Delaware Masturbators March Against O’Donnell « Borowitz Report

I haven't posted for a while, but couldn't pass up this opportunity. My only regret is living so far away. I would have proudly gone to support the masturbating cause. How many people have been infected with AIDS or other diseases by masturbating? Slim to none. Pregnant? About the same. I have no shame or guilt (as the church I grew up in breeds regarding this subject) and believe society as a whole would be better off if we just relaxed and admitted to doing it. Most guys past puberty jerk off (or nearly everyone--making allowance for the one or two freaks who don't). Why not celebrate this avenue of sexual exploration? People make it the forbidden taboo, resulting in a higher curiosity level and experimentation. I believe society as a whole is far too prudish regarding nudity and we'd all be better off to strip off our inhibitions and just present ourselves naturally. That, however, is a different blog rant. Go on...have a wank.

Delaware Masturbators March Against O’Donnell « Borowitz Report

The Truth About Celebrity - Part II

In part I of this Tiger-Beat, Bob Schieffer had some humbling words of advice for our good friend and recently self-described sex addict, Tiger Woods. This week, Tiger staged a public apology where he presented carefully scripted remorse for having cheated on his wife and apparently broken the trust of his fans. For those who have the stomach or are bored enough to watch, please follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xs8nseNP4s0

My thought is that a staged public apology (without questions from the press) is not necessary. Tiger had affairs and cheated on his wife, violating the vows he made with his wife. Tiger did not cheat on me or any of his other fans. I do not need an apology; nor should you, unless you are his wife or children. To be honest, before this "scandal" broke a few months ago, the fact that Tiger even had a penis or sexual needs hadn't come across my mind. Shut up. I didn't. To me, he was an awesome golf player. Tiger made me want to watch golf without scrambling for the remote. The time frame required for him to have sex with so many women meant his golf game was obviously not affected by his behavior. So he had sex. Lots of people do. So what if he is a horny little bastard. How many men are guilty of this? I am. You probably are. The difference is that I can't get a date. I'd like to believe that if I could find a special someone, that I'd respect the hell out of them enough to never cheat, but I'm a sucker for anyone who pays attention to me. This is true especially if they have a bulge in their pants (meaning no dumb girls) and a cute smile.

In my opinion, Tiger owes his wife and his children an apology. He hurt them and needs to work on those relationships. The rest of us should just get on with our lives and leave them alone. Can he still play golf? Sure. When he returns to the game, we know two things will be true: 1) his colleagues and sponsors will be happy again, and 2) we will all be thinking about his sexual antics. We can't help it. If you doubt, see my comment above about being horny bastards. I think we all are. With that being the case, Tiger doesn't need to announce he is going back to sex therapy as mentioned in the press conference. Now he is just feeling sorry for himself. Does knowing Tiger has a penis or that he likes to use it affect my admiration for his awesome skills and natural ability? No. If anything, it makes him a little more real. I won't even say these affairs make him more interesting. You want interesting? Change the story to "Tiger has sex with 15 of his golf buddies" and I'm there.

The Bitter Truth About Celebrity

Bob Schieffer has some great advice for Tiger Woods.


Watch CBS News Videos Online

8: The Mormon Proposition - The Renewed Rebellion

This week, it was announced that 8: The Mormon Proposition would premier next January at The Sundance Film Festival. Reed Cowan, the film's director, explained the Sundance family called this "The Renewed Rebellion." Thank you, Robert Redford and the Sundance staff for taking a stand toward equality for everyone. Please take a few minutes to watch the movie's trailer. If you are interested in seeing the movie at Sundance with me, please let me know. Protests from the Church are expected both in Park City and in Salt Lake. I will be marching on the side of love and respect and dignity.

8: The Mormon Proposition

Below is a link to an article about a film that documents the Mormon church's role in passing Prop 8 in California last year. After reading my comments (please), take a few moments to follow the link and read the article. Is a film documenting a struggle fought during the 2008 campaign relevant this year and in the future? Absolutely. The church did the same thing this year in Maine. Will they fight against your rights in your home town next?

The article states Reed Cowan clashed with his LDS family about the church's views on homosexuality, but it wasn't until he had a conversation with a sibling about her support of Proposition 8 that solidified his need to make the film. Except for the film part, the story mirrors my own. I have always considered myself very close to parts of my family, but this issue has driven a huge wedge between us. Last year, my sister told me her family's salvation must come before any bond we share(d)and how she was sorry that I have chosen a lifestyle contrary to the church's teachings. What? Why would I or anyone deliberately choose to be gay? Please don't get me wrong here. I am very comfortable with all that I am (except the fat part, that can go), meaning I'm proud to be gay. But, why would anyone choose to be an outsider having to fight for rights to keep their jobs, to fair housing, to visit loved ones in the hospital? The argument that anyone would choose to be gay is just as absurd as suggesting an African American living in the deep south in the 1800's would chose to be black just because they thought slavery would be fun. I'm not saying the gays and the African Americans have had the same path for acceptance, but the fight for civil rights follows many of the same struggles regardless of who is doing the fighting. That is why I respect the work of Bayard Rustin so much. He was a key player in the civil rights movement working closely with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.. After he was tossed aside because he was gay, Bayard turned to fighting for gay rights until his death. His is a very moving story that bridges the gaps, showing the similarities between both fights for equality.

This movie documents a significant "trump" card played by the church I grew up in and loved and devoted many years to supporting. I never thought I would fight against the church, but then again, I never imagined they would turn their back on me for something I didn't choose. I support this movie as it shines a light of truth on injustice and blatant, accepted discrimination and hatred. I hope you will join with me in spreading the word about 8: The Mormon Proposition. When it comes out, I hope all of you will go see it with a friend.

Film Documents Mormon Role in Gay Marriage Debate - ABC News

Nailed 'em

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Nailed 'Em - Mormon Church Trespassing
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The Luckiest People...

A friend of mine, Matthew, shared this on Facebook. It made me laugh in spots and say "holy crap" in others. Still, worth sharing. Hope you enjoy.

Bring them In From The Plains...

This is something I hope everyone, but especially my family, will watch and take to heart. I grew up hearing stories of the Martin and Willie Handcart Company and how some of my relatives were rescued. The journey that caught them in such dire straights and the journey to rescue them in very harrowing conditions both took tremendous faith; something I can't claim to have ever had. The rescuers were safe and comfortable in their Salt Lake homes, but courage and faith compelled them out into the storms to help people they didn't even know. Some would not return as they helped others survive.

This story beautifully intertwines that story of courage and bravery and faith with that of many modern saints and pioneers. Will you be the one to leave your safe, comfortable home to help them? How many could have been saved?

How many can still be saved?

A Wizard of Oz reunion

I saw this online and just had to share it. The five remaining cast members recently celebrated the 70th anniversary of The Wizard of Oz. Most of my formative years were before VHS, DVD or Blue Ray. Back in those days, they broadcast The Wizard of Oz once per year. I remember we (meaning my mom) would make a huge pot of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and we'd invite the neighborhood to watch with us. It was really a special evening forever lost to the convenience of modern technology.

An Experiment begins...

Finally, a few minutes to write. It isn't that I'm finally not busy or don't have a hundred things to do. No. I'm sure there are lots of ways I should be spending my time, but fortunately, or unfortunately, my memory just now can't recall what they are. The blog template was open, so it must be time to write. Ok, so I'll write. If you read this and you are the victim of my memory lapse (i.e., we were supposed to meet for lunch or you are having a fabulous party I'm missing, please accept my sincerest apology. Then again, next time, I might very well be at your fabulous party or enjoying lunch with you when I should be somewhere else. Think Lion King and the Circle of Life. I'm listening to the German cast just now. Thanks, Josh.

If there is one thing that people say about me (what? People talk about me?) is that I am musically deficient. When I was a teenager, my mother used to tease me for only listening to LDS artists (Afterglow, Michael McLean, Janice Kapp Perry, etc., etc.). Then again, I tried to be the best little LDS boy ever (except Joe Smith, of course). As I grew older (and wiser?) I turned my focus to soundtracks from Broadway and cinema, connecting to the story and passion and raw emotion behind the songs. Theater is something I figured all people, especially all gay men loved. No. I was sorely mistaken about that, but to this day can't figure out why. Broadway is so magical. When friends would ask about my musical taste or about a specific artist, I'd either simply ask, "Who?" or reply with a phrase from the South Park movie, "I don't listen to hip-hop." I'd tell people, "If it hasn't been on Broadway, I haven't heard it." Of course I've heard other songs and artists in passing, but none enough to commit to memory. Friends at work even teased me one day for not knowing popular artists. I couldn't tell you who they asked about, but do remember feeling a bit insecure for not knowing. Clinging to the whole Broadway phrase just didn't cut it. Apparently there are some artists and groups and songs everyone, even gay guys, should know.

So, an experiment to increase my exposure to music outside of Broadway. At the library, I randomly picked albums from four male artists in different genre strictly based on their covers. I'll admit choosing women artists never crossed my mind. I'll listen to the entire CD (even if I dislike it intensely) and write a little something about them here on the blog. Fun? We'll see.

The first batch included Elton John's The Captain & The Kid. I really like Elton John's The Lion King (movie and Broadway soundtracks), AIDA and Billy Elliot, so I figured this was a safe bet. Can't get crazy and jump into the deep end of the pool. Don't want to drown on my first effort outside Broadway.

About 10 years ago, I had a thing for Ricky Martin. I always wished he would live La Vida Loca with me. At my apartment, I had a Ricky Martin poster on my wall that I enjoyed very much. For this experiment, I tried his 2005 album LIFE.

At work, we had discussed the tragic tale of Kenny Chesney's marriage. Going a little bit Country, I picked his holiday album, "ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS is a real good tan." This album seems to confirm the rumors that he is gay, though I'm not judging. The cover and in fact all pictures in the CD booklet are hot and curiously devoid of women. His songs are interestingly anony-sexual (like Ricky Martin's). Come out already. The water's fine.

The fourth selection was from the Jazz section. The Essential Artie Shaw. Artie died a few years ago, but back in the day, he was huge. He mostly did big band stuff, though he plays a killer clarinet.

Enough introduction. That, and I just remembered I'm supposed to be making potato salad for a BBQ tonight in the canyon. Better run. Once I take a listen, I'll report my findings back here.

A trip to the Fair...

Oh about 30 years ago (yes, hard to believe, but I am that old), I last went to the David County Fair. I had entered a latch hook yarn picture and won a ribbon. When I picked up my picture, I was absolutely thrilled to learn they paid cash money for ribbon winners. Who knew? It wasn't much. Probably not even enough to pay for the latch hook kit (which my mom paid for anyway), but still it was like winning the lottery to me. Back then, the fair was at Lagoon (think Six Flags amusement park, but smaller and less interesting). It has since moved and grown (haven't we all?).

This year, my dad painted a few pictures and had submitted them. Both pictures won ribbons. I knew he had been taking art classes, but didn't realize anything had materialized from them. While growing up, he painted a bit, but hadn't ever submitted to a fair for judging purposes. I was impressed with the pictures. Far better than my latch hook. I've included them here, so take a look.
While at the fair, my mom wanted to see the alligator show. Have you been to one? While I'll admit to enjoying it more than I thought I would, to get a good seat, we sat in the sun (without Kool-Aid refreshment, I might add) for a very long time; the last 15 minutes of which being blasted by country music. Apparently, they wanted people in the next county to feel bad for missing the show. I still hear "My achy-breaky heart" at the most inappropriate moments. Who sings such nonsense? And who likes it enough to validate blowing my eardrums out. It has been a week and I've washed, but think I haven't quite managed to get the "redneck" off.
I took a few videos with my camera. If you listen with the volume at 100%, realizing my camera microphone sucks, you may get a hint for what meant about the sound system. There it is again, "achy breaky heart..." Damn. I suggest adjusting the sound to about 25%.



After the alligator show, we watched Rebecca ride a horse. I wanted a ride as well, but the horse just looked at me and said, "Pleeeese noooo" with his shanking head and fearful "Nay." Check out Rebecca's cool new glasses and haircut. She turns 6 next Wednesday. Boy, how time flies. In the video, (again, I suggest 25% sound) I get Rebecca to waive. While this may not seem like a bad idea and I wasn't trying to cause a problem, other children had been scolded sternly by the horse handlers for not holding tight with both hands. I consider rules that don't suit my particular artistic interests to be more of a suggestion. They didn't want to be sued if a child should fall off. For the record, I'm not encouraging rampant rule-breaking or promoting the endangerment of children.



And finally, we went to the petting zoo portion of the fair. Yes, it smelled something fierce and awful all rolled together. I'll include pictures of Rebecca milking a cow and my mom touching the horn of a very large long-horn bull. I touched it as well, but my camera batteries didn't last that long.
I did get to touch a cow. (Remember the camera adds about 85 pounds) This may satisfy my cow touching quota usually filled at the Utah State Fair (which opens in about three weeks).
I also touched this big fella, but I don't have photographic evidence. Yes, since you probably wondered, I did caress the hump, but not in a sick or twisted way. Everyone was doing it. =)

Obama: Predjudice has no place...

President Obama gave this speech to the NAACP. I feel that he is the first president in a long time who "gets it." I love that he admits there is less discrimination now than ever in this country, which I also believe, but that there is discrimination and prejudice even in 2009. There is not place for such in the United States of America, or anywhere for that matter. It is not right to treat anyone differently because of the color of their skin, who they pray to, whether they buy or make tacos on the corner, or who they love.

Thank you, Mr. President.

Children of the Corn

WELCOME TO WESTFEST 2009

WestFest is our annual celebration that commemorates
the establishment of West Valley City and recognizes
its citizen's various cultural backgrounds.

---------------------

The above information was listed on the official web site for WestFest (http://www.westfest.org/westfest2009.html). In addition to the fireworks, there are carnival rides (which I NEVER ride on for lack of trust in their safety regulations. Don't want to be the next victim on those "Tragedy Caught on Camera" television shows.), local entertainment and both food and retail vendors. Essentially, it is a scaled-down version of the State Fair without the cows. I've been attending WestFest every year since moving down the street nearly seven years ago and semi-regularly before then when my brother lived downt the street in the opposite direction. This is not to brag, but I know what I'm talking about when it comes to WestFest. You could call me a WestFexpert, but I wish you wouldn't.

To support the local community, I went after work on opening night. As I approached the first talent stage, I could hear the musical styling of Josiah Barlow. He was a solo act on stage with just an electric piano. The music was a beautiful mix of non-verbal classical and contemporary sounds that reminded me of listening to a movie score. Not bad for a West Valleyite. He was really attractive, which only added to my entertainment pleasure. Sorry, but wishing I had brought my camera did not generate one photo. I enjoyed his music so much that when he said a particular song had been dedicated last year to his unborn child and how he wanted to now re-dedicate it to his baby who was here to enjoy it just before her first birthday, I didn't cringe in the remorse of crushed fantasy, nor did I whisper, "Damn Breeder" under my breath. He was really good and suggested I (meaning an invitation to the crowd) buy a CD. Wish I had, frankly, but I couldn't stay until the end of the show (my e-crops were about to wilt, but that is another story). Really good and the music varied in style.

I left Josiah with one more empty chair in a sea of unfulfilled expectation, wondering why more people hadn't cared enough to come out to see him play. My hunger from not having eaten all day quelled my guilt and I toddled off toward the food vendors. Mistake # 1. I should have stayed. Vendors selling carnival-type food from pizza, cotton candy, BBQ, slushy fruit drinks lined two sides of a tent with tables and chairs. One such booth sold hot dogs, hamburgers and corn dogs. Love me a good corn dog at the Fair, so I stopped, which proved to be mistake # 2. When I saw the corn dogs were the same Foster Farms corn dogs I sometimes buy at Wal Mart with the exception that these people planned to deep fry them in luke-warm grease instead of a hot grease-free oven, I chose the cheeseburger instead. $7 for a cold "let's hope this is meat" patty with a slice of cheese on a bun. No lettuce, tomato, pickles. They gave me some off-name mayo and catsup packets, some fries cooked in the same luke-warm grease and a Dr. Pepper (the only part of the "meal" I enjoyed).

As this was getting later in the evening, WestFest traffic was very light. I thought about heading back to Josiah, but didn't want to juggle the plate in my lap. Mistake # 3. I sat in the tables in the middle of the booths and tried to quickly swallow the most expensive regret I've had in a long while. The food was bad enough to make me completely re-think the idea of supporting the community. But wait, there's more. Instead of being deep within the booth as the two culinary criminals were before my poorly thought out purchase, the one thing that could have made the experience worse happened. All memory of daylight had slipped behind the western sky and the light in the tent above my table illuminated the scene with what felt like a spot light. Suddenly my eating disaster became every one's business. Luckily, the only two who cared to watch (more like stare with utter fascination) were the two who sold me the gruel. They had come out of their booth and planted themselves in front staring straight ahead at me. One sat. One stood. Once positioned, their bodies never moved. Their heads did not turn, nor, for all I could tell, did their eyes blink. It was seriously creepy. An image from the horror film, "Children of the Corn" came to mind, though I only saw the trailer. I thought about shoving the food back in their faces and demanding a refund, but it was carnival food, so what did I expect? Of course, what had seemed lack-luster in all the other booths just moments before suddenly looked like gold covered in chocolate.


Note to the Corn Children: Were you staring to see if I would actually eat that crap you made me pay so much for? When I finished it, did one of you win a bet? Were you just amazed that someone actually ate your food without throwing up? Maybe it would improve your sales if you didn't come across as demon children. At least have the decency to look away when people struggle to put down the last bite. You may have seen a calm fat gay man on a rickety chair enjoying your fabulous creation. From MY side of the table, it felt like an eating scene from Fear Factor with a side order of evil.

We're ready for your close up, Mr. Kotter

Cue the theme song music, "Welcome back...Welcome back...Welcome back..."



Growing up, I was a fat adult in training and as such, watched my share of television. Even as old as I have recently become, I can still sing pieces (never the whole) of theme songs ranging from the Love Boat, Laverne and Shirley, Beverly Hillbillies, Happy Days, All in the Family, The Jeffersons, and, of course, Welcome Back, Kotter. Watching a young John Travolta in tight jeans and hippie hair was always a thrill to a deeply closeted boy, but I digress.

This blog was created about 15 months ago and has been something I have really enjoyed. Writing is a passion I never seem to find time or enough concentration for and this blog was a convenient avenue to pop on and share my thoughts. I regularly featured stories about me, about me as Shirley D. Licious at Cyber-Slut Bingo and about my family, especially my niece, Rebecca, with whom I used to share regular interaction with.

In the fall of 2008, however, as the fight for California's Prop 8 started, as a member of the gay community whose rights (future, though they may be) were indirectly being debated, I felt an obligation to voice my opinion and help educate some of the well-meaning, but ignorant people. My theory was that many supporters who actually read my blog may have blindly followed an anti-gay position without realizing their actions (direct donations or otherwise) were hurting someone they knew and loved. Many homosexuals I know are afraid to stand up and be counted. Without the world knowing I'm here and I deserve the same rights as everyone else, how can the law makers know how important this issue is? For this reason, I do not shrink down and cower back into the closet just because others may not agree with my being gay. I did NOT choose to be gay and honestly ask who would? As many can attest, it is not easy to be part of a minority (especially here in Utah), but that does not change the fact that I am gay. To the surprise of some, being gay is not all about sex with other boys. Even if I never touched another man sexually again, I would still be gay. The straight community sometimes doesn't realize there is more to a person than what they do with their poles and holes. If anything, sex among gay people is the ONLY thing we have in common with straight people. If you need further explanation, let me know. I'll be glad to draw you a picture.

When I started adding news stories to the blog that either enraged or excited me about the ignorance/open mindedness some influential people were demonstrating, a very negative, and frankly surprising, response happened both on the blog and off. I do not expect everyone to agree with all of my views, but I do hope they will read them with an open mind. Just because something has been done a certain way for a very long time does not make it right. Discrimination on any level is bad. My blog generated a level of hate and treachery very close to home that scared me. True colors were flown for the first time in the decade since I first came out. The blind ignorance some insist on despite blatant evidence to the contrary is nothing short of baffling.

With this very ugly reaction to my blog, I purposefully slowed down and then stopped posting all together a few months ago. Well, I'm back, Mr. Kotter. I'm back. Part of my 2009-2010 birthday "to-do" list is to become much more prolific in the pen (or keyboard) and to hopefully be published soon. Can't promise every day, but I can promise to be brutally honest with a sense of personification. If I feel passionate about something, you can be sure to read about it here. I encourage feedback, both positive and negative. I encourage open communication and feel the world would be a much better place if secrets and lies were brought out in to the open. Thanks for reading. Have a nice day.

March Madness with the Utah Cyber-Sluts

l-r Katherine Heartburn, Lucky Charms, Shaneeda Derriere, Madame Fonda Dixx, Chevy Suburban and yes, Miss Shirley D. Licious. The two in front are not sluts, if anyone wondered. They are representatives of the Utah Lupus Foundation, the charity for March's Gay Bingo. This month's theme: Mardi Gras.

Bingo with the Utah Cyber-Sluts is never boring. It is riotous fun that usually leaves me exhausted with throbbing legs and feet for days, but I don't care. It is good for me to get off the couch and help with such a worthy group. Much of the pain is probably due to the shoes that have become a Shirley D. Licous staple, if not tradition: Pink jewel-encrusted flip-flops from the Wal-Mart store. They are the only piece of the wardrobe that hasn't changed in the months since last July when I first joined the ranks of the Sluts.

For those who need a reminder, the Utah Cyber-Sluts are a bunch of guys who dress up in campy drag to raise money for charity. Half of the money raised goes to support the Utah Pride Center and the other half for a designated charity. March's charity was the Lupus Foundation, a cause that has personally touched my family. Pictured above with the sluts is the Lupus Foundation representatives. We raised a record $3,000 in one night. Any way you split it, that is a lot of cash. When compounded by the dire economic times the world is currently facing, the feat becomes astounding.

In the past year I have been attending (before becoming a slut) and participating (as a slut), thousands and thousands of dollars have been raised for charities like AIDS research, the Lupus Foundation of Utah, No-more Homeless Pets and the Children's Box House. Some of my friends and family have been critical of this venture because they say it is just wrong for men to dress up in women's clothes regardless of the good that may come of it. Although my family members may personally benefit from the money raised last Friday night, it was very disheartening to hear they would never consider attending. Well, to hell with them. Being a Cyber-Slut is something that I'm very proud of.

It is not easy (the above mentioned flip-flops are easily four sizes too small and hurt, not to mention the looks on people's faces as I ask for help in picking out a bra or in finding just the right shade of lipstick), but when it comes down to it, I'm willing to put all of my personal inhibitions aside, grab my girdle by the bootstraps (has there ever been anything less comfortable, except maybe a corset?) and become Shirley D. Licious on the 2nd Friday of each month. Here, I am showin' a little leg and asking, "Who's yo' mamma?"

Part of the success of Shirley D. Licious has been the support of my friends. Lynda and Paul have been encouraging me from nearly day one. Their word of mouth now requires them to reserve at least one full table (think ward dinner size) and sometimes two. They are both amazing. Lynda takes charge of my camera during bingo and has taken most of these shots. Thanks, Lynda and Paul. You guys are incredible.
This was Marilee's first time to bingo. She fit right in and had a blast. Here she is posing with Miss Chevy Suburban, one of the most experienced sluts around. Before the night was over, she and the others were planning their costume for next month's pajama party themed bingo.

Turns out, Marilee is quite the boob squeezer. The rule with the sluts is that they can squeeze ours only if we get to squeeze theirs. Fortunately for me (and Marilee), boobs scare me, so I didn't return the favor. Marilee is no longer a bingo virgin, and I think that's awesome!!!

This is a shot of the bingo table with some of the prizes. I like this picture because it shows my bingo example board. I made it a few months ago so no one would be confused about what game we are playing. The bright pink circles can easily be seen from the back of the room. Here, for those of you not familiar with bingo, the board is demonstrating a picture frame. =) And yes, even with the board, someone called BINGO with just a horizontal row. That, also for those who may not be familiar, is what constitutes a party foul.

In the short video clip, (yes a bit boring in the middle) is someone in the stage audience (did I mention record attendance of just under 300 people?) getting a party foul. Not only do they get to wear the wig of shame and later dance through the audience for money, they were "boo'd" off the stage. Our stage audience was so enthusiastic. Although last month included our first nudity (Michael slipped his boxers off as I rushed through the curtain), this was the first time I've seen boy-boy kissing. There was no question a good many of the stage audience boys were going to get laid later, but that is a different story.

Bottom line: I'm very proud of my work as Shirley D. Licious. If you don't accept that I'm gay or that I dress in women's clothes to raise money for charity, then to hell with you. But, if you like to have fun and it becoming a little naughty (no, not raunchy) while doing it, then please come to next month's bingo: April 10th 7:00 PM at the Columbus Community Center in South Salt Lake (400 East and 25th South). We'd love to see you there. I suggest coming early.

A Day on the Farm

On Friday last week, my five year old niece, Rebecca, called and invited me to her house for a game night. We used to get together at least weekly for games and activities throughout much of her youth, but that changed when her family moved to Layton (33 miles each way, which is a lot of gas when finding an extra $5 for a prescription at the Smith's store is frequently too much). The whole blow up about Prop 8 and Equality Utah's Common Ground Initiatives in the Legislature didn't help either, but that is not the focus here. The point is, Rebecca had issued an "Operation and Candy Land Throw Down" and as I had been "served," I simply couldn't stay home.

Being clever as I try to be, though usually unsuccessful, I arranged for the whole party to "go down" at my brother's house instead of my sister's. This allowed us to include my niece, Londyn (age 3), in the games and to see my newest niece, Irelynd (yes, they are saving Antarctyca for their next baby).

The kids were super cute. It ended up that Operation (the original plan for the evening) was shelved because Londyn didn't like the loud noises it made (the new version has the guy sneezing at the most inappropriate times just to throw you off. When I played it with Rebecca at the New Year's party, it was not long before I wanted to throw the whole game into the dumpster.). We did play Candy Land (Londyn won) and Hi Ho Cherrio where I was the victor. Rebecca didn't care. She was more interested in just spending time with all of us, though she was already planning a rematch before the night was over.

For Christmas, I gave Rebecca a set of hand puppets and a stage from IKEA (LOVE that store). This was my first time to see the puppets in action, though it was Londyn and not Rebecca who had the most fun with it. The puppets are a pig, frog, chicken, horse, cow and a lamb. There were also a collection of safari finger puppets. Not sure at this point which pictures will make the cut. They were all cute, but Londyn stole the show.

Winter, winter...

From these pictures, it is hard to believe Peter Cottontail is fluffing up his tail and getting ready for his big hop. This March storm came in just long enough to clutter up the morning commute and dumping a couple of inches; most of which landed on my front stairs.

The pictures don't really give it justice, but every branch and twig from the surrounding trees and bushes was covered with a delicate layer of snow. It was truly beautiful. The wonderful thing about March snow storms is they don't last very long and the snow melts quickly. Case in point, I was thrilled when I returned home that night to see my stairs clear without my having to shovel them. YEA!!!

Tomorrow is supposed to be another spring storm. At last watch of the local news report (KSL, not those other amateur channels), the clouds and accompanying cold front were on the Utah/Idaho boarder with snow already starting in Logan and rain in Wendover. Yup, it should hit during the night just in time to clutter up another commute. And considering tomorrow will be the first commute since Daylight savings time kicked in, I'd better leave plenty early to allow time for the extra high number of "Grumpy Gerts" on the road. I'd say something about them being a menace, but I'm afraid I'm probably one of them. When some goof cuts me off, I'll just calm myself by thinking back on how beautiful the snow covered twigs and branches looked (truly one of my favorite sights), then cuss her out like a sailor in heat.

Some February Lovin' from Miss Shirley D. Licious...

February 13th was the latest excursion for Miss Shirley D. Licious of the Utah Cyber-Sluts. Our charity bingo night was to raise funds for the Children's Box House, which I believe is similar to the Ronald McDonald House. It was also my good friend Paul's birthday. He asked that I not embarrass him by mentioning it was his birthday to the other sluts. Paul and Lynda's support is invaluable on bingo night and throughout the month, so I held my tongue. Paul was nice enough to allow a couple of pictures together. Here, you'll notice the lovely red heart necklace my friend, Dixie, let me borrow (Thanks, Dixie) and how horrible the makeup turned out. Well, to be fair, the make up was fine until the flood of sweat washed it away. Not sure if it was just Shirley going through "the change with a wicked hot flash, or if the velvet dress in the blazing inferno of a community center contributed. I'm pretty sure I lost 3 pounds in sweat that night.
In the end, it was announced that we had raised $1,775 and donations as people left were suggested to help them "round up" to $1,800. Total donations came to $2,175, which made us very happy.


This is Fonda Dixx. She is doing an awesome job as current Madame. LOVE the hair.


The picture is dark, but I'm calling a bingo game. Actually, a really cute guy had just stood up to spin without raising his hands over his head or doing the "jazz hands" effect. Considering the prize he was about to win was valued at nearly $100, I had to stop the show and make him spin again. Jazz hands, dammit, are required. Oh, and I called him a bitch for resisting, which went over well with the crowd.


Party fouls have become SO much fun. This guy is a really good sport about them, often getting multiple fouls in one night. Here he is wearing the pink "Marge Simpson" wig of shame, which is so nasty I don't even like to carry the thing to the offender's head let alone wear it. Not sure, but his frequent offenses may have something to do with his idea that people can only donate by shoving the dollar bills in his pants instead of his hands. More than a couple went in for change. We don't require that, but damn, if it didn't make some wonderful eye candy. Yum.

Another of our "regulars" was slow cookin' the pizza and we had to strip him down. Sorry gay guys and ladies, but I did not get pictures of that. The mental image of his nice ass has been enough to keep me satisfied for over a week now. So, use your imagination and you are probably close. He was a good sport, which we as sluts really appreciate.


This is Katherine Heartburn being as fabulous as ever. I love the shiny dot sparkling through from her boob. That and the hair. LOVE the hair.


This is the night before. My boy, G, is taking the picture and enjoying the show. November's fiasco taught me the value of a "dry run" to make sure I had all the costume pieces together. I didn't bother with the stockings or flip/flops, but the rest was pretty much spot on. The lovely handbag was donated by my good friend Pati. It is black velvet to match my exquisite dress. Thanks, Pati.


Here I am trying to add volume to the wig with hairspray and my trusty comb. Next month, I need serious help with my hair and make-up.

Shirley and her groupies. This was Jaime and Pati's first time, Sanna's second and I can't even count how many times Lynda has come. Each month more and more people from work hear how much fun it is and they make plans to come. Our group already fills one long table. Getting there early is no longer optional to get a seat.

Here is another picture with Paul; this time more of a full length view. It kind of looks like a pant-suit combo, but no. It was a long, luxurious black velvet dress with a fabulous sparkle top accented by a barrage of red feathers, sparkle glasses, heart earrings and a heart necklace. Down below, you can barely see the red/black stripe stockings and, unfortunately, can not see the jewel-encrusted pink flip-flops from the Walmart store that have become a staple in Shirley's wardrobe. Hair design by my good friend, Pati.

Next month's bingo will be on Friday, March 13th at 7:00 PM. Columbus Community Center. Our new sponsor, Overstock.com, will be bringing the prizes and funds raised will support the Lupus Foundation of Utah. Theme: Mardi Gras. I went shopping yesterday for beads and love them so much that I just couldn't resist. Even though today is another "naked Sunday," it is technically "naked Sunday with beads. Hope to see all of you next month.

Which one are you?

This cartoon was passed around work the other day and it made me laugh and then made me wonder. The poor swimmer thinks he is going to help someone and will soon find he has been deceived and will himself need assistance.

Those sharing a certain circumstance with me will understand when I say we feel like the swimmer carrying on dangerously close to a situation we will not approve of later. Those in another circumstance with me just now will understand how I feel a bit like the shark or others may say the proverbial spider to the fly. I won't bore you with the details of either as it may incriminate me and/or those I associate with. But, you know who you are and none of this should be a mystery. So, please enjoy the cartoon as much as I did.

Celebrate love wherever it is found...

A Valentine's Day wish from Suze Orman

Schadenfreude

This video was passing around work yesterday and I just couldn't help but laugh and say, "Holy Crap" except I didn't say crap. So much for good Samaritans. Sometimes work pressures and money woes make a good laugh as valuable as gold. I really needed this laugh when it came.

The Germans have a word to describe my taking pleasure at this guy's misfortune: Schadenfreude. I was first introduced to that word by listening to the soundtrack to the Broadway musical, Avenue Q (track 16)
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Even though Avenue Q robbed Wicked of the Best Musical Tony award, meaning I'll be forever bitter, I would still like to see it some day. It deals with a lot of real-life issues in blunt ways others merely cower at like Schadenfreude, masturbation and internet porn, everyone being a little bit racist, the sensuality of aging strippers and people you love who turn out to be complete bastards. The fine people who bring Broadway to Salt Lake have commented that this show is to adult in nature for the local audience. The same thing robbed us of the touring Sweeney Todd last year for the awful Annie (remember my review about fat orphans and wrinkled sets?). So, if any of you would like to go to New York or another city not afraid to grab its balls and admit they have people who would like to see such a such, let me know.

From the bottom of the Hudson...

These are four of about 25 shots emailed to me about the recent efforts to raise the downed airplane from the bottom of the Hudson River.


The water is a nasty shade of brown that I really hope is just from all the stirred up sediment. Some of the later shots that didn't make the cut showed huge ice chunks floating in the river. Going down in the river and then having to stand out on the wing waiting for rescue while hoping the boat arrived before the plane sunk must have been terrifying. The fact that no one was killed simply amazes me. The pilot and crew did an incredible job thinking fast under pressure. No wonder they were honored at the recent inauguration and at the Super Bowl yesterday. It would have been nice to also see a picture of the people all standing on the wing, but these pictures came about the plane's recovery. I'm sure a Google search would provide you the rescue pictures if you'd like.

I am reminded of the time just over 10 years ago now when my parents and I went to Hawaii. By the time the safety announcement had gotten to the point of saying, "A portion of this flight may be over water" I had already watched the friendly, safe shores of California slip away. I'm thankful we didn't have to go through what those passengers did, and even more thankful to not have been eaten by a shark. This won't stop me from flying as I have friends now in Germany that I'd really like to see again. On the contrary, it gives me hope and faith. The talented pilot and crew took care of this set of passengers, just as I would trust my future captains and flight crew to take care of me. Not every plane that crashes kills everyone. That is a myth. In some circumstances, death can't be avoided and if I'm ever on one of those flights, let's hope the end comes quickly. This is an example of where we need to trust in the bigger picture; trusting that we may not always be in control, but accepting the outcome all the same. As we never know when our end will come, I at least plan to work a little harder to make the time I've been given more valuable and rewarding; rewarding to me if not to everyone else as well.

Switching to all Digital.

This sure feels like me when something goes wrong and I can't just push the start button. Internet and computer savvy as far as they have "dumbed" down the technology. Luckily, I have satellite television (hooked up by someone else), so this won't happen to me in a few weeks.

Did Mormons go too far?

Activists claim that money from the Mormon Church was the deciding factor in passing Proposition 8 in California - banning gay marriage. The church claims to have only spent a few thousand dollars on the campaign, but ANP has uncovered evidence that may expose a gaping hole in that claim.