Famous Girl

Testicles…

That’s a word that stuck out from my New Years transition. Sometimes I forget that wrinkly sack of glory is on display for the world to see on a minute to minute basis, until someone brings it up in conversation. Wait…hold up…way too far in the story, back up. Where was I? Oh, so it’s evening of New Years Eve. At this point, I’m well past the legal limit, but I made sure to keep steady and control my bladder as I flew (one out of two ain’t so shabby…sorry bald guy below in the crimson coat…you looked like a target). I eventually landed upon my destination. Where you ask? Well I’m not allowed to say or something like that…but it was a mansion, and all the guests have been told to wear masks resembling animals (reminds me of my dream from a few weeks back… could this be the circle becoming full and perfect *eyes get big….from liquor dilation…false alarm*).

Apparently this was way more exquisite of an event than I had anticipated. Limos pull up and everyone is elegantly dressed with their identities hidden as their drivers drop them off. It was not quite my taste, but I was invited and the host paid me and Jeff’s back rent which was reaching five figures around this time. Plus there were allegedly free drinks…and I wanted them in or around my mouth. I walked up and was allowed to go straight in. But not before being prompted to put on my mask by the doorman. “Ohh, how delicious you look today” were the last words the doorman said before I swiftly shot him in the baby toe…baby toes are the weaklings of the toe family. I did look like the Easter bunny with the mask on though, so that was kind of quick tempered on my part.

I walked around a bit and saw that I was uninterested in the boring banter of the guests. I take a few drinks…I’m fucked up quick. Then the world is a daze for a few minutes. I remember peeing…shooting people with well timed love bullets…dancing on a table with some red headed tiger woman, doing the money dance…punching some guy in the dick because he asked why my testicles were out…yeah, that’s were we were, cool.

So my next memory is of me puking my guts up off the balcony. There were only ten minutes left until the new year and I would call this a success by how I turned this party around. Clearly this was the reason I was here. As soon as I could see straight, I’d fly home before the inevitable orgy.

Then all of a sudden my ass was smacked. Pistols drawn, both of the barrels found themselves pointing at two nipples…well I didn’t actually see the nipples but anatomy states that they would be in the general vicinity behind this red dress. I look up to see a woman who adorned a fox mask (dreams becoming real…I digress).

“You have a cute tush” she states.

“I just threw up…clearly you caught one of my stray bullets. I’ll save you the trouble, you don’t really love me.”

She then explains to me that she had just left her room and didn’t know I had run a muck, for this was her party. She then revealed who she was through a whisper in my ear that was as delicate as a rose in bloom.

“You’re that girl from that show?” I begin to say before her finger is placed over my lips then stroked down slowly, making the bottom one make that popping noise as it bounced.

“Yes I am little Cupid. This is my house…I am the one that invited you. I wanted no one to know that it was me so that’s why masks are required kind sir. I need you and your talents love. Whatever the costs, I am more than willing to pay.”

I look her up and down. Without a word she knows that I am unable to turn away from someone with a heavy heart…and I could see that hers was just that. The person she is portrayed to be on TV is nothing like what i’m seeing. I nod, and she speaks her dilemma.

“As you know, I am in a very public relationship with a rapper, but what most don’t know is that he isn’t even into me. You see he has a boyfriend.”

“I’m not shocked. The guy wears low rise jeans, and cowboy boots with spurs and a polka dot ruffled shirt. If you’re asking me to undo that, then I’m not the one. He’s happy as shit even though he is a gangster.”

“Of course I wouldn’t want you to undo that. He is a nice guy and I love his boyfriend. Mines is more of a personal problem. You see, clearly that relationship is a fabrication to give our public personas more intrigue. In actuality, I am in love…with a P.A.”

“What’s that? A portable asshole? I resent this statement! I’m not that portable!”

“Ohmigod! You’re so funny! No loverboy, a P.A. is a production assistant. A stage hand if you will. But for me the undateable. No one would allow it.”

“Tell me about this fellow.”

“He is sooooo totally funny, and cute. We met while on season three of my show. He was supposed to find these shoes for me and he brought me the wrong ones. I was so angry, that I started throwing a tantrum. He just stood there and laughed at me. I told him I would get him fired…but then asked him what was so funny anyway. He said that I’m really cute when my nose is scrunched up while yelling. I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t tell if I was smiling, but I hoped he didn’t catch it. He then told me that the shoes he got me would look so much better anyway as he spoke on how petite I was and these would accentuate my legs. I told him flattery would get him nowhere. He then sat me down, lifted my leg and took off my shoe. With a swift motion we slid the new one on, as he slowly caressed my ankle, I could hear his breath as he did, and I’m sure through my ankle he could feel the heightened pace of my pulse.”

“I think my left nipple is hard.”

“Silly Cu… wait it is…”

“…”

“……It’s so much harder than the other one though?”

“…” *Thumps other one. It gets firm…and red…* “Ouch…continue”

“Where was I? Oh, so he tells me his name and it surges through my body. He said if I needed anything, to make sure I called him, he would be my personal man-slave. Once he left…I looked in the mirror…and scrunched my nose. The blushing occurred immediately. For the next few months, we would get particularly close. We would talk for hours every night, play fight when the cameras and staff were not in sight. He would put me in my place whenever I had my tantrums, and eventually our bodies would pulsate to each other as he gave me the most violent eruptions I had ever felt. I listened to his dreams and knew he would make a great director one day and he got to know the real me.”

“Well…my work here is done. The hell is the problem?”

“About two months ago he told me that  he didn’t want to be my secret anymore. He got a promotion to be a casting assistant and felt that I shouldn’t be ashamed of him. The thing is, I could only think about what people would say. I didn’t want him to face the scrutiny of dating someone like me. I know I’m a personality and I know that he would be attacked and criticized. So I let him go before I could hurt him. I didn’t know the hurt that would follow”.

“Just get him back. Doesn’t sound that hard.”

“Not that simple. You see, he moved on. Got him a cute little girl, and she is just so fucking sweet. I stalk him Cupid. Twitter, Facebook, bushes, 2nd floor bedroom window, yoga class, men’s bathroom. You name it, I do it. But he seems so happy. Sometimes I wonder if he may think about me. Hard to decipher tweets. I guess what I need is for you to shoot him so that he can leave her and come back to me.”

“So that you two can be happy together and you can make this whole thing known?”

“Not quite. I just want him to love me enough to understand that until he becomes a director, it is best to just keep us away from the public eye. I just want him to be mine again.”

“First off…I’m proud you didn’t say “mines” again. Mines blow people up. It’s “mine”. Psyche taught me that, as well as other dumb grammatical stuff. Second off, I’m not doing that shit.”

“Excuse me testicle boy? (See how people are using the word of the day. Go ahead, you give it a shot after reading this :-)”

“You can’t want someone to just bend to your beacon call. I mean, I understand the whole not wanting to put him in the public eye thing, but you have to give a little. You can’t go out on a real date with the bloke? Jeez, and then you get mad when he finds what he wants? Even calling me to make him fall in love with you is horrible. Look, I’ll break a rule, just for you. the guy loves you. He is madly in love with you. Doesn’t care about the money, glamour, fame, none of it. He just loves you. But you on the other hand, love all that other stuff, and he is just a plus. He had to let you go and see what it was like to be adored.”

“So where does that leave me. I miss him…”

“Well tell him. But don’t tell him if you know that you aren’t ready for what he wants, because you could seriously get your heart broken with the real truth of his new situation. And for god’s sake, stop stalking him. That’s just not healthy…and not helping your cause.”

“I can’t even look at his twitter?”

“Umm…it’s probably best if you unfollow him. No worries, you can follow me. Retweet me…@Loveless_Cupid (shameless plugging for the fun of it…Hey we pay alot for this website). Besides, it will give you a clear view of what you want. You get to see life without him, and life with him. Plus if he comes back, then you know it’s real.”

“Right now you care about what people think. See what it’s like if you let people have their way. You already know how it is on the other foot. The world sees you as one way, but if you truly want too, you can show them something different. A Wise man told me the the two most powerful words in the world…”

“Red bottoms?”

“No…I am.”

“I am?”

“Yes. You are whatever you want to be. It just starts with that. You can be a great girlfriend to the guy you love.”

“So a poor person can just say they are rich? They would be lying.”

“Not if they believe it. If you really believe something, your body will go into auto pilot and your actions would do what it takes to make said thing happen. If you are having trouble accepting your “I am” as truth, then just add a few more words to it and let the magic happen.”

“What are those?”

“I am…and I am proving it to the world. So everyday, you can make strides to show the world who you really are.”

She looks at me, then to the sky. A tear cascades down her face, and a smile shows.

“You’re right. I will not force my ways on him. I will take time and analyze myself and what I really want in life. Even if not with him, I see what has been missing to keep me happy and I will find it Cupid. Thank you for helping me see the light.”

The crowd in the ballroom goes crazy. The new year has just begun. She seems to have gotten her fresh start right in time. I walk to the edge to fly off, but before I can go, I hear her tell me one last thing.

“I am a caring woman, who is ready to give my heart to the most amazing man on earth, my future husband…and I am proving it to the world.”

Prove it love…prove it. Happy 2013 people…drinky time.

-Loveless Cupid