Las Vegas Show Girls and Kylie

Tomorrow, I am jetting off to Las Vegas to spend four fabulous nights in Sin City. Chris from PA will be joining me. He's a Las Vegas virgin, so I will be his Pimp and tour guide.

The highlight of the trip is the Kylie Minogue concert on Saturday at the Palms Casino. Jimbo is gonna be jealous. I am seeing Kylie before he does. Bwahaha. Suck it bitch!

The one Kylie song that captures my very essence is: I Believe in You. Yeah, it's a very gay song, but I am too damn manly to give a shit what you think!

Charlie Brown Kicks the Ball

As a man of integrity, I must report on a miracle occurence. Four years of domination and a three hundred game winning streak came to an abrupt end last night. It was quite a stunning feat considering the lopsided series.

Whipping Boy shocked me by winning 6-4, 6-3. WTF just happened?! It was a total sucker punch. Is this what it feels like to lose a football game to the Maryland Terps?

My first instinct was to kill myself. I eventually dismissed suicide and settled on wanting to punch something or someone. WARNING: I'm still in angry bitch mode, so please no taunting text messages. I know where you live. CRACKING KNUCKLES.

The cold hard fact is that I have now lost three straight tennis matches. This does not bode well for me considering the Texas Open XXX begins next week. Fuckity Fuck Fuck Fuck!!!

Dear Comment Troll:

Comment Troll Alert

Is the Comment Troll a German? Today, someone matching this IP address was on my blog for over two hours. Three separate sources pulled the same exact IP address at the time a comment about me was posted on their blogs. Here it is the IP information:

VISITOR ANALYSIS
Referrer http://brettcajun.blogspot.com/
Host Name p4FC7686C.dip.t-dialin.net
IP Address 79.199.104.108 [Label IP Address]
Country Germany
Region Hessen
City Darmstadt
ISP Deutsche Telekom Ag
Returning Visits 0
Visit Length 2 mins 51 secs

Some nose picking Troll posted a list disparaging me today. They must really hate me because it was posted on at least 12 other blogs! NICE. Thankfully, I have blogger buds that have my back. All kindly removed that nasty list.

Sulu... can you please raise our shields? Comment moderation is now in full effect on this blog. I am advising other bloggers to be mindful of a Troll on the loose. Set guns to kill. Trolls don't deserve stun mode.

Bama Who?

If I have to hear one more time how Alabama is the class of the SEC from those ass kissers at ESPN, I am gonna BARF. They beat Virginia Tech. Whoopty Doo. The ACC is not a real football conference anyway. Who else did Alabama beat? Florida International and North Texas. REAL JUGGERNAUTS!

We'll see if Nick Saban's team is any good when they play high powered Arkansas in Tuscaloosa. This will be quite the offensive firework display.

In the meantime, I will be relaxing enjoying my LSU Tigers kicking Mississippi State's ass. Put your cowbells down Rusty... your team don't stand a chance. Grrr....

What a Loser!

I walked onto the courts feeling pretty confident. I had sized up my opponent and incorrectly judged him to be an older version of me. We were the same height, muscular, and both very manly.

My strategy was to play very aggressively, hit hard, and attack the net at times when it was smart to do so. Unfortunately, the older me played the exact same way.

The big flaw in my game was that I kept hitting right to my opponent (as if he were a magnent). I tried to go down the line a few times, but quit after losing confidence.

So, I lost in the Flex League Playoffs 7-5, 6-2. I am just one big loser. This does NOT bode well for the upcoming Texas Open XXX in Dallas in 2 1/2 weeks. Arrgggh!

Pimp Me Out

I gave permission to the good folks in Dallas to use my image for a Texas Open XXX advertisement. It will be part of a massive email campaign.

I like that my picture is put under the title "Match?". Hmm... will I end up getting a few dates out the deal? Devilish grin.

One day I'll find a match who is: not an alcoholic/has a personality/likes dogs/athletically inclined/horndog/likes football/non-smoker/hairy/out of closet/not fucked up in the head.

Alan Cumming: I Bought a Blue Car Today

Being a blogger can be a rewarding experience. Media companies find you and offer you free stuff to review. Some of it is crap, some are truly gems. It was through this means that I was introduced to the great Patty Griffin.

When Alan Cumming's I Bought a Blue Car Today arrived in my mailbox, I was intrigued. I first noticed Alan Cumming as Fegan Floop from a Spy Kids movie. "It's a Cool Cruel World" always intrigued me.

Before the peanut gallery roasts me for being an idiot, I am fully aware that Alan Cumming is a Tony Award winning performer. Just because I am from the South and have an extreme love for football, does not make me a cultural retard. I have seen many of his stage performances on YouTube and they are quite awe inspiring.

With that said, I have been playing Alan Cumming's CD in my SUV for the last three days. My first impression: WOW! You can really detect his Scottish accent on the CD!

Whereas I may be a talentless whore, Alan Cumming is not. He has quite the beautiful voice. There is a passion to his singing that is quite awe inspiring. My favorite songs on the CD are: WIG IN A BOX/WICKED LITTLE TOWN, DON'T TELL ME, WHERE I WANT TO BE, and MEIN HEIR.

Hearing Alan sing Dolly Parton's Here You Come Again will have you in stiches. If you are like me, you have heard Dolly's version a million times. Hearing it with a Scottish accent will make you chuckle. In comparison, I am sure my twangy voice on any song would elicit the same response.

If you are an Alan Cumming fan, please checkout his new album I Bought a Blue Car Today.

It's Gonna Get Rough

Eight of us have passed the challenge. We have made the Flex League Playoffs. We were the best out of twenty-one players spread across three divisions.

Tonight, my first round foe is gonna hear that can of whoopass ripped wide open the moment he walks on the court. I am highly confident because I have beaten him before.

The only thing standing between me and that trophy is some punk ass 22 year old sitting on the other side of the bracket. He already won his first round match and finished the league season with a pretty 6-0 record. (including a victory over me) I'll be goddamn if he relegates me to a second rate lounge act... AGAIN!

Tonight will serve notice for everyone in the Flex playoffs. I'm meaner than ever and I coming for you motherfuckers! Grr...

Love My Chick

My baby chicks are getting bigger! Check out this video to see just how big one of them is. Of course, I am cementing my status as the crazy chicken man. Oh well.

By the way, that is Patti Page singing in the background of the video. This is from the Audiophile Records, I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire album.

A Place in the Sun

Everybody got somebody. Except for me. I am just sitting here with a dog named Boudreaux and one I call Pierre. We've got nobody else to keep us warm, and that's just fine.

Being single has afforded me the opportunity to see a broader picture. I connect the dots and learn something about myself. I learn about others in my past too. I can now see them clearly for who they are.

The wise Donna Fargo once sang, "You can't be a beacon if your light don't shine". I subscribe to that belief -- often to the disdain of others. I refuse to be captured, tucked away, and put on some shelf. I am happiest when my light shines bright.

Can two people truly co-exist in a relationship where their individual spirits are allowed to glow? Or will fate forever conspire to dim that which is special in each of us? That is where my real worries lay.

Until I can trust another, I am content flying solo and untethered. I have my own place in the sun, and that spirit yearns to keep shining bright. Shine on firefly. Shine on.

Gay Bear Morph

I am no longer a skinny tennis player. I am steadily morphing into a gay bear. This happened because I have been taking creatine and ingesting more protein daily. Umm... is this weight gain a good thing?

Playing with the Cards Dealt

Believe it or not, I have matured greatly in the past year. That maturity has manifested itself in surprising places. For example, I no longer attach so much of my self worth to winning or losing. Nowadays, losing is accepted with grace and dignity. (The peanut gallery shouts BULLSHIT!)

The tennis gods want to fuck with my new found maturity. When I peeked at tonight's schedule, I discovered I am playing my bitter gay rival in doubles. Something deep inside me begin to stir. The blood running through my veins flashed to venom. NOT HIM!

How did he get the distinction of being my bitter gay rival? On one fateful day at Highland Park, I overheard my opponent say... "Don't worry -- I beat these clowns all the time." If I were Joe Wilson, I would have screamed "YOU LIE!"

The match was not pretty. In fact, my poor doubles partner begged and pleaded with me to behave. I remember zinging backhands and forehands near my foes ears. I would say, "What's the matter? You can't return back a forehand either?" I am surprised a fist fight didn't break out.

Since then, I have faced my bitter gay rival on three other occasions. Every single match has been balls-to-the-wall tense affairs. He has an awesome serve that puts fear into the hearts of others. I am extremely talented at the net and have the athletic prowess to chase down ANY ball.

As I type this, the whites of my eyes have turned a wicked black. My sword is ready to slay. Stay tuned for either a gloating winner or a blabbering crybaby.

Cracking knuckles...

Mama Makes Us Go "Hmm..."

My mother has painted all of her life. She sells paintings and even has some of her work in local art galleries. But her latest creation has stumped everyone in the family.

We are like, "I DON'T GET IT!" I stare at her painting and try to find meaning. What is the subject? I thought it was an allegory. Perhaps the chairs symbolize friendship? Three friends sitting together? She said that her subject is light.

I am like, "Can't you put an animal in one of the chairs? How about a teddy bear?" She throws her hands up like I am an idiot.

Her painting was based on this photograph. As you can see, she drew lines on the picture to help bring it to life on the canvas:

What do you guys think? Was this a boo boo? Or is it art?

Southern Decadence

While some may view Southern Decadence as nothing more than the height of debauchery and unbridled sex romps, I have a different view. Southern Decadence is a celebration of kindred spirits and friendship.

I began my Southern Decadence holiday at the Country Club. Upon my arrival, I gasped... "OH DEAR". The notorious Bienville Boys were in the pool with none other than the Mobile Pierced Cock Brigade. Shit. They are going to sully my pristine reputation!

I struck up a conversation with Hairy Butt from the Mobile Pierced Cock Brigade. According to this Southern Belle, my YouTube videos were enjoyable because it showed a different side to me. I graciously thanked him, but the comment gnawed at me. Subtlety is part of Southern conversation. Was he subtly saying I am dreadfully boring in person? Cocktail!

The events that unfolded afterwards are mere rumor and tabloid fodder. My PR Team worked overtime to squash any damaging stories. It almost worked too, but then some drunkenass cheered and clapped when I walked into Rawhide with a friend that very same day. Doh!

An infamous "Porn Star" at the Country Club:

When I wasn't resting at Our Lady of Perpetual Tranquility, so wrongly referred to as the "Trick Pad", I was advised to walk around with a wholesome look. I enjoyed being squeaky clean right in the middle of two very hunky Ohio boys named Donald and Brian. This photo caught a rare moment when I was NOT being cockblocked by Matt's booty:

A highlight of the trip was carousing with the very sweet and innocent Carlos. If he looks familiar to you, Carlos is the former houseboy of TJ and Rob:

Since Carlos was practically a New Orleans virgin, I took him under my wing. I fed him, bathed him, and tried to teach him right from wrong. We had many joyful adventures together. It was nice to just hang out and chill with fellow buds Patrick (the whore) and John (the lumberjack).

Southern Decadence brought out so many people. These Hogwart Gurls were going around casting spells at everyone. We ran away screaming whenever their wands were out because "hog warts" were not something any of us wanted:

I would like to thank the Inn Keepers that housed me at Our Lady of Perpetual Tranquility. Those two old nuns took good care of me and my dogs. They fed us well and were in constant prayer and song for my soul. They were even so kind as to give shirts to the Bienville Boys when they lost theirs on some spooge stained floor. Now that's what friendship is all about! ;)

Chick Update

Bad Court Behavior

As cuddly and lovable as I can be, I am a competitive asshole on the tennis courts. I literally thought my doubles partner was going to put his racquet strings around my neck with one mighty bludgeon.

On two memorable points, I raced left and right returning back sure winners by the other team. They were amazing rallies that showed off my athletic prowess... until my doubles partner contributed by muffing the points.

I screamed, "COME ON TOM!!!" I had never seen someone turn so red. I was in imminent danger of being impaled by a yellow ball at the hands of my own doubles partner. Gulp! The other team stood by silently and watched the spectacle unfold.

We actually played very well together, but ended up losing 3-6, 6-3, 7-6. I am not sure my doubles partner has forgiven my bratty outbursts yet. Sigh.