Well...here goes EVERYTHING!

Ok just to manage your expectations real quick this is not my announcement that I am 1) Going on tour with Destiny's Child as the new Michelle 2) Signing a reality TV deal with E! to showcase "The Debbie Chronicles" or 3) Getting married ...you would have better chances at me announcing #1...

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I think if you had asked me seven years ago if I'd ever be writing this I would probably tell you YES! (YAAAAASSS wasn't a thing back then but if it was...I would probably say that). I never knew HOW this was all going to work out but I always knew in my heart it would. But I think in order for you to understand where I am at and where I am going it's important to take you back in time real quick... 

Seven years ago I was just a senior at Boston College trying to make it in the world of club dj-ing and wondering how in the hell "DJ SEAN" would ever catch on. I was living in the shadows of not only my also well known ex...but the very difficult task of breaking into the entertainment industry...then something happened. Through a very fortunate series of events Glitter became a thing. Don't ask me how...because for the life of me I still have no idea...but it did...and I ran with it...out the closet and down the hallway. Before I knew it I was front and center in DJ booths of clubs and on stages doing things I never knew I was capable of. I was traveling the world and working tirelessly trying to balance ambition with respect while avoiding the nay-sayers that were around me everyday. It was incredible, scary, wonderful, stressful, and exciting all at the same time and remains that way today.  

What started as a little bit of glitter for decoration evolved into a demand for more and more eccentric outfits. Why wouldn't I? If Glitter can get away with face paint, what's wrong with sequins jackets, wings, feathers, and just underwear?  Oh the outfits...

 Glitter became an unstoppable entertainment force whose only job was to make people stop, stare, laugh (either with or at me I really don't care) and enjoy themselves.  Glitter went from being a DJ name, to a persona, to a brand and I'm incredibly excited to reveal the next evolution of the brand that many people thought was just a phase...




Today I am honored and humbled to announce the launch of PROUD by Glitter. 

PROUD is a product line developed for the LGBT community, its supporters and friends. PROUD is unique in the fact that a portion from the proceeds of every item sold will directly impact select non-profits dedicated to making a positive change in the lives of the community. 

When I was first approached with the concept and asked what I thought the best product would be to start I needed to think...so I went home and sat down with my sister and opened up a bottle of wine and then it occurred to me...why not wine? Everyone loves wine! How hard could it be to design, license, bottle, and market wine? That was two years ago. Now, after countless meetings, sleepless nights, endless worry it wouldn't work and thanks to so many amazing people...PROUD WINE is here! 

PROUD Wine is special for number of reasons...not just because my picture is on the bottle :) 

It's called PROUD because of all the things that have ever been said to me about what I do (and trust me...there's been A LOT) the minute anyone in my life looks at me, the work I've done, and the person I've become and says "I'm proud of you"...I know I'll be OK. 

I'm proud to have an amazing group of people at #TeamGlitter. You have been my family, my allies, my support and my ego check. You have helped me through some very dark times (wait for the book) and you have inspired me to achieve what I thought would be impossible. 

I am very proud of all of you who are reading this right now. I'm proud to know you, to work with you, to be your friend, or to be someone you don't know and just stalk on social media...but in all seriousness I'm proud of who you are...and if no one has ever said that to you...I'm telling you right now.

If there are people, circumstances, or events in your life that you are proud of...this is to celebrate them.  

I'm proud that a boy from Boston could garner the support of a local company like Boston Winery to have faith in this brand. If you don't know about them you need to check them out! They are no newbies to the game. They have successfully collaborated with brands like Shawn Thornton of the Boston Bruins and The Black Dog to create custom wines...so it's only fitting Glitter would be their next celebrity ambassador ;) 

The wine is flippin delicious! If you think it was fun spending hours and hours sampling wine that you'd be confident enough to put your name and picture on... it was, who am I kidding? We chose organic blends instead of specific varietals because when I thought about it...a blend just makes more sense. Life is blended, love is blended, it's never just ONE type...why not drink something that blends with your life? 

The picture featured was shared nationally as a symbol of Pride 2015 and even though you and I know it's me...this picture represents any person...in any city...standing tall above adversity and looking forward to the future. 

Starting today until April 1, 2016, a portion of every single bottle sold will go directly to Victory Program's Boston Living Center. For those of you who don't know Victory Programs’ Boston Living Center (BLC) is a nonprofit community and resource center that fosters the wellness of all HIV positive people and responds to the changing needs of the HIV/AIDS community through education, treatment information and support services.

PROUD is going to focus on local non-profits specific to each market. So while today marks the Boston launch for a non-profit in MA, whatever market is next will have it's own beneficiary. In LA it could go to non-profits such as Equality California. In NYC, we'll work with places like the Trinity Place Shelter for Transgender youth, and in Ft. Lauderdale, I am hoping to work with places like SunServe, an LGBT mental health services organization. Each quarter will allow a new beneficiary and new pillar of need for the community to be addressed. What I love about this is that it doesn't matter where you live or what you do, you can make a change in the world, give back and enjoy something delicious to drink. I've never been able to do what I do without giving back...I've never had a platform as large as this to do so and while I don't know if every single person in the world will like it...I do know several things: 

I know in my heart that PROUD will make a positive change. I know that it will give funds to build shelters and provide assistance to people on hard times. I know that it will assist in the research and eventual eradication of the HIV/AIDs epidemic which has claimed the lives of so many who paved the way... But my one true hope...the reason I keep going everyday even when I don't think I can...is that I know PROUD will work towards a world where no child will ever think of ending his/her life because they were teased, bullied, abused, or punished for being anything as beautiful as themselves. It's not going to happen overnight but if I can do any one of these things...then I will do all of them. 

Well...that's it I guess! I very much appreciate you taking the time to read this...If you don't want to wait until PROUD hits stores in January you can visit the good folks at Boston Winery 26 Ericsson St in Dorchester! If you live out of MA, or love your online shopping, I would love for you to CLICK HERE TO BUY PROUD WINE and I thank you for being a part of my journey. It's been quite the ride and the best part is it's only just beginning. Have a Merry Christmas and cheers to a wonderful 2016! 

Oh! I almost forgot one thing.....

#ItsGlitterBitch 

The Fashion Show

Anyone who has never met me knows that I am all about high fashion. If I'm not out flaunting the latest fashion trends (by black women in the 1980's) you can constantly find me making my mark with my unique blend of "I'm too fat to wear this" and "I dont give a fuck what you think". Allow me to digress...

If you haven't caught on yet, I am a former fat kid. Now, we can all sit here and talk about things like "body dysmorphic disorder" and "finding the beauty within" but let's be real...I know I'm not "fat". I am however, gay fat. What's that you ask? Gay fat? Yes. Gay Fat. You see...gay men have a certain "type" of guy they are interested and he is pictured here:

Hot right? Don't you wish everyone looked like that? Well newsflash...in gay world...EVERYONE DOES. At least...anyone who is worth noticing looks like that. The perception of hot in the gay world has sparked numerous debates, thesis papers, and probably will be the start of a few of those new fangled "gay divorces" that are about to hit the market after this past week's SCOTUS awesome decision...tick tock.

YAY! Let's go on a group honeymoon! Nothing bad can happen with that idea...

I've always dressed with clothes that accentuate God's gifts to me and by that I mean, my clinical insanity. This goes back to my formative years as a fat kid. My earliest memories of being exposed to fashion was being berated in the Sear's dressing room by my mother and grandmother who would be screaming through the door:

"HURRY UP WITH THOSE SLACKS"

"IS THE HUSKY FIT OK?"

"IS THERE ENOUGH ROOM IN THE CROTCH?"

These were real concerns for the guardians of an 8 year old with pant sizes of 42x26 ...yes...I was FAT.

Allow me to make one point very clear...I never dressed myself. My mother was in complete control of making sure my McHammer parachute pants and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles jean jacket complimented my flat top hair cut. My father, a man who only knew to wear uniforms, would bring me to get my school uniforms to wear during the week. This...lasted until college.

I realize that my extreme fashion choices are a direct "rage against the machine" attitude of being forced to wear what people told me every day of my life. But I also realize...I need someone to pick my clothes out because I don't give a fuck what I'm wearing if I think it looks good. Glitter's outfits have ranged from pieces of glass glued to my forehead when I decided to be the White Queen from the Chronicles of Narnia for a party that I think was in April to channeling my inner Stevie Nicks and parading around New York City wearing 2 strategically placed scarfs, sneakers...and nothing else.

But if you want to know what really projected me into the world of fashion...here it is:

Disclaimer: The following sentence is going to make you think I was raised "rich". In reality, the only persons who thought I was rich was me and my sister. Hey, fake it till ya make it. 

Many of my summers growing up were spent traveling Europe. <---see.
My father's job took him to various locations and often, my sister and I would sneak away for a week while not saving lives at a camp for overly privileged children and see him. However, once my sister got her braces off and tried highlights, she got herself a boyfriend and I...had only tried highlights with my braces...NOT A GOOD LOOK.


I flew to London to see my father and while you could marvel at the various sights, history, and culture of London...I was excited the hotel had a pool.

I begged my father not to drag me to that stupid round theater \or go and meet Queen what's her nuts at some fundraiser...MY HOTEL HAD A POOL! Where else on earth could you swim at a hotel...WITH A POOL!?! I know...I was a dick.

My father phoned down to the pool (we were in Europe so of course we phoned and did not call) and asked what time the pool was open until. The receptionist informed him that the pool was open BUT proper swimwear and bathing caps were required. Now, I guess this is because in Europe...people go to the beach in the fucking nude and you might think that's hot but guess what...it's NEVER the people you want to be nude that don't wear clothes.

A few minutes later room service came up with swim caps and "suggested swim suits". So wait...not only are you telling me I have to wear a condom on my head but you want me to wear a pin stripe one piece while enjoying your facilities and I'm paying $2,000/night to stay here? Fucking swell.

Dressed liked 2 ex-convicts from the 1930's my father and I went for a dip in the pool. It was lovely...It was rejuvenating...It was...a hotel pool and I knew my father secretly hated me. We spent well over an hour in the pool and surprise surprise, I wanted to eat. We looked around for towels to no avail. If my grandfather was with us he would regale us with some soothing Irish words of comfort

"Goddamn English no good bastards and their ugly goddamn faces can't even give us a goddamn towel. Jesus Christ! If it wasn't for us you'd all be speaking German you tea sipping sons of bitches" He's a poet.

There was supposed to be a pool attendant who I'm sure went on break when he saw two American's come in hoping we would drown so we were left alone. My father, in his infinite wisdom, told me that we would just slip through the lobby, soaking wet and barely clothed, and get back to our private elevator where nobody could see us. FOOL PROOF PLAN.

 The elevator door opened to the lobby...at least...I think it was the lobby. Oh yes, the lobby of our hotel, in the time we were basking in unfiltered pool water because the British don't treat their pools with chlorine, was transformed into the L'OREAL BRITISH FASHION AND GLAMOUR AWARDS.

My father and I starred at each other blankly. FUCK!! What do we do?! We can't stay in the pool all night! Nobody seems to want to help us. I was sure my father had a plan. My father...a skilled secret agent who could infiltrate Al Quedia bases without recognition...decided...we should just make a run for it.

"NOBODY WILL EVEN NOTICE" he said to me
"YOU'RE WEARING A COORS LIGHT T-SHIRT AND I DON'T HAVE PANTS ON" I retorted

We causally sauntered in attempting to blend in with the illustrious crowd.

Naomi Campbell, Claudia Schrieffer, Elle McPherson and Kate Moss were in the lobby of our hotel posing and pouting for the world's media to oogle over...and there I was...soaking wet and looking like fucking Pugley Addams at summer camp.


We were stopped by security. "You can't be here" they told us. Looking at us like we just stole the Hope Diamond under my head condom.

"We are guests of the hotel"
"Sorry sir, the hotel is closed to guests you'll have to leave"

THE HOTEL IS CLOSED TO GUESTS?! WHAT THE FUCKITY FUCK!? But sure enough, there the sign.

"The ____________ will be closed to guests for a private party from 7p-10p. All guests are asked not to attempt to access the hotel premises during this time and we thank you for your thoughtfulness" 

First off, that's not THOUGHTFULNESS.,,that's insanity. Where the fuck were we supposed to go? Oh, they didn't care. They ESCORTED US OUT OF OUR HOTEL.

For anyone not familiar with London it's known for its sunny and warm evenings and its almost Caribbean like weather. Oh my bad...that's Miami. London is known for being 50 degrees and rainy in August. So what were we to do? Well...seeing as it was night time and most of the stores were closing, my father thought it'd be best that we find ourselves some suitable clothes. This part of London was Newbury Street, Fifth Ave, and Rodeo Drive's richer, obnoxious cousin. We went from store to store looking...insane and finally my father gave up. He walked up to some random homo, gave him his credit card and said we would take whatever fit us. 

And then we left. We strolled the streets of Londontown dressed to the nines wearing matching Gucci suits...it was the first time I ever owned a piece of high fashion...and we looked ridiculous. 

Just the two of us

Adult Sleepovers

First off...I just want to wish all of my readers a very happy Pride month! As you're reading this I am in the middle of hosting a bunch of events all over Boston for Gay Pride and I am so happy to announce that for a second year in a row all of the money that I make from these gigs are going to The Trevor Project. For those of you who don't know The Trevor Project is an American non-profit organization founded in 1998 and the leading national organization focused on suicide prevention efforts among lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning and other queer youth. It is honestly an amazing organization that gives kids who think there is nowhere to go a place to feel safe and get help and deal with the inevitable struggles that come with being seen as "different".  Please believe me when I say that I'm not bragging. I think it's just important sometimes to see past all the #itsglitterbitch shit you see on social media...don't get me wrong...I will self promote the shit out of anything I do...because let's be honest...it's kind of fun ;) 

as for everyone who has asked me about where they can buy #itsglitterbitch shirts...it's really all down to how quickly I can make those damn Vietnamese kids in my basement do iron-ons...stay tuned.

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I've never been good with sleepovers. I say "sleepovers" and not "one night stands" because I'm going way back to when I was a child and that would just be creepy. To start, Papa Glitter who was a cop at them time never trusted other kid's parents. I don't know what type of trouble suburban middle class parents in Boston did to cause my father such doubt that I wouldn't survive a sleepover...it must have been some pretty bad shit. 

The other part of this problem stems from my mother. The woman, god bless her, was OBSESSED with me taking showers. Trust me, it wasn't because I was always sweaty from sports I played, I think it's because I had this amazing super power as a child to make a TOTAL FUCKING MESS out of anything I ate. Seriously, she would find tomato sauce behind my ears when we didn't have pasta for days...it was an extremely unique gift. 

So you can imagine the surprise of anyone that my father prescreened to actually allow me to sleepover to have this totally socially awkward future homo sitting at your kitchen table eating dinner who says "That was a lovely meal Mrs. Jake's Mom...can I please take a shower?" Its a wonder I had any friends. 

The few times I did make it past dinner I had fun times including seeing my best friends mom naked because she didn't know I was in her room trying on her shoes, sleepwalking into my friends closet thinking it was a bathroom...and the time I went to my best friend's house and ordered $1,500 worth of the Spice Channel in one weekend and then watching his very strict baptist parents beat him with a belt. 

Needless to say this didn't translate well into my twenties. For one thing...I'm a prude. While there is a huge backlash of "slut shamming" that goes one with guys who sleep with anything with a pulse...there is the very same amount of shame that goes along with being labeled a "c**k tease". People don't even talk to you because they know you aren't going to go home with them. I'm not sure when that became a bad thing but whatever...I don't judge people. 

The other reason I don't like one night stands is because...I'm selfish. I like MY BED with MY SHEETS and MY PILLOWS and MY STUFFED ANIMALS I don't operate well in foreign territory...I'm a one man gay French army. 

One night I was at a bar on a very cold January night. I was in town and looking VERY glitter-eque. I'm having a great time and I'm talking to this guy and you know what...I went home with him.

 We got into a cab and I was drunk enough to not realize where I was going. I thought he said he lived in Savin Hill but the amount of time it took us to get wherever he was taking me felt like I might be going to the Seven Hills of Rome. We get to his place and I could not for the life of me figure out where I was...but that wasn't necessarily my first priority. I didn't want to sleep over. I think I was more happy I didn't have to get my own cab and be cold. Whatever. It happened. 

The next morning I woke up very hungover and very guilty and very...alone. I mean if you take someone home and they leave in the middle of the night that's one thing but if you go home with someone and THEY leave...you must have done something VERY WRONG.

oh god. what happened?! Did I start talking about weddings again? Did I tell him how much I thought he looked like one of the Backstreet Boys? Did I do the single ladies dance for him!? 

Endless thoughts of horrible scenarios raced through my brain. I had to get out of there. And then...I looked out the window. It was a blizzard.

I don't mean...a few inches of snow quickly falling to the ground...I mean that the Governor shut the fucking roads down. 

I looked around dazed and confused and finally realized I was in his room and needed to leave. This was some MISSION IMPOSSIBLE SHIT...I was a stealth ninja with one object...don't wake anyone up! 

Oh, did I mention that there was no power in the house so my phone was damn near dead? Yea...forgot that.  I pulled a very glitter moved and faceplanted in a hall way to a strange voice...it was a woman. 

"HELLO!?"

"Ummm...Hello!"

What I thought was going to be a roommate emerging from her room and oh yes...it was his mom. 

If you're wondering how drunk I was the night before, not only did I not know where I was...I kind of forgot his name. 

"What are you doing in my house!?"

"Oh...ummm I'm a friend of..."

FUUUUUCKKK. Do I just pick a generic homo name? Matt, Mike, Ryan?! What if that's not his name?! What if this woman thinks I'm a burglar...with glitter smeared all over his face...and jeggings. What if she shoots me in self defense?! 

What is my obituary going to read?! MAN DIES IN A SHIRT THAT WAS TOO SMALL FOR HIM. NO! It wasn't too small for me! I just did the cabbage soup diet! It was a large and how was I supposed Forever 21 mens shirts ran small...wait...dial it back. 

"Are you a friend of Daniels?"

"DANIEL! YES!! YES. I. AM" 

"Oh lovely!! I'm his mom! How do you know Daniel?!"

Oh shit. Here we go.

"We umm.we. work together" 

"Daniel doesn't have a job"

winner

"No I meant...from sports!"

"Daniel doesn't play sports?"

"Haha no...sorry...I work in sports...that's how I know him"

"What?"

"Your house is wonderful! Did you decorate yourself?!"

"I DID!! I'm very into decoupage!"

Your son might be too...I don't remember...I also don't know what decoupage means 

"Well this was fun! I have to get going now"

"What do you mean? You can't leave...the roads are shut down"

"Oh...I'll just walk home...it's not that bad out"

Now I don't want to confuse anyone that doesn't know where I'm talking about so just think of the most INCONVENIENT TOWN that could ever be imagined. No public transport, no highway, no escape...that's where I was. No wonder I didn't know where I was...I've never been there before! 

"Is umm...Daniel? home?" 
"No I sent him out to check on his grandmother this morning. He must be stuck over there."

this is magical

"Well, I'll just call my dad and have him come get me. Or one of his cop friends...or one his CIA friends with a helicopter...I'll just be a minute"

I then had the MEMORABLE task of calling my father and asking him to PICK ME UP FROM A ONE NIGHT STANDS HOUSE.

"Dad its me...I know I didn't come home...I'm sorry I didn't text you...I know...I know...No but i'm stuck over his house...my friend Daniel...yes I do have a friend named Daniel, can you come get me?...yes...yes...ok I will...love you too. bye"

"What did he say?"

"I'm stuck here until it stops snowing"

"Oh how fun!! What should we do?!" This woman was insane and awfully trustworthy of someone who just magically appeared in her house.

"Well...there's no power/heat/or transportation I'll guess we'll party like it's 1799!" - that...was a joke ps. This bitch lit up light a christmas tree. 

"Oh my goodness what a great idea!! We'll light candles and pretend it's 1799!! We'll do all kinds of things that the colonial people did!! This will be so much fun! 

sounds like a blast!! but if this is 1799...you don't get to vote on what the fuck we do and the chances of me getting stoned by villagers is pretty good considering again...i'm wearing jeggings.

For the next FOUR HOURS I talked with this kid's mom about her terrible divorce...the struggles of raising a gay son...her fucking medical problems and her dreams of being a Pan-Am flight attendant in the 70's. Oh yes...it was a hoot!

My father called me to tell me that while the roads were open but he couldn't come get me right away because he had other things to do. SO DID I DAD THAT'S WHY I DIDN'T NEED TO BE SPENDING MY DAY WITH CRAZY PANTS!!

Daniel arrived at the door a few minutes later looking confused...as one would

"Hey...I thought you might have left"
"I did too...roads are closed...been hanging out with your mom"
"Ummm cool? My grandmother sent over some food...you're welcome to have some?"
"Thanks.You think after I can take a shower?"
"What?"
"Don't worry about it"
"Oo"

Sooooo wedding's set for next fall. Save the dates to follow. 

M-O-U-R-Gay

Apologies that I didn't post last week. I was going to say it's because I got a new job and I was super busy but the reality is...I just discovered this show on Netflix called 30 Rock and well...I'm kind of obsessed. Anywho...

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I think it's safe to say that anyone who is reading this realizes that my goals are plain and simple. I want to be rich and I want to be famous. Regardless of what you think about my plan or style of getting these things, let me just give you a quick background.

I've always been rich. I don't mean that I'm heir to some wayward Doherty Irish Potato Famine fortune that traveled the Atlantic, I'm saying I've been a hustler since a young age. My bad, I realize many of my readers are gay. I'm not a hustler in that sense...anymore. I don't sell my body or services for money.  Think less Bel Ami or more Jay-Z. Being a hustler means you work very hard every single day and make money wherever and whenever you can.

Not so much...

Slightly better

This all goes back to my days with Kay. Kay was...well...I'm not really sure how to explain this...Kay was a Chinese merchant whose establishment in downtown Manhattan  was the proprietor of luxury name brand goods at discount prices. Translated: The bitch sold fake bags on Canal Street. When I happened upon there in the summer of 2002, I was instantly mesmerized by the money they made and the business they had. I couldn't let my father know what was going on because well...he was a cop and he would arrest me so I had to set up a small side business.

PRADAH, GUCHI, LUEEE VEETON?

It went GANGBUSTERS!! I'm not kidding. You'd think someone would be suspect of some random homo wearing sunless tanner and purple contacts because he thought he was Naomi Campbell for a brief period of time selling fake handbags out of the trunk of his Buick Century...but oddly they didn't. They probably thought I had enough problems with my identity to worry about my illegal activities...whatever.

But where did the being famous thing come from?

Many of you may or may know that when I was 10, my parents brought me and my sister to Lake Buena Vista Florida to audition for the second round of the Mickey Mouse Club. Many of your favorite stars like Justin Timberlake, Britney Spears, and that dude from Notebook all got started on the Mickey Mouse Club. As for the story of the overweight gay pre-teen and his anorexic sister who tried to impress the producers with their duet of the Boy Is Mine while wearing matching bucket hats?? They...didn't make the cut.

You need to give it up. I've had about enough... 

Rejection is part of the business and while my foray into the entertainment industry took some more twists and turns... There was the off off off Broadway play (when I say off Broadway...I mean Massachusetts). There was the reality tv show...oh that was a hoot. This was pre-Hilton/Kardashian reality tv so it was less Real World and more...well to be honest I don't know what the fuck it was. All I know is that it filmed in this creepy building with a prop desk, fake phones, and neon sign...it could have been a porn set...but then I remembered what I looked like at 18 when I did it and I realize it was NOT porn.

Girlfriend loves her fake tan...just sayin

So there was that...and then there was the actual adult film stint later on in life...but I'll save that for another blog.

I never knew that my career would lead me back to the Mouse. I say The Mouse because you and I both know what would happen if I used the actual name of the company. You think the Beygency is real? Try bad mouthing The Mouse...my family would be in danger.

The Mouse called me back to work for their entertainment division hosting various events, some radio/tv work, looks like tons of fun and a great paycheck! What could possibly go wrong?!

Ok let's get real...everybody loves The Mouse. They have to. It's ingrained into our minds as young children that being a child = loving the mouse. I'm no different! I love the mouse! I wanted to be fucking Mousekateer...I LOVE THE MOUSE.

See what happened? People get so crazy about the Mouse that they can't process it. To say you have to drink the kool-aid is a gross understatement. You have to inject that shit. Want to work for them? It's simple!! Just be the following: Happy, Thin, White, Toothy, Tatooless, Pierceless and Straight...The Other 7 Dwarfs.

I know what you're thinking...Glitter how did you possibly get a job with them? You aren't thin! I know I know but trust me, lighting and angles can fool even insane children.

The Mouse had a very military-like operation in that Don't Ask Don't Tell was super enforced. I didn't have to not be gay...I just couldn't be gay. EASY PEEZY!

Speaking of military. The training is the most intense thing I have ever done. First off, you cannot bring your phone for your trip to Mouse House. Why can't you have your phone? What don't they want me calling home for? You get on a chartered flight and zip to Orlando. EVERYONE ON THE PLANE IS SMILING. I look around at all the other shiny happy people and think...oh fuck.

Here's the other thing that I don't think the Mouse understands...every dude on the flight...was gay. Seriously, maybe one or two wayward bi guys but for the most part it looked like a flight to church camp...and we all know what happens at church camp.

You arrive to Mouse House on a bus...again...no phone...no way of asking for help...nowhere to hide.

Now, I've been to Mouse House a billion times and have stayed at every hotel. So, I was a little confused as to why my accommodations were more...CONCENTRATED CAMPing style with 8 rows of bunk beds but whatever...it was an experience.

The next morning we were to report to ROLL CALL at 6am before the House opened. If you want to be scared out of your mind...go to a theme park when it's empty.

and nobody can hear you scream

Roll call was then followed by audition rounds. Wait? I thought I already had the job? Why do I need to audition? Oh because you might have gotten A job and you will be held to your contact no matter what...but it might be THE job you actually wanted. Fun right? You sign a contract and THEN find out what you'll be doing.

Audition rounds were very American Idol-y. We all took turns saying the same crazy lines, performing all the moves to THE HOEDOWN THROWDOWN, singing various Mouse songs and practicing our Oprah hugs...for those of you who don't know...that's when a little kid wants to hug you because they think because you look like someone on their favorite show that they hug you but you have protect yourself from a lawsuit you throw your hands up to block them...

I could write a paper on how hug deprived kids are today as evident by their insane need to hug strangers...but I'm writing this instead.

The final part is held in this giant sound stage. It's just...unsavory. You're all there broken out by region and you go thru this final "impress the judges" process and then at the end of it they line everyone up and announce your name. You feign interest with your new "friends" and promise "no matter what, we will be friends FOREVER" while secretly hoping the bitch falls off the stage and can't move onto the next round...at least I thought that.

Finally, I heard my name. I didn't think I'd be happy because again I was very jaded about this whole process, but I was! Here I was 10 years after those bastards turned their backs on me and now I'm the guy they picked!! I did it!! I MADE IT!! I....fell flat on my fucking face in front of everyone.

It was a foretelling of what was to come. Working for The Mouse was an amazing experience and one I will never forget. I actually did meet some really great people and had some great times. I would recommend it anyone highly...so long as you're Happy, Thin, White, Toothy, Tatooless, Pierceless and Straight.

PS- once they send The Mouse after me to kill me and hide my body...tell my family I love them

A Very Dirty Date

I hope everyone else who isn't on Cape Cod is enjoying your spring. Of the many things CC lacks (wealth, happiness, an Apple Store to name a few) Springtime isn't something this place has ever been good at. Now I know what you're going to say "OMG stop it! Nobody has had a "spring" it went from 30 to 90 in one week) and you're right...I'm NOT going to say that. What I AM going to say is that while it might be 72/73/80 degrees in our Northern and Southern neighbors...the Cape has what I like to call "the dark cloud" looming everyday over us in the physical and emotional. Don't just take my word my for it look at the pictures below taken THE EXACT SAME DAY!! 

May 3rd 2015 - Boston

May 3rd 2015 - The Gates of Hell 

Even this past winter, the old belief that "The Cape doesn't get as much snow as Boston because of the coastline" theory was proven true. We don't get AS MUCH snow...we get a whole fucking lot more! 

I blame Al Gore. But also thank him for inventing the internet so you can now enjoy this post...

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2 things you need to know about my life so that this blog makes sense. The first being...my father is Liam Neeason. By that I mean, he spent years running around foreign countries with a terrible accent and "dealing with" other people with terrible accents. Honestly, he hasn't been out the game long enough for me to elaborate but I'm working on selling the picture rights to Sony. Papa Glitter has asked that he be played by Donnie Wahlberg which is fine because I'm clearly asking that I get played by Beyonce since we have the same clothes. 

Starring Donnie Walhberg as Papa Glitter...with his current Hoe

Beyonce as Glitter and Solange as my always unnamed sister...sorry Ka

This "secret agent" mentality has left my father to be the absolute worst person to hide things from. Growing up, I "skipped class" one day to go see a movie with 2 friends. We skipped LAST PERIOD STUDY and drove with my friend's brother to the Randolph movie theater. We were SENIORS and my school actually let you leave that block. So technically, I didn't even skip school. But, I didn't tell my father I was leaving the premises. So what happened? IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOVIE THEY STOPPED IT. The lights went on and standing smack in front of the screen was good ol' Papa Glitter...looking as tho he found me in a brothel sticking a heroin needle into the soft spot of a new born baby's head. (he only has two emotions) 

So after that no, I didn't really feel like I could get away with too much. 

The second thing you must know is that I'm not what you would call a "tidy" person. Let me clarify. There is a difference between "messy" and "dirty". I am the former. Messy people like myself have no use for drawers because we are going take all of clean clothes, try them on several times in various combinations for music video purposes, pick none of them and go buy new clothes. The fore mentioned clothes are PERFECTLY CLEAN. Yes, they are scattered all around my room but it's MY ROOM! Growing up, I never understood why my mother would say "Go clean your room, we are having company"

I'm sorry, are you giving tours? Are we having canapes on my bed? Why do you want to show strangers your children's rooms? I never understood that logic. 

There are some people, like my sister and father who get ABSOLUTELY thrilled at the thought of cleaning things. My sister will often take her car to get it vacuumed twice a week and get's "anxiety" at the thought of sharing hotel rooms with me since she knows that in the first 3-5 minutes...I can make it look like the dressing room at a Marshall's after a spring sale. 

  

But that's not to say I won't take the appropriate measures to hide both my messiness, and my family. 

This story takes place one "sunny" day in Hyannis. I had just starting dating this guy and I had plans to pick him up after work for what he considered lunch but I, having been up since 3:30 in the morning, was thinking more along the lines of a midnight snack. He lived about 5 miles away from my work and my plan was simple.

-Leave work 10 minutes early

-Take all of my various outfits, shoes, backup outfits and cases of glitter out of my car

-Take my car to the car wash and vacuum it  

-Pick up date and act surprise he loves my car so much. 

This did NOT go as planned. Date texted me that had walked to my work to surprise me and motherfucker...I was surprised! For one thing, I don't like when dates come to my work it's just unsavory. For another thing, and this is something you'll notice next time you are on Alcatraz Cape Cod...we don't have sidewalks! No really, apart from your Main street and maybe a beach walkway...there a NO SIDEWALKS. This makes for several interesting sights including hitchhikers, moms running on main roads with strollers, and me behind my wheel swearing because I want to run them all over. 

I tell date to wait in the lobby and bolt out the back door. NO TIME TO HIDE THE CRAZY and I chuck everything into the "way back". I put all the empty water bottles in a bag, throw out receipts for anything showing I eat carbs and I douse the Caddy with some Axe body spray. PERFECT! I'm ready to go and he'll think I'm a health conscious recycler  who naturally smells like a 15 year old. This is going to be magic. 

The outside of the car was a different story, The Cape is home to many species of animals and like most things on the Cape, they have a tendency to OD and leave a mess. So my black car looked like a Monet of watercolors...if the pallet being used was bird shit. I drove up to the entrance and opened the door for date standing in front of the Bansky mural of feces while date hopped in. 

You get the idea

We drove up the street, making small talk about where to eat...anything carb conscious I say...the McDonald's receiptS shoved carefully in the console. 

"I just have to make a quick stop first" I say

"Where?" he asks? 

"I just have to run my car through the car wash. I'm just such a neat freak" and pathological liar but whatever 

"Ummm can't we just hose it off when we get back to my place?"

"Well I didn't know we were going your place...and no...I don't really know how to do that" 

I'm a lot of things...but one to do manual labor is not one of them. I had a quick vision of how that could work out...but I decided against it.

"It'll only take 5 minutes. This place is great!"

"Ok..." he looks a bit odd.

I don't want to bore you about how a car wash works in 2015 but let me just tell you that as we approached the guy waving you on...date started sweating. 

"Are you ok?" 

"I just really don't like car washes" 

"oooooook"

"I'll be fine"

"yes you will...because it's a car wash" 

I throw the car into neutral no break and we start our exciting 90 second journey. Date starts to freak the fuck out! 

"Omg omg I hate this" 

"You hate what?!"

"The carwash. The lights, the noises, the enclosed space"

"Ok...clearly we won't be going to Disney on our honeymoon...just close your eyes"

"NO! I KNOW WE ARE STILL IN HERE"

I have no idea what to do. Should I sing him a lullaby? Should I speak softly and tell him it's going to be alright!? I didn't have time.

"I HAVE TO GET OUT!"

"WHAT!? You can't get out! We are IN A FUCKING CAR WASH"

"LET ME OUT!!" He's frantically reaching for the door handle.

"No! You aren't opening my car in the middle of a car wa-" but he did. He opened the door to my car and RAN THROUGH THE REST OF THE CAR WASH. People are obviously starring at him and I am mortified. I finished my regularly scheduled programming and drove to pick date up. 

Date got back into my car SOAKING WET and asked to be driven home to change. I really didn't know what to do. I had to tell someone! I started texting my dad. "You won't believe what happened! this guy just got out of my car at [NAME OF CARWASH] and ran through the rest of it. How crazy is that?" My father texted back several minutes later. 

"Call me" 

That's his line. I don't know what's going to happen on the other end when I do but that's what I get for texting my dad. "Call Me". It's chilling. I told him I'd call him when Date went into his house and I did. Papa Glitter just started asking random questions. 

"What's he look like"

"Where did you meet him"

"What car wash was this?" 

Since my father is really good with the third degree and there is NO POINT in lying to him I told him we met at a bar a few weeks ago, went out once and now I just brought him home because his clothes are soaked because did I mention...he just ran through a car wash. 

My father is silent on the other end. "Are you at 343 Waterview Way?" 

WHAT THE FUCK?!!? Are you tapped into my OnStar?! Is that chip you had implanted behind my ear going off?!" HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE I AM!?!?! 

"You have to leave there. You are in danger." Now, for most people that would strike fear into their heart but honestly, my dad used to say that to me when I went to the Discovery Zone because he was afraid I'd get pink eye in the play pit. I told him I was fine and I would call him later. 

Date invites me in for a glass of wine and I cautiously accept. He barely shuts the door when I there is a loud knock. 

"THIS IS POLICE. OPEN THE DOOR" 

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK 

Date tells me not to worry about it but doesn't answer the door. ummmm I've seen SVU I know how this shit is going to go down. I open the door. Apparently, Date wasn't afraid of car washes. He was afraid being at THIS car wash because just a week earlier he had ROBBED IT AT GUN POINT. I was questioned and told I could go leave and as I was driving away, watching my date who just hours earlier was saying sweet things into my iPhone and planning dates getting loaded into the back of the squad car I couldn't help but think...my father is an absolute freak...but I love him for it. As for date...maybe we can rain check for 5-10 when he posts bail. I can't be TOO picky these days ;)