Confessions of a Bibliophile











{January 15, 2009}   Rebuttle Becomes Embarassment

So I had every intention of this blog being in response to Nikki G’s about that time that she met Larry Bird yesterday. Actually, that’s not true. This was actually just going to be a slight mention thrown in to my previous blog, but it turned into a monstrosity and took on a life of it’s own. Why I am willing to throw this information into cyberspace of my own accord is beyond me, but here goes.

1993 Brittany loved her some country music mens. Looking back I realize that even then I had an odd taste when it came to the fellas. First, the story that spawned this blog is that in 1993 (or the year of I-hate-my-mom-for-making-me-get-this-hair-cut as I like to call it) 8-year-old Brittany had the pleasure of attending a concert at the Louisville Motor Speedway starring none other than Hal Ketchum. Who is Hal Ketchum you may ask? It doesn’t matter. Point is I LOVED him.

hal

Now, somehow my mom and I worked our way right in front of the stage and through the entire concert Hal sang to me, and he even winked at me once!!! *swoon* After the concert we got a chance to get his autograph and as he was signing my beloved Billy Ray Cyrus shirt (more to come on that later) he said, “Hey! You’re that pretty girl I was winkin’ at.”  It was a good day.

Moving on to the next embarassingly haired fellow that 8-year-old me loved. Marty Stewart. Who? Him:

marty-stewart

Not really sure what the attraction to Marty Stewart was. All I know is that I remember constantly writing his name and pretending it was an actual autograph from him. Also, when I played house he was often “my husband” except my name was Kimberly…yeah, I don’t know either.

A very exciting day in 1993 occured when I went to the mailbox and found a certificate stating that I, Brittany Gray, was in fact an OFFICIAL member of the Alan Jackson fan club. I loved that blonde hair underneath that white cowboy hat, And those uber light uber tight  jeans with the ripped knees he wore, WOOOOOO DOGGIES! Don’t even get me started.

alan_jackson

alan-jackson

He’s was so special that he gets 2 pictures! 13 years or so later I was heartbroken to hear that the guy I was dating had a grandma who did not like Alan Jackson. Baffled I asked him the reasoning behind this madness. Apparently Mr. Jackson was quite rude to her when he was employed at the KMART in Newnan, Georgia.

And finally we come to him. The creme de la creme. The love of 8-year-old me’s life. I had and ENTIRE WALL devoted to this man. I had a t-shirt with my picture photoshopped right next to his so it looked like we were standing side by side. I think I may have cried when I got to go to his concert. I’m talking about none other than the one and only Achy Breaky Heart, Billy Ray Cyrus

billy-ray-cyrus-2

billy-ray-cyrus-5

Those 2 pictures were two of favorite, but they are only the tip of the mullet. Now, I have a confession to make. 25-year-old Brittany would still drop everything and run away with Billy Ray . If you ask me he’s only gotten better with age.

billy-ray-cyrus-21

‘course 25-year-old Brittany is still convinced she’s gonna grow up and be Reba McEntire.

There. Confession over. Strangely enough I do not feel better.

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I LOVED THIS BLOG!!!!! the love for Marty Stewart greatly explains your same love for Joe Dirt I think……

And I give you my blessing to become Miley’s Step mom!



BEST. THING. EVER! You’ve really outdone yourself BG.

Also– I’m surprised anyone you’ve dated since I’ve known you is even able to function WITHOUT a mullet because you have TERRIBLE taste in man-hair. In my 8 year old mind any man with a mustache and long hair is exactly what a “stranger danger” guy looked like and if I got too close to him he’s steal me or try and get to me to try drugs. THUS- my clean-cut lovers.

YOU on the other hand- are disgusting…no- I take that back- 8 year-old you is disgusting. (But an incredible blogger) NICE WORK!



Nikki- I had the same thoughts when I was 8! that a man with a mullet was one to be weary of. And to this day I am more attracted to clean shaven somewhat preppy boy style.

Could it be the lands of nasaly accents and ridiculously chilly weather from which we hail from that have affected our outlook on what is attractive on mens? I know I didn’t see a mullet till I moved to IN and was scared of them for a long time.



Dustyk says:

Haha! If a thick country accent and bad hair are the keys to your heart, you should give up Columbus for Brownstown, where you’ll never be lonely! LOL! Blue light special on mullets now in effect, yo.



Can’t. I’m related to most of Brownstown.



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