Monday, July 17, 2017

BUSTED! pt.1

we've ALL suffered thru many odd or reprehensible occurrences in life

like fer instance...take the the Anglo-Zanzibar war...

SPAM

and then there was that one time 13 years back...
when i ventured out to some local homo shithole fer showtunes nite

i've been in my fair share of shithole's from town to town...lemme tell you...most of them have been usually on all 4's begg'n for it...and nothing says homo heaven more than bein' in a seedy leather bar belt'n out broadway hits with a bunch of beer guzzle'n...ritual bath'n man titties in tank tops that could barely keep a tit mouse dry in a drizzle...
let alone hold a tune...but oddly enough though...there i was...pretty much kill'n time with my friend Sally May  a box of Franzia...try'na get into the spirit...by soak'n up the spirits...til i hadda pick up 2 of my siblings and Joan Crawford at the airport when they crossed the border from margaritaville at midnite

it's funny though how the same group of non hetero's that cruised me on-line an hour earlier...now all of a sudden wanted nothin' to do with me after they found out i was in fact thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...cuz they're look'n fer someone 
more "str8 act'n and appear'n"...yet the 2nd Madonna's "don't cry for me Argentina" appeared on screen...these "macho str8 act'n n appear'n" burly bears...cubs...and their counterparts...would raise their fists in unison (after they pulled them outta their dates flap jacked ass of course) caress'n the dried on pearl necklace they fergot to wash off from their neck from the nite before...all while clutch'n tightly onto their napkins and wave'n them in unison as the QUEEN would erupt into song on the casa rosada above the crowd 

well...once you've seen that...it's all down hill from there...but anywho...

as we tic-tac-toed our way thru the sea of toads that nite...we made our way to the outdoor patio fer some not so fresh smoke filled air...consist'n
of bacon breath and bad b.o. with just a subtle hint of someone who'd soaked much too long in their after bath body splash...who turned out to be this stylish hag that had lost her fag...who had made some comment about my irresistible almond shaped irish eyes as she passed
by...hey...i can only report the facts...and the fact was...of course she would become my new best friend...well...for at least the next 45 minutes...why not! (sorry Peetrinella but you weren't there)
she had this sorta flirty innocence that the box of Franzia i was with that nite loathed...well...cuz she hadn't offered up any compliments to his drunk ass...so of course this meant that his mouth would pop open any minute like a pez dispenser from hell and out would pour a flood of cuntage...tear'n her to shreds until she was a mere puddle of regret on the floor fer dare make'n eye contact with us in the 1st place...which is exactly what had happened
so i quilted my best comforter as fast as i could and pulled her outta the cage match...she was no match for!

by now the clock was tick'n and i only had 45 minutes before i hadda fly out the airport to pick up my blood line...but puddle girl was still a puddle while try'n to decipher the reason'n fer the box of Franzia season'n her ass...but i was in zero mood to explain it to her...(seriously...i don't know how you non homo guys put up with all their blubbery mess...call a doctor pronto!)

so i opted the best way i knew how to shut her up...by putt'n a Miller to her mouth...which i did at the next water'n hole...but had let her know the clock was tick'n and this would be the last stop...or she'd be thumb'n it home...
by the time we left the bar...she had completely fergotten the cage match from earlier and was give'n me directions to her house...which of course ended up being on the other end of the fuck'n universe

as we walked to my car...i noticed a pocket knife had fallen from her purse...and though she seemed completely harmless enough at the time...
i was in no mood to find out if i was cart'n Lezzy Borden's ass all over the metro area...just to drive to some deserted alley and end up as a side dish with some fava beans and nice kiante...so i pocketed the pocket knife and would give it back to her once i kicked her to the curb

as i was cross'n the river and not over to grama's house...
i decided to coast down the other side of the bridge...when i noticed christmas lights flash'n in my rear view reflection from a distance...and i suddenly got all in a panic cuz i realized i hadn't even put  together my latest and greatest my x-mess list together fer Peetrinella...i mean Santa Clawz...
then i realized...wait!...it's only july!

though i personally felt i was more than ok to drive...i knew i was suppose be the sober cab that nite...but i did have 4 watered down bottles of piss diet beer all nite (hey no one else is gonna watch my waistline but me)...and it was a good hour since i had a drop to drink before i had put the keys into my ignition...so i figered i had a tail light out or perhaps it was against the law to carry some half baked blubber'n bitch in my front seat...i don't know!

so i pulled over to the side and noticed in my side mirror...
a beam of light and  from the distance...an incredibly hulky cop walk'n towards my car...and i swear on a stack of CHER cd's...
Madonna's "erotica" was play'n in my cd player at the exact same time...so of course i'm think'n...FINALLY...i get to play out my wildest fantasy...only prob was i had this drunk mess in my front seat...total mood killer!

by the time the officer made it to my window...i had already rolled down my window...anticipate'n as to what position i was gonna be ordered in next...
but much to my surprise...he just asked me "do you know why i stopped you? in a not so very bend over and take it like a bitch kinda way

ummm..."is it cuz i'm pretty and yer in the mood fer an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe?"
though i heard my mind say it...i hadda dash down stairs to my mouth as fast as i could to make sure i didn't actually say it to mister officer...(though secretly i had wished i had)...who knows how this whole nite would'a turned out...but turns out as i was come'n down the bridge...i had inadvertently ignored my speedometer and was goin approximately 9 miles over the speed limit...it'll happen!


he'd asked me what i had to drink...instead of ask'n me out on a date...like i assumed he would've asked me...i mean HELLO? look at me...i'ma catch
i decided not to turn this into some twisted fantasy any longer cuz i noticed the time on my dash board and i was now NOT at the destination i was suppose to be in at this time...so i told him the story about my night as i checked myself in the mirror...and then he asked me to step outta the car...about time!

as i placed my hands on the hood of my car wait'n in anticipation fer that slow hand pat down that i had read about in all those erotic novels as a teenager...again i was misinterpret'n everything and he had asked me if i had anything in my pocket...to which i said said just my cell and wallet

as he had me lift my hands out he slipped slowly down my front pocket..i knew i wanted him inside me...but i thought i'd be in another position...
 instead...he pulled out a pocket knife!

it had completely slipped my mind that i had grabbed it off the sidewalk...
and had put it in my pocket but fergot to give it back to the blubbery mess once we got in my car...so i explained it to the officer...and next thing i know...i'm lean'n over the trunk of my car gett'n hand-cuffed by Roscoe...
though...when i played this scenario out in my head...i'd assumed they'd be wrapped in some sorta fun fur...and i'd be strapped to his bed posts like some caged animal

so next thing i know...i'm being escorted ...without a corsage i might add...to the back seat of his car...without him join'n me...i might also
wanna add...and not 5 seconds would go by before i noticed some Sanford and Son look'n tow truck arrive'n on the scene with no DJ equipment or disco ball...and the gal bein' told to get outta my car as it was lifted up on it's hind legs and they disappeared off into the distance in a matter of seconds

WTF?

it was as if the world had stopped and i wasn't gett'n off...with ANYONE!

join us next week fer part 2 of the excite'n conclusion to BUSTED!

now get off my dress!

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

COUGH!

so there i was...shoot'n the shit with my ex best friend's mom...
about  whether old man winter was gonna bitch slap us with 8 or more inches again this year 
(and i ain't talk'n about the neighbor down the street...well...not this time anyways) 
decide'n if ambrosia salad tastes better with coconut flakes or mini marshmallows...
how many orders of heels Ivanka was able to sell to Merkel at the G20 summit
and whether her brothers Dumbshit and Unfuckable had remembered to change their shit shorts after pull'n each others fingers one too many times while sett'n up biz trips with their dad's Pimp Putin...ya know...just stuff ya talk about when you're done with the proverbial BS chatter
when all of a sudden the conversation segued into that annoy'n weezy cough that had decided to once again consume my body...she informed me to go in and get it checked out cuz it might be mold in my lungs...since i am live'n in the Lavern and Shirley shithole apt in the Minne-Apple
and of course she informed me that if i did...that means BIG BUCKS!!

the next day i headed to the local doc's office...
to get my complimentary anal exam lungs checked out from the crypt keeper on staff...who looked like he'd rather be eat'n a bowl of enema's and watch'n a Matlock marathon than deal with my issues...
so he made me unbutton my blouse and huff and puff a couple of times...but as i huffed and puffed...i knew i was in no shape to blow anyone's house...mind or anything else down fer that matter...so he sent me down fer my very own glamourshots session of my inner'ds to see what was goin on

as i took that long walk down to the x-ray room...
i was greeted by none other than some Doogie fuck'n Howser MD...i shit you not...again bein' asked to remove my blouse...i might add...without even offer'n to get me a cocktail first...so as he put down his color'n book and was asked to huff and puff and hold it in as he snapped me fer my close-ups...then sent me back upstairs
as i waited in the upstairs lobby to hear my name bein' called outta the corral of other impatient patients...i thought i'd search on line fer the closest CANDY CRUSH ANONYMOUS meet'n in the neighborhood...since i couldn't get past level 16 fer the past 3 weeks and was gett'n extremely annoyed...
thanx to my current failure
i could'a ripped the head off a over grown illegitimate asswipe Betsy Wetsy doll

finally...my name was called and i was led back to the doc's orafice...
and told to have a seat...hmmm...this never sounds good when yer TOLD to have a seat...
well unless of course...yer deal'n with a hot dominant verbal top...BUTT...such was not the case

as i sat wait'n fer the inevitable news...i thought...hmmm...
could this be thee adverse side effects from bein' a governmental drug bunny back in my early 20's finally catch'n up with me...or perhaps i took too much antacid in the 90's...i didn't know

the crypt keeper kept silent fer a few seconds...
i thought...ummm...can ya puhleez do yer nom-yo-ho-ho-ren-geng-ki-o another time?...then i thought...OH GREAT!...why wasn't i on the P-I-L-L?...then i remembered...oh yea...i hadn't taken a hot poker up the jaxie in the past 9 months to warrant that alarm...so what could it be?
well...apparently this doc had gotten his degree from the bottom of some cracker jax box...cuz when my x-rays finally showed up on screen he asked me... 
"what do you see?"

he did not just ask me...what did I SEE?
ummm...thing is doc...i'm a beauty school drop-out...work'n in a bank...with a master's degree in detect'n bullshit...and come to think of it...what i don't see...is any of those fancy schmancy glorified framed pieces of paper in yer lil orafice here...so why don't ya fake it like yer wife's orgasms and quit play'n 20 ?'s with me...make'n me take off my blouse with out the sacrificial cocktail and just tell me what i'm suppose to see or not see...OK?

well...he said everything looked good and prescribed me my meds...
and told me to come back in a couple of weeks if the cough hasn't gone away and he'd consult with a specialist

the experience just left me sorta unsure...and just my luck i happened to
be at the moment...so i just overpaid fer my medical Mike & Ike's and scampered home to a "BREAKING BAD" marathon...and not that i'm one to promote the use of any sorta of narcotic...and apparently i'm MANY years behind the times...but i get it meth heads...I'M HOOKED!

by morn'n...i had reread the instructions...
on my bottle of destruction that this "pill" was suppose to do fer my cough...but somethin' inside me said wait til ya get to work and look up the side effects...and thank CHER i did!

the governmental drug of choice you ask?
it was prednisone...used fer a merried of problems...with a handful of adverse side effects...the most common one bein' of MOON FACE from what i read and heard from past users of this medication

needless to say...i wasn't too damn happy to get this news...
so i decided to get a 2nd...more reputable opinion!

after consult'n with the stars...i decided to throw caution to the wind and break the meds in half and see what happens...but if i come outta this...
look'n like some bloated beauty queen unable to slip into my Gloria Vanderbilts any longer...there will be H-E-double hockey stix to pay...guaranteed!

now get off my dress!

Monday, July 3, 2017

flashback fornications

not sure how things are taught now in lobotomized class catholic school...
but back in the day when i was but a pre-pubescent unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...forced to participate in the voodoo rituals in a classroom full of coma-toasted Catholickers...very lil was told about the tingle'n sensations that were race'n thru our milky fresh pre-pubic nubile bodies

my sex education classes consisted of 2 basic rules :

#1  it's against CASPER's law and absolutely deplorable...
to involve yerself in ritualistic monkey love with someone have'n the same nibbley parts

#2  it's against CASPER's law and the #1 cause fer blindness...by...
"play'n with yer Pee Wee Herman"

"yank'n yer Yoda"
"make'n yer pogo stick puke"

or the hundreds of other nicknames referred to as "wake'n yer nibbley's from their nap"...plus many unscientific studies have proven this was the
main cause for mental retardation in most future political closet cases

well...needless to say...i wasn't too damn happy to get this news...cuz the endless hours i used to spend above our garage...once fingers found flesh...after rummage'n thru my cuz's garbage and meticulously remove'n
the gerber servers from back issues of beaver hunt and leave'n me with the pile of tonsil ticklers as visual aids fer my numerous exploratory expeditions

as my body began to change...so did the electricity surge'n thru my veins...and then one day it FINALLY happened...when i was have'n...
"my own private i-da-ho" moment...that the gates of Lucifer opened wide like the nuns spoke of...
and i gave myself my very first "pearl necklace"...which was very traumatize'n at the time...cuz i believed this was a punishment from CASPER thanx to those non fuck'n nuns...so i figered i had to rid my body of this obvious enjoyable evilness...sometimes at the rate of 10-15 times a day until i gave my one eyed willy serious rug burns and could no longer rub one out...
this of course would'a been alot less painful had i know about lather'n up in lubrication while perform'n self-fornication

it wasn't until i joined in on a weekly ritual with the chain wang gang a group friends "patty cake'n their baker's man" above another friend's
 garage...that i learned heaven truly is a place on earth...or at the very least...in a buddies garage...they know who they are so i will forgo mention'n any names...besides...they wouldn't fit into my E true hollyweird story anyways

though i am reproductively retarded...i know now as a full grown wanker spanker...this is completely normal and natural act of release'n stress...
and there's absolutely nothing wrong with "toss'n yer salad" from  time to
endless time when needed...though these days i just lay there like a dead hooker and let my informational highway speeders do that call of duty fer me...i mean i am an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe after all...just make sure at the very least...there's a bucket of crisco near by

recently...a friend told me of how she'd been runn'n thru vats of hair conditioner like it was goin outta style...and with only birth'n 2 moochers...
each of the opposite sex...there was only one simple pimple solution to her conditioner dilemma...without embarrass'n the guilty gusher...i suggested she simply purchase stock in the merried of lubrication's on the market these days and slip it under his pillow...no words will ever need to be exchanged...as this is NOT a topic typically discussed between mother and child...and MOST  non homosexual fathers have penile denial when it comes to teach'n the topic of "spank'n the monkey"

of course there are those CASPER crusade'n parents out there who are vehemently apposed to the touch'n of any tingly parts with their children...
that they would have to chastise for...so is yer lil Gabriel try'n to "blow his horn"?
perhaps Bethany is become'n a blasphemous bad girl by "sinn'n underneath her linen"?

well don't fret my insane brain dead color'n book correctors...

thanx to the makers at Control Toys...yer prayers have been answered...
save yer son's soul by strapp'n him into this easily assembled cross fashioned after Mary's unbiological mistake from a one nite stand with CASPER...with comfortably adjustable canvas straps to help yer child control his urge to purge himself of the evilness within...until he is old enough to walk thru the pits of hell down the aisle...with his annoy'n tax write off...comes in 2 confessional colors...baptismal blueberry and deliver me from evil red
deliver yer daughter's from those evil dances with the devil...by buckel'n her into this blasphemous free jacket...made from 100% pure salvational cotton...completely hand washable with just enough wiggle room fer yer child to stop and think before they touch their purgatory palace...comes in many fashionable designs...or download yer own pentecostal design to shun them from their friends

have kids that just can't seem to purge that undeniable desirable urge?...

so there ya have kittens...hopefully my insight into the naturally sinsational demonic lifestyle of  "spank'n the monkey" will make you think twice...
the next time you feel the need to "she bop"

or start "turn'n japanese"

now get off my dress!