There are many words that can be used to describe me depending on who you ask. Without much thought I’d say adorable, flawless and sassy. If you ask the woman who used to do my eyebrows, the key word would probably be satan. But keep in mind, Abdinah, destroyed my eyebrows, tried to blame it on me and almost lost her life in the process. What am I without my eyebrows? The answer is nothing. Ask my friends what words they’d use to describe me? Hot mess. Accurate. Ask my brother? He’d say Kris Jenner. Ask my parents? Spoiled. But what words would my grandparents use to describe me? Gorgeous. And Straight. Wait…..
Ok, so how I put this…… My grandparent’s don’t know that I’m gay. My parents won’t let me tell them because they are old and have health problems and are afraid they’re going to die sooner of heartbreak. Listen to me, no one with eyebrows this perfect is straight. I’m on vacation in Florida with my grandparents and they walked in on me dancing in the mirror full out like I was on stage at the VMAs. The only thing that was missing was obviously a nude body suit and fireworks. Every girl DOES want me and I want them. I want to comb their hair, talk about our feelings and then look at pictures of Adam Levine shirtless. My grandpa tells everyone that I have a crush on Britney Spears. No, Grandpa, I wish I was Britney Spears. Big. Fucking. Difference. Being a comedian truly comes naturally to me because my life is a big joke. The other night my relatives tried to set me up on a date with a Sri-Lankan girl. Let me tell you something, Jesus didn’t die for this. What was I supposed to do? Pretend to go on a date with this girl and talk about baseball? There’s no half-time show in baseball. As funny as that would have been, I declined and they couldn’t understand why. I obviously had no choice but to explain by saying I only have a thing for girls who are black midgets. What would you have done?
Most people would have a very hard time having to be something they’re not in front of their family. Most people, are not comedians and full time assholes. For me, this is a present from baby Jesus. Every time I get asked the opinion of a hot girl I giggle to myself because that girl IS hot. She’s so hot that she should be my backup dancer when I hit the club. Don’t outshine me, sweetie, there’s only one superstar here tonight. We saw a girl in a bikini and my grandpa goes “I know if I wasn’t by the pool you would have gone over to her and picked her up.” Picked her up to go where? To get pedicures? My grandpa always talks about my little brother and how he is girl crazy. My grandpa looks at me and goes “I know where he get’s that from, right Nick?” I have one response and it’s “YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Who wants a Pomegranate Martini?”
I know my grandparents have a dream about me finding a happily ever after with a nice Italian girl. Little do they know, my idea of a happy ending is being locked in the bathroom stall of Chili’s with Justin Bieber. They’ll never live to see me walk down the aisle. They can, however, see me strut down the runway in a fedora and leather pants and booty pop to Toxic. What would you prefer? That’s what I thought. Hopefully my grandparents never find this blog or my diary or any of the fucking disasters I’ve been romantically tied to.
TWEET YOUR FAVORITE PART AND OR THOUGHTS TO ME ON TWITTER TO @NICKYPARISBITCH!!!!! This has been one of the funniest posts I’ve written and I hope you love it…. Adios!