Kathy Bates Has A Bulge:

Admit it. We can all be Kathy Bates' character Annie in Misery. "I'll get your stupid paper, but you better show me a little more appreciation, Mister Man!" Boyfriends drive us so cray cray at times that we have no choice but to take a sledgehammer to them.

Here I was... not feeling appreciated. I'd stay home on weekends with pups watching Netflix. He'd be out in the Austin bars doing God-knows-what with God-know-who. I am sorry, but it's not okay for 40 year olds to spend a lot of time in bars. It's NOT healthy and it'll only make you look like a leathery lounge lizard which is not what I signed up for!

So, my preachy self took my own sledgehammer out via a swimsuit pic, which I intended to post on Facebook. I typically crop pics and only smear away electrical outlets or door frames. This time, I played with the "bulge" tool.

An inner voice whispered, "Don't you dare post this altered pic!" My inner Kathy Bates hissed, "COCKADOODIE. Swing that sledgehammer and hit the bitch between her beady eyes!"

And oh what a hit it was! The pic generated 34 likes and 46 comments in less than 24 hours. People who I regularly stalk were now messaging me. Old buds suddenly remembered my existence. New people were suddenly taking an interest because I was bulging with new muscle! ((GASP)) I was in my very own Drew Barrymore movie! Whatta I do?!

In good conscience, I had to come clean.

The titillation and attention was nice, but I didn't want to be asked 1,000 times if I shrunk in my very next public appearance. Afterall, Southern Decadence is only 5 weeks away. Talk about awkward! CRINGE :(

My boyfriend is still pissed I showed off the enhanced bod yesterday. I was given the "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Joan Crawford angry shake. Isn't that child abuse? In my defense, I was simply delivering a REALITY CHECK. I'm special too and deserve to be treated as such goddammit!

Still Kicking:

Yeah, I'm 42... but I'm still active playing lots of tennis and working out with a trainer three times a week. I would dare say that I am the healthiest that I have ever been. At a recent Doctors appointment, my blood pressure was 110/70, good cholesterol 59, bad cholesterol 115, weight 170#'s (with clothes and shoes on). The Doctor said to keep doing what I'm doing!

Not Forgotten:

 

I knew the day was coming, but I purposely did not do the calculation in my head. The special event has always been exactly one month and 8 days after mine. I was curious, but I avoided pinpointing the date to avoid the emotional gloom it would bring. My late ex-partner, Tommy Foster, would have turned 50 years old yesterday. 

I got texts from Tommy's ex-wife, who has kept in touch, confirming that yesterday was his birthday. She sent me pictures of their 23 year old son Matthew releasing balloons into the air to celebrate his birthday. It was very touching and moving. Tommy may be gone, but he will never be forgotten. 

Tommy's death has haunted me. It has been over a year since I gave his Eulogy, which I still keep a copy safely tucked away in the same suit pocket where it has rested all this time. 

I continue to take Tommy's death hard thinking of him most every day. Usually, it's when I go to bed. He was there when I first got Boudreaux and Pierre as puppies. Having them there in bed with me helps connect me to Tommy and brings me comfort. 

Tommy, if you can somehow read this, please know that you are always thought of down here. I miss your vibrancy, friendship, and loving spirit. You will always be cherished for the person you are. It's been an honor to have shared a part of our lives together. You still reside in my heart and will always be there.

Don't ask me "WHY?!" I always seem to look to the left in pics. It's not like I am vain and have a BEST SIDE like Mariah Carey. For the record, if you scroll down, you'll see that I look to the left AND the right. I do personally think I look better in a side pose than looking straight on at the camera. So, if anyone can say anything... it's that I prefer to pose looking to the side. I guess I like displaying my beard. Mmmkay?

IT HAPPENS:

There are universal truths we readily accept one day, then discard as phooey when we are thus enlightened. Take Pope Benedict XIV for example. No matter how pious our dear Pope purports to be, his actions show us time and time again that he is a DICK. The Pope and Vatican have fallen woefully out of touch with social values in the modern world. While a third of all U.S. Catholics leave the Church, the Pope is in a complete state of denial about the reasons why. It's not us that need changing, it's them!

On a similar note, others could accuse ME of being in a state of denial. For years, I have gone off on diatribes spouting a belief that I did not need a relationship to be happy. I viewed any couple as two individuals who couldn't stand on their own and needed another person to feel complete. Eww... WEAK! I could justify my singlehood with ease:

1. I can take care of myself and don't need any financial support.
2. Crying is for babies and I never cry, so I certainly don't need a shoulder to cry on!
3. I decide what I wanna do and when I wanna do without having to negotiate or be nagged by another.
4. My dogs love me unconditionally. If I need sex, then I can find that easily too. Why do I need a partner?

Those are purely selfish reasons. In a relationship, I find myself a better man. I make sure the house is clean, the refrigerator well stocked, and I even forgo tennis matches out of consideration. (GASP!) Winning becomes less important as the Terminator act is dropped. I become more warmly human. I can't even harness the bitter and jadedness to become a super hero bereft of weak human feelings anymore.

Hmm... maybe there is something good to this thing called "a relationship". I'll keep exploring this brave new world and get back to you.

XOXO,

Brett

Reelz Life with Brettcajun:

There comes a time when one must walk away from life's distractions in the pursuit of happiness. As Americans, we are bombarded daily with NOISE. Our lives become consumed with turmoil between our political parties, hopes of becoming the next Top Chef, or prodded like lemmings into movie theatres to see "Magic Mike".

I want solitude and to be left alone.

I do check myself however from crossing over to the land of bitterness. When I hang on the cuspis of becoming Jimbo, I back away from the ledge. I am NOT a bitter and angry basement dwelling troll crabby cuz I'm dodging bullets, bears with pot-breath, or ambulances carrying beatup/ODed prostitutes to the hospital in Shaw!

People can tolerate spending more than five minutes around Brettcajun.

Take "Mean Cub" for example. He is still lapping up all the ooey gooeyness of my awesomeness. :) Apparently, though, it's a challenge for a tennis super star, a bear, and two weiner dogs to lay comfortably on a couch watching movies together without getting hot after 10 minutes.

Unlike Jimbo, I am a people pleaser, so I acted to make Mean Cub's future visits more welcoming! I dusted off the Xbox, which hasn't been used for eternity, and set it up as a television viewing/gaming/Netflix movie watching/jiggy dancing beatbox in a bedroom with a queen sized bed. Voilà!:

I rejoined XBox Live with gamer tag BrettLSUFan, bought Skyrim and the latest Grand Theft Auto video game with expansion packs, and downloaded a buttload of Madonna, LMFAO, and Justin Biebier videos. Yes, I DO jiggy dance around the house, but not Blobby gay-like. I gyrate in a much more masculine and less squishy manner!