Hello everyone, it’s Adam. Today’s Valentine’s Day. Have fun with that.
Ok, I guess as the person to tell you events that are going on in the OKC metro, I should mention a couple of ideas for the day of love. They’re not very “lovey-dovey”, but they will entertain you and your special one for the night. At least the weather has finally decided to not be a jerk, so that is a good thing.
I am also suggesting a post-Valentine’s event for the good of your ears and brain. See, I care for you for more than just one day. You are on my mind all weekend. I consider myself a very poor man’s Cupid, basically because I was born in February and I have red hair, the same color of Valentine’s Day and love. How many people have a matched in my life? Zero. Actually I suck at being Cupid. Oh well.
Looks like I’ll be spending this Valentine’s alone again with only my wife, my girlfriend and this side-chick that I occasionally hang out with to keep me romantic company. Don’t get me wrong, they’re great and all, but let’s be honest: they’re no sexy local celebrities.
What is it about local celebrities, the newsfakers and tastemakers of OKC, that is so much more sexually appealing than whatever piles of wet garbage that we’re currently forced to make love to every night? Is it the fame? The personalities? The politics? The sheer fact that they’re better than us because they oftentimes have a camera pointed in their direction? The probable idea that they’re all members of some Eyes Wide Shut-style den of perversity that only the most beautiful and powerful of the Metro can ever gain admittance to?
While we may truly never know, I know that I can’t be the only one to close my eyes and mentally dramatize what it would be like to be the significant other of a low-rent local name. So let’s all lie back and turn the Lost Ogle into the Lust Ogle. Let the Eros forces of the universe let love inside our hearts, lust inside our loins, and imagine, just imagine, what it would be like to go on a romantic Valentine’s Day date out with some of my favorite-ish local celebs.
FALLIN’ FOR CHRISTINA
Oh, that cotton candy hair. Do you think it smelled as good as it looked? Together, as Christina and I ride on my turbo jet-ski across Lake Hefner, her petite limbs wrapped around my ever expansive torso, holding tight as her pink coif mingles in the wind with my long Native American locks, I take a deep inhalation and yes! It smells like a State Fair snack wagon!
I’m in love.
Back on the shore, we enjoy a light lunch I packed of Chobani yogurt and those little cheeses wrapped in red wax while she produces a mini-Korg synthesizer from her knock-off Birkin and, together, we write a hip alternative rock song that will hopefully be used by drag performers at the Hi-Lo for years to come.
No Christina, your mom isn’t invited! We laugh.
Love at first sight is an amazing thing and within hours, we’re having a Unitarian pastor marry us at the Drum Room, but, when my insatiable like of their fried chicken leaves me too winded to perform my husbandly duties that night, she throws a cut-out bin copy of her latest album at me and has the marriage immediately annulled. It helps to have friends in high places, I guess.
In a fit of depression, I hang myself outside the Governor’s Mansion.
Last night, News 9′s Adrianna Iwasinski took a break from being a low-level reality TV star to file a special report on self-defense classes being taught in Norman. It may be the most unintentionally funny report News 9 has aired since the Dollar General store manager beat a thief over the head with an aluminum baseball bat.
The News 9 transcript helps set everything up:
Every year, hundreds of women in Oklahoma are hurt by strangers or even by someone they know or love. Some of these women are even killed in those violent attacks.
But now a local police officer down in Norman is teaching women how to fight back. The course he teaches is called “My Body, My Life” and is taught once a month at Norman Regional Hospital. The purpose of the class is to teach women how to empower themselves. It turns out their voice may be their greatest weapon.
The women who take the course can be seen screaming and flailing, but they are not throwing a tantrum. They are actually learning what to do should someone try to attack them or kidnap them in a public place. It’s called the flop, and it could just save your life…
Real quick, is the mansplaining of violence against women really necessary? Obviously, the first thing that comes to mind when I see a woman screaming and flailing on the ground while attempting to kick an attacker is that she’s throwing a “tantrum.” She probably just missed her soaps, broke a nail or didn’t get to pick out her movie on Netflix.
Anyway, the demeaning nature of the transcript is overshadowed by the sights and sounds of the video. It’s unintentionally hysterical. Instead of using “tantrum,” Adrianna could have gone with “exorcism,” “bad trip,” “mental hospital,” “nervous breakdown,” “meth,” “primal scream therapy,” “Serge Ibaka nude” and/or “lady who made that strange sound at old OKC Hornets games when other teams shot free throws.”
Check it out:
I guess sponsoring shitty Thunder seats wasn’t enough for them. Now the folks at Love’s are trying to put their name on bad holidays, too.
Earlier this week, Love’s Travel Stops (I assume) issued a self-congratulatory press release announcing that Governor Fallin and Mayor Cornett have partnered up to declare February 14th “Love’s Day.” Ironically enough, that’s what’s the prostitutes who hang out at Love’s have been calling Valentine’s Day for years.
One Oklahoma City TV station was desperate enough to take the PR bait.
Tuesday afternoon I was at my house. Alone. Sitting around trying to distance myself from the fact that I had nothing worth writing about and racking my brain for possible ideas. There is so much negativity happening in our great state right now, and the fact that Valentine’s Day is fast approaching didn’t help my uneasiness. I needed something. Something to remind me that there are still promising people here that are worth being enthusiastic about. A sign from the universe to let me know that we had not been forgotten. Something to believe in; Something pure…
And then, it happened…
I looked up at my television at just the right time. Divine intervention had struck. This face was staring back at me.
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