Tales of Wit and Charm…

Read this week’s column for In Utah This Week here.  I was lazy with the camera that night, but here are the few pictures that we took. I was far too busy watching the hippies in front of me drop acid and then immediately pass out.

I did appreciate the medics telling them,”If possible try and slow down on your drinking for the remainder of the night.”  This is why I am not in the heath care industry.  I would have said, “Stupid fucking kids, what did you expect would happen? Now if possible, GO HOME AND WASH YOUR HAIR!”  This is where I slightly differ from a caring individual.

My new blog list may not be complete yet, but my life goal certainly is!

Finally I get a chance to see New Kids on the Block again. Milinda and I saw them play on BYU campus when we were in eighth grade. We’re going together again, and this time I’ve promised her I won’t wear a lime green stretchy outfit. Thankfully it is at a different venue this time around. I really don’t want us to get caught at BYU with a flask. I’m terrified of the Mormon police punishing me with a lifetime sentence of polygamy. Eek!

Thanks to everyone who left comments and a link on yesterday’s blog. For me, as a blogger, my favorite part of this site is reading your comments. I can’t wait to delve into all the blog links left. It’s a big list so give me a couple of days to read them all. I’ll get a list of all the links together and post it soon. I promise. But, in the meantime, I have to go put NKOTB’s new song “Summertime” on repeat. Not because I’m obsessed, but because it’s awesome.

In Utah This Week–Pick Your Poison: Bret Michaels chooses his whoriffic winner of ‘Rock of Love,’ then melts hearts in SLC.

When I heard the “Rock of Love” tour was coming to Salt Lake City, there was only one thing to do: GO!

I’ve loved Bret Michaels since that fateful day in junior high school when the bus driver played Every Rose Has Its Thorn on the way home from school. I was thirteen years old; I was in love. I begged and begged my mother to buy me a Poison tape but she refused– she wasn’t big on glam metal. If she had her way, I would have fawned over John Denver, not some lead singer of a band named Poison. That’s right folks; I’ve been disappointing mothers since 1975.

Sunday night my friend, and fellow groupie, Aimee headed out to the ‘burbs to see our beloved perform. As it turns out we weren’t the only girls up for a night of wild Bret. The place was absolutely packed. Luckily, we managed to bypass the line that wrapped around the building, and headed straight in to meet with the tour manager. I begged him to tell me who had won Bret Michael’s heart, but instead he directed me to the bar where the “Rock of Love 2” season finale was to going to be aired shortly.

After ordering our obligatory vodka tonics, we found a quiet corner with a TV just in time to watch the show starting. It wasn’t long before our quiet corner turned into a madhouse. Everyone wanted to see which stripperesque contestant Michaels chose. Out of the two finalists, Amber and Daisy, I liked Amber much better, but appreciate Daisy for the crazy train-wreck that she is. When Michaels announced that Amber was indeed his rock of love, the crowd erupted with cheers and deafening whistles. Apparently train-wreck Daisy wasn’t a favorite of anyone but her plastic surgeon, who incidentally, should be shot for the horrible lip injections she was seen sporting throughout the show.

Shortly after the finale finished, the main event started. I really had no idea what to expect. I didn’t actually read the press release past his name and date of the show. What I thought would be Michaels and a parade of the women from his show, was really an intimate concert with just my beloved. Aimee and I were able to snag a great spot near the stage. I wanted to be close enough to see the sweat glisten off his body, and thankfully I was. The chosen song for Michaels to come on stage to was Guns and Roses’ “Welcome to the Jungle.” I thought it sort of an odd choice since it wasn’t a Poison song, but once he was on stage he announced he’d not only be singing some of his old stuff, but some of his favorite cover songs.

I’ve got to hand it to him; the guy can certainly rock a microphone. After a few songs, he had his bodyguard from the TV show, Big John, pass out beers to the audience. I’m never, ever, throwing that bottle away.

The remainder of the show was mind-blowing; I’m just as much in love with him as ever. And as for the V.I.P. after party? What happens backstage stays backstage. Sorry kids, but my lips are sealed.

Upset you missed the fun? Don’t fret–Bret Michaels is coming back to SLC on July 3rd to kick off his summer Poison tour– info at www.poisonweb.com.

Rlo found himself “accidentally” listening to The Bangles when he was listening to my iTunes. He wasn’t too thrilled and the following conversation is the result:

Me: What’s wrong with the bangles? NOTHING that’s what.

Rlo: And you give AK a hard time?

Me: I do? For what?

Rlo: Loving 80s music.

Me: Dude, The Bangles don’t count. They are a chick band–I’m soooo pro chick in a non-lesbian sort of way.

Rlo: You have the most versatile vagina around. You vote with it, listen to music with it, and pretty much just do whatever it tells you to.

Me: So what.

Rlo: You are so your vagina’s bitch.

Me: Oh Rlo, you’re just jealous because the last vagina you saw was in a textbook.

And then he immediately stopped talking to me. I can’t imagine why.

Driving into work today I accidentally had my iPod gangsta mix playing. Don’t judge me! Actually you can, I certainly would.

My phone rang and I hit speaker and answered it assuming it would be my brother bugging me about his latest prison tool obsession. It wasn’t. It was a client. Which is cool, I’m all for the clients I like calling me. Though, I have a feeling she may have a difficult time taking me serious after hearing “Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta” blaring in the background.

Oh well, such is life… you can’t win them all.

It was a rough night last night. It started when I couldn’t drive up my brother’s semi-steep driveway due to massive amounts of snow, immediately followed with forgetting the garage code.

When we finally got into the house the alarm went off. I couldn’t get it to stop and Carter immediately started to cry. Followed by Hannah yelling because Carter wouldn’t stop crying. Ten very loud minutes later I convinced the alarm company I wasn’t there to harm the children, because if so, I would have DONE IT ALREADY!

I knew there was only one thing that would cheer the little buggers up: “Baby Got Back.”

And it so, so did: The fact the kids now know the word horny guarantees I’ll never be asked to stay overnight with the kids again. It was totally worth it.