but I was so proud of myself.

With a looming photo shoot on Friday, I need to continue to burn off massive calories this week. Aint nobody gonna wanna see belly in a photo spread. This aint some photo shoot from Bedford, Indiana folks!

Living in a Cardio Queen World

As a weightlifter, I am ingesting more and more protein so I can get more muscular. But now I suddenly find myself at a precipice. I MUST do cardio lest my belly will grow to Buddha-like proportions. Admittedly... I LOATHE doing anything cardio related unless sex is involved or it is a sport where I am given points.

Since I have had a falling out with Whipping Boy, I haven't played any tennis in many moons. I miss have a whipping boy. Something about the rush of crushing an opponent and bringing him down to his knees gave me such an awesome air of superiority and personal satisfaction. I loved it. Yes, I am that bad.

I can't help it. MY MOTTO: LOSING IS FOR LOSERS! I hate to lose at anything. Losing ignites a fuel in my belly that riles me up and sets me on a path of rising to the challenge and eventually conquering said opponent. Homer, Moby and Tony were thankfully spared that ugly side of me in SF. I would have been booted back to the bayous of Louisiana in a heartbeat the minute I began to gloat and sing "We are the Champions" afterwards.

Either I find another whipping boy, make up with THE Whipping Boy, or I have to start doing boring old cardio. My ego is pulling for me to find a sport to get obsessed with again. I need to conquer something. I need that familiar adrenaline flow through my blood stream as I stare down my opponent. Opening up a can of whoopass on some poor bastard always served some need of mine.

Time to shit or get off the pot. I WILL do cardio this weekend dammit! Any whipping boys want to volunteer?

Doing Darin Tonight...

I raced to the gym this morning to do a grueling leg workout. I couldn't stop thinking of my date tonight with Phoenix's most prolific mouthy evildoer named Darin. I rattled off some ideas yesterday, but any chance for democracy on an APNH podcast was quickly snuffed out. This bitch cooly told me in no uncertain terms that she was in control. I was at her mercy in this upcoming podcast. The Control Queen in me was unnerved. It's feels like playing a tennis game without a racquet.

So many thoughts are swirling in my head right now. Will this simply be a lighthearted chat? Or will Darin impale me with a barrage of epithets. Or he could get very randy on me! Afterall, I have been known to stir the shit and poke fun at him and his cronies.

Can Slab come out to play? Or will he be stuffed in some chute hole never to come up for air again? Will there be payback for my jabs at why he really had laryngitis? Hmmm... so many possible scenarios. So many things to ponder.

God... I really like being in control of all elements of my life. Giving Darin the wizard's wand tonight will either be beautiful or downright UGLY. Dammit... I don't like surprises!

BREAKING NEWS: DATE WITH DARIN POSTPONED UNTIL SUNDAY