On Friday night, Sept. 16, I'll be hosting the biggest bachelorette party ever at Suite.
No, I'm not getting married ... but I am a genuine bachelorette. We deserve a celebration too, like, "Congrats for not marrying the wrong guy" or "Good job for not settling!"
So, this is a bachelorette party for everyone — single, engaged, and even married (an anniversary of having girl's night perhaps?).
I'll be giving out free cupcakes from Polka Dot Bakery and bubbly to wash them down.
Free champagne and cupcakes ... are you sold yet? And the largest bachelorette party gets a free VIP table too.
Doors at 9 p.m. See ya there!
The news reported that Cornelius Police responded to two incidents involving rabid foxes recently. Living in Cornelius myself, I couldn't help but wonder — did they mean cougars? Because there sure are a lot of them running around up here. Or, did they mean me?! A younger, not as all mighty version of a cougar.
Considering the last few guys I've dated have been four to even nine years younger than me, perhaps I am a young cougar. But at least I don't appear to be rapid and desperate ... not yet at least.
Just to make sure the news was referring to real, actual rapid foxes running wild (and not me), I called Cornelius Animal Shelter and asked a little more about said incidents. As it turns out, there were two separate incidents over the last month. One fox had bitten a pet, and the pet in turn bit the owner, which is how they found out the fox was rabid. This incident took place around the Caldwell Depot. The other took place near Highway 21 when a rapid baby fox scratched someone. A rapid baby fox scratching someone ... now that sounds like an incident of a college girl getting drunk and starting a fight with her boyfriend.
I was told no incidents have occurred since then, and if you have pets in the area, to be sure they are all updated on vaccinations.
Hide yo' kids, hide yo' wives! But we can remix Antoine Dodson's famous newscast — it's more like, hide your pets, hide your husbands, 'cause these foxes and cougars are scratching everyone up in here.
Recently, I was helping my friend Jordan get all moved into her new apartment. We were moving furniture and spackling and sanding walls — home Improvements way beyond my “Tim the Toolman Taylor” skills.
It made me wish there was a service of men who came and lifted heavy things and fixed up things for single women — in exchange for pizza and beer.
For example, my new flat screen is just leaning against its box because I don’t have a boyfriend to hang it for me, and I cashed my guy friend’s favors in with helping me build a desk … following my emotional breakdown in the middle of Ikea.
Have your pants ever been on fire? ... tell the truth.
I'll be honest: Though my pants have never actually been on fire, I have lied.
I was scheduled to work on a production for a show on USA filming here, starting early this Monday morning. But over the weekend, I was given an opportunity more important to me that would require me to quit this job, while the producer was traveling from L.A. to the East Coast. Not the most professional or polite thing to do, and normally I would have made up a lie to get out of it without looking bad or hindering this contact and connection.
But I figured it would be even more rude to lie, so I wrote him ...
Dear (dude from LA),
I want to tell you that I got some communicable disease, or that I need to get emergency surgery as that would be the only valid excuse for pulling out of the job last minute ... but that would be lying. Basically, I was offered a career and life-altering opportunity. But in order to actually attain it, I will have to leave town next week and thus not work on your job.
I am so, so sorry to do this to you, and I can only hope you can understand. I am as bummed about it as you are now inconvenienced.
Thanks Brittney, congrats on the opportunity and I do appreciate your honesty. I dont get enough of that in L.A.
And the truth shall set you free (and not make you feel like such a bad person)!
This got me thinking about how often people use lies to repair the truth in order to avoid disappointing other people. How many excuses have you made up to get yourself out of something? Lying to parents, teachers, employers and the people we date to tell them what they want to hear, trying to paint the truth white with a lie. Sometimes lies have left my mouth before even filtering it, before my eyes could even gaze up to the right side of my brain to process the lie from the truth, making my lies believable, to even me.
Thats because the person I have lied to the most is myself.
"I am seriously considering getting a boob job. I am even saving up for one."
I originally said that as material in my stand-up act ... but I wasn't joking. Don't judge me I don't want new boobs so I can impress guys. I merely want them so I don't scare them. You see, when you take my bullet-proof-airbag-padded bra off, Victoria's real Secret is revealed: they can turn an A cup into a C cup with their bras. And as a result, men think I am a witch with the magic ability to make my tits disappear. I even took off my bra at the Comedy Zone to display my little magic trick.
I used to be completely against remodeling God's work and being au-naturale, but that was before I became a Panthers cheerleader and they made me lose 10 pounds. The first place it left was my boobs. And so went my natural handful-C cups.
That is so not fair when women lose weight, the first place it goes is their boobs. When men do, not only does their penis not shrink, but it appears larger.
When I stopped cheering and started eating again, my boobs grew a cup size, but left stretch marks.
That's right, I have an A cup with stretch marks on them. You see why I want to get a boob job?
On another, somewhat related note, the check engine light in my BMW comes on just for looking at it funny. Don't be fooled by the label: A Beamer is like buying a shirt from Neiman Marcus it's brand name, but it unravels in the wash just like a cheap shirt from Forever 21. Just because their parts cost more does not make it a better vehicle; it's just a lemon in nice clothing.
And while men's penises don't shrink, they also only have to worry about replacing car parts rather than parts of their bodies. We don't expect them to get a penis implant or a ball tuck.
So why do I feel so insecure to want a boob job to feel good naked?
Though my fancy lemon with a check engine light is much like my body, getting old and breaking down, unlike my car, my body still runs perfectly without the extra parts. But it is nice to know that they can just lift my hood and replace my insecurities ... physically.
I wish NAPA knew how to make body parts in addition to car parts. But I must commend their store employees: They didn't say anything perverted when I marched in there and requested "studs for my rear" ... axle.
As for my boobs, while I can't really rationalize spurgling on new parts because I had to buy car parts, I will be taking itty bitty tit tips. I certainly can't put them on layaway.
But seriously, what do you all think? Are boob jobs a bad idea?
In celebration of New York passing the bill that allows gays to marry, and get divorced, one of my sisters sent me the following card:
So I sent her this one in return:
Sisterly love. But congrats to NYC, I am gay as in happy for them.
Last weekend my sister busted me for texting during my cousin's wedding. What? It was an hour long Catholic mass ceremony. I was bored.
Who does this? ...
Apparently I do. I was actually tweeting, e-mailing, Facebook'ing, and playing Brick Breaker as well. I'm such an @$$hole! I hope they have good cell reception in hell.
The LadyCats aren't the only ones holding auditions this month.
ABC's The Bachelor is coming back to Charlotte to recruit their next Southern star.
Not only did Emily Maynard win the heart of America oh, and Brad Womack last season but former TopCat and current Miss Sprint Cup Kimberly Coon was also on the show.
So out of 25 women, two of them were from Charlotte. Charlotte was the only city in the nation that had two representatives on the show. That's kind of a big deal.
Cason-Point: The Bachelor producers know how great Carolina girls are.
Casting producers from The Bachelor will be at the EpiCentre (210 E. Trade St.) on Thursday, June 16. Registration begins at 4:30 p.m. and on-camera interviews will run through 10 p.m. at SUITE.
This means you can go to Alive After Five first and have a drink to calm the nerves ... or convince you it's a good idea. Either one.
They should be recruiting THE BACHELOR here, not just the girls.
Like Drew Carter. He may be in Cali now, but us Panthers fans still like to claim him here in Charlotte.
Pictured above with Emily. I asked the two of them to pose for the Charlotte yearbook for the best-looking superlative. They're both so nice, they appeased my dumb idea.
The most awkward sexual moment in my adult life took place in Disney World, right on Main Street, Magic Kingdom where I worked as a cast-member in the Walt Disney World College Program.
I took a semester at Virginia Tech to study abroad, in the happiest place on Earth. An internship for which I was merely assigned a job in merchandise retail while wearing a flannel hoop skirt with a shoulder-padded blouse and bow tie.
I worked in the very last store by the exit, where everyone came after the park closed to get their 8X10 photo of the family with Mickey Mouse.
One night, in between pondering why Im getting college credit for operating a cash register ringing up over-priced souvenirs, I noticed a younger, kidless couple waiting in line. Every time I surveyed the line to assess when I could get the hell out of there, I noticed they were surveying me. Blatantly staring at me as though they were waiting for me to make eye contact. I surveyed them back, trying to figure out if I knew them from the College Program. Not registering their faces, I just proceeded to go about my cash register typing.
After catching them eye-raping me a few more times as they patiently waited in line, I felt kind of awkward when they reached the counter. They were both looking at me seductively while holding hands and nibbling each others ears as they whispered stuff back and forth. Only having a minute or so at the counter they got straight to the point.
Hey Brittney (I was wearing a nametag) youre cute, the girl said to me, as though I was a man.
I found it odd and uncomfortable that a woman just complimented me flirtatiously, in front of her boyfriend nonetheless.
Uh, thanks. Do you guys have your photo number? I asked so I could go get their picture.
Then the guy chimed in. We really just wanted to come talk to you.
I could only respond with a facial expression of confusion.
"We want to hang out with you. What are you doing tonight? the girl confirmed.
"She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans than a fancy evening dress. And with her windows rolled down and her hair blown all around, she's a hot Southern mess. She'll take a beer over white wine. A campfire over candlelight. And when it comes to love, well, her idea of a romantic night ..."
Brad Paisley, in his new song "Old Alabama"
Those lyrics pretty much sum me up ... so much so that I'm in the video for "Old Alabama."
I was actually the production coordinator on the shoot and ended up driving vintage cars from Hendrick Performance alongside Kelley Earnhardt and Erin Crocker Evernham legit drivers. So, a little Hollywood secret: They put the Buick I was driving on a trailer hitch, so I wouldn't wreck it.
The video premiered last weekend on the world's largest HD screen at Charlotte Motor Speedway before the Sprint All Star race.
Sh!t my dad says, Mr. Cason edition: "You're not worried about being on the largest HD screen? People will be able to see inside your pores!"
See how you can turn her on; view the video here, via NASCAR.com. All artist royalties from this song will go to tornado relief in Alabama. Brad Paisley rocks ... literally with the band Alabama in this video!
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