Hello cool people who will actually read this. Welcome to the Jungle. Seriously…My wandering mind is no joke. Grab your Purell and put your primary care physician on speed dial. WOW. In retrospect, that was a BIG intro. Can’t top it… But you’re still here, right? Awesome.
So I am the MBD… blahblahblah. I don’t like to talk about myself unless it is funny, so here are some random funnies about me that I am not ashamed to admit.
First thing, if you get a major run on sentence, I am sorry. My Mac is whack and yes, I did coat it with peanut butter,LEAVEMEALONE!
Blahblah… First story, wait, I have to pee…
OK, back. I went to college… but then I kinda wandered off. I am envious of my friends that stayed the course and got that piece of paper. So if you are reading this and you are in college. STAY. Don’t be a weenie like me. I suppose it couldn’t have been that bad. I left school to do improv comedy in a boys club called Something Dada. They rule. Taught me how to be a reeeeeeeeeel whoah-man. You know, light a fire, punch a kidney, tell a great joke, realize who’s a douche and who isn’t… cheers to them… I think they are still found at cababretdada.com if not, come TRYTOFIGHTMEIWILLKILLYOU.
Anyway, funnies… I swallowed two pennies when I was five. I had already been to the hospital alot for falling. Apparently, you aren’t allowed to feed your kids whiskey. ANYWAY (that isn’t true my parents are saints…moving on). SO haha, I DID swallow pennies and got SO scared at the idea of going back to General Hospital that I barked them up at my parents demands. Bonding, gotta love it.
I suppose you wanna hear about my singing, TOO BAD! I got a back story, Seamus. I am sure that nobody reading this is named Seamus, but humor me. I will find a way to post my baby pics through the GENIUS that set this up: CASKEY HUNSADER. Look him up, read his blogs/vlogs, support him, he is an amazing person. I am the youngest of 4 kids, but it’s a disfunctional Brady bunch… here it is:
Mary Ellen: my Mom
Her kids; Deann, Christine and Mary Bridget
Brian: my Dad
His kids; Trevor and Mary Bridget
See that? CROSSOVER!! My Mom had two girls before me and my Dad had a son before me, making me the only child of their marriage making me the youngest/only… yes. I am the baby and I love my siblings like the Ponderosa Steak House loves bringing us back for the full frontal dessert bar. YUM CITY.
With me so far? Sweet.
I was a big mouth growing up. Not gossip, just loud. By volume big mouth. I sang around the house to the COOLEST music, thanks to my parents. Don’t get me wrong, I had a hubcap sized picture of Joey McIntyre from New Kids on the Block steadily anchored on my jean jacket. But there was a calling underneath all that MC Hammer, Bel Biv Devoe, Vanilla Ice banality and that was the freedom to choose what was “real”music (aka, the music I was raised on) and the shit that made you prance around your living room watching MTV up until you parents came up the drive and you had to turn off the TV and run to your room pretending to study.
Pop music will always “BE”. Whether you like it or not. I do. It makes me laugh and think of how easy it is to crack a smile.
So wanna hear about my first paying gig?
Mrs. Schuller, the gym teacher (I apologize if that isn’t the correct spelling) had me called down to the office… All I could think of was…what did I do? Am I in trubbs, etc… Since I was coming up as a singer, she wanted me to sing at her mother-in-law’s funeral. Apparently, her mother-in-law was a radio star in the 40’s and she asked me if I knew the song “Sentimental Journey”. I lied and said “yes”. Why not? I didn’t think that I would have to do more than a couple bars at a wake… in a funeral home. WRONG. I had to meet the family at HOLY CROSS CEMETARY . The church service was OVER. I met them AT THE GRAVE SITE. I WAS 14!!! I stood there waiting for my gym teacher to give me a sign. They did the whole “There are many rooms in my Father’s house” thing and I didn’t think I would be needed. They were lowering this beautiful elderly woman into the ground and my teacher just nodded at me… MEANING, start singing… So I did. EVERYONE started crying. BALLING. Because they were mourning the memory of a loved one… But I’ll BE! If there wasn’t a more akward first gig, lemme know. To top it off, my teacher was tall and lean and beautiful, holding an envelope after the service. She handed it to me and walked away. $50. So X-Files. My first paid gig. Til next time, my babies!
