Fifty, Fucking Fabulous, and Just Getting Started

It’s the eve eve of my 50th birthday and I’m laid up like a retired icon watching UFC, the Astros, and OU softball at the same damn time… because of course I am… just reflecting on one very obvious thing:

I’m kind of a big fucking deal.

Let’s start with the casual flex: I quit drinking at 47. Not “cut back.” Not “on a journey.” I fucking quit. Didn’t waiver. Didn’t relapse.

Same day… Cigarettes. Gone. Who does that? At 47?! People half my age can’t even quit texting their ex. I dropped two addictions like they owed me money and never paid it back.

Here I am, on the edge of 50, about to add AUTHOR to my resume like it’s just another day at the office.

My first book… Graceland Is Closed On Tuesdays and Other Waiter Tales… is basically finished. Let me be very clear about something: everything I do ends up being the best. I don’t make the rules, I just live by them. So yes, obviously, this book is heading straight to the New York Times Best Sellers list. I assume they’re already making room.

For years I thought writing a book was a fantasy. I just needed to live enough life to have something worth saying. And now? Oh, I’ve got content. I’ve got STORIES. I’ve got enough material for ten books and the attitude and drive to sell every single one of them.

Life hasn’t exactly been soft and cozy. My family story? Not giving Hallmark. My parents? Not exactly front row at the “supportive and present” awards ceremony. But let’s be real… so many of us in the gay community know that story. We grow up, we toughen up, and we get funny as fuck to survive it. Comedy is the best mask for many of us.

That thick skin? Custom made. 50 years in the oven.

Not everyone gets to hit this milestone. My sister didn’t. So yeah, I’m gonna celebrate the hell out of it. I deserve an award, a parade, and a book sponsorship.

I’ve worn a lot of hats in my life, but this AUTHOR era? This is the one. This is the glow-up!

Also… let’s talk about the social cleanse. Because whew! Cutting off my MAGA, Trump-loving, “let’s control everyone else’s life” friend circle? Not easy.

Especially being a gay man from a red state… that shit comes with history. My morals are not up for negotiation. Love is love, people should live how they want, and if that bothers you, that’s YOUR problem… not mine.

Has it been lonely? Yeah, a little bit.
Has it been worth it? Fuck yes.

What that did was give me time.

Space.

Energy.

I used it to WRITE.

I forgot how much I needed that. How much I love it. How much I’m actually really fucking good at it!

Sometimes I sit back and think… did I really have the BALLS to do all of this?!

Turns out… yeah. I fucking did!

So here I am:
Almost 50.
Sober.
Cigarette-free.
Writing books.
Cutting out the bullshit.
And still hot, hilarious, and thriving.

When Graceland Is Closed On Tuesdays and Other Waiter Tales drops and hits that Best Sellers list?…
Just know I told you first.

And after that?

I’m writing the REAL story.
The one I’ve been living for 50 years now!

Buckle up! It’s gonna be BUMPY!

Xoxo, AB 💅💄💋