Ugly crying and aliens in our midst
Hey, y’all. Why is it that as we get older we get more emotional? Maybe it’s just me. I blame NBC — between American Ninja Warrior, America’s Got Talent and World of Dance, I have ugly-cried 13 times this week. Those damn backstories on these folks are made just to get you all up in your feelings and I fall hook, line and sinker every time.
Ninja Warrior had a guy who gave a friend a kidney and does his run to bring awareness to organ donation. They even have the girl whose life his kidney saved there to cheer him on. I was such a blubbering mess by the time he hit that buzzer that I was ready to give away all of my organs. America’s Got Talent had a guy who had adopted a whole bunch of kids — like six of ’em — and when he sang… oh my Gaga, even Simon Cowell cried. I was damn near inconsolable.
Let’s not even get me started on the damn internet. The adorable little girl that found out that she was being adopted and immediately busted into tears. Well little girl, so did I. Any video of an animal rescue and I will do that cry that children do when they are little: mouth wide open, no sound, no air. It looks like they are gonna pass out so the parent has to blow in their face to get them to breathe. I do that.
I even remember the first time I cried because of a movie. I was 8 or 9 years old. I was at my grandparents’ house in Italy, Texas. They had just gotten cable, which was a big deal back then. They were the first people I knew that had HBO — very bougie. The movie was called Without a Trace. An 8-year-old didn’t come home from school one day, and the mother spent the entire movie overacting and being upset. The last 10 minutes of the movie, the detective finds him and brings him home.
The scene that got me was the mother walking down the street with her groceries and the boy’s dog. She realizes there are cops parked outside her townhome about half a block away and she stops. Her son steps out of the detective’s car and she throws the groceries and the dogs leash to the side and takes off running. The kid yells “Mommy!” and then they embrace. My tears started to flow. I turned to make sure my papaw wasn’t looking but he was wiping away tears into the hankie he always carried. My daddy told me boys don’t cry, but my papaw let me know it was OK.
During our show in the Rose Room, whenever I find out that a parent is there with their gay son or daughter, I have to bite my lip to keep my emotions in check. There is something beautiful about a mom or dad being supportive enough to go out to the club and see all of the parts of their kid’s life. Every time I see that happen, I buy the parent a shot. Plus, I usually owe them at least a shot after the very inappropriate things I will inevitably say.
Speaking of kids with parents at the show, one night this guy of about 20 asked me to mess with his mom because it was her first time at a gay club. I said sure. I pulled her onstage and asked her if she was OK with her son being a cocksucker. Look, I know that is awful, but it can be really funny. I’ve used that line many times; most parents just laugh, and a couple have said “I absolutely am OK with my son being a cocksucker,” but this poor lady. My instincts were way off that night. She just busted into tears. I felt so horrible. Her son had apparently just told his mom he was gay just a few hours before.
Who would do that to their mother? I wanted to wring that kid’s neck. I apologized and bought her drinks the rest of the night. To this day — and that was like 10 years ago — I roll my eyes when I see that guy but I always ask how his mom is doing.
Now, I want to ask a serious question. Does anyone know anything about the government building at 4211 Cedar Springs Road? It’s on the corner of Cedar Springs and Douglas, where the parade route starts. You may have never even noticed it until that drugged-out guy decorated it for Christmas, complete with a tree and lights back in, like, March. It’s a very nondescript, tan, three-story building with heavily tinted goldish mirrored windows. It creeps me out. I have never seen anyone go in or out of it, and there are always cars parked in the back.
I do have a theory, though: I think that it is a front for a Men in Black-type of organization. Think about it: There are a lot of weird folks running around Oak Lawn. Maybe they are escaped aliens from that government facility. I bet that inside that building there is an elevator that goes miles underground. It’s the only way you can get to the giant city under our little gay world. Remember Resident Evil? I bet it’s just like that but hopefully with better security.
It looks haunted or something. It always looks like there is someone or something watching you from behind that reflective glass, waiting… but for what? Did you see Cabin in the Woods?
Maybe it houses all of the world’s monsters and we are one lazy, bored security guard away from certain doom. What if it holds a secret lab that is making the next super flu? I’ve read The Stand — could the next pandemic be just down the street from that place with the great street tacos? Oh, the humanity. Thank God for Trump’s Space Force! Finally someone to police the skies. (Sarcasm! If he found out there really are aliens, from space and not Mexico, he’d say fuck the wall, let’s build a dome! Hell, maybe he is the alien sent to our world to destroy us from the inside. Sneaky fucking space aliens! Your plan is working.)
Y’all know I’m bullshittin’ ya, but I bet next time you drive by that cold, creepy building, you will think about what I said. But what if I am right. I guess if I disappear soon, then you know I was taken by them to shut me up. Beware! You could be next!!
I am weird.
Remember to always love more, bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova.
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