live’n the life of an unintentional internationally unknown perform’n illusionist of the universe isn’t all THAT BAD!
sure…the invites to all those after bar movie premiere parties in hollyweird with the likes of Cher...Madonna…Brangelina…Tomkat…and that one guy that always plays an extra in every movie ever made…may have gotten lost in the US postal system somewhere…but if one can make their mark in the minne-apple…they will surely fail everywhere else!
but behind the glitter and glamour one acquires from live’n the life of an unintentional internationally unknown perform’n illusionist of the universe…lies the undeny'n fact that all that glitters...is not fake swarovski crystals…which we’ll take a closer look on with tonite's 1st of a 3 part series on...
KRYSTAL KLEER: BEHIND THE BEAUTY pt.1
grow’n up in a small minnesota cowtown…Krystal Kleer…as she’s known as to her die-hard fan Jess and the many who have subsiquently ran across her while try'n to catch another performer…wouldn’t even be born for another 25 years…though attempts were made to break her outta her shell…
at the tender and supple age of 15…Krystal’s grandmama Viola…whom she had been live’n with at the time…sensed her grandchild was bitten by the 80’s gender bender bug…and took matters into her own hands
Viola…the open minded loving patriarch to the large irish catholic family...decided one day to take down her brown polyester curtains from her front windows...after a still yet unknown Krystal...had cashed in her recyclables to buy her first wig…gave her money to stop down at the corner hardware store to pick up a can of black spray paint while Viola stitched and sewed til the wee hours of the morn’n…create’n Krystal’s first even’n gown for halloween that year of ‘86…Krystal went out as the mistress of the dark Elvira that year…it was to be the pivotal point into what lay ahead… (pause for commercial break)
“that lump-on-a-log luva of yers got ya down?…work’n yer pretty lil bones to death without any appreciation?…sweat’n like a whore at a republican convention…cook’n dinner for the one you love without any sorta climactic satisfaction?....try “DUESH AWAY!”
simply add one scoop of “DUESH AWAY!” to his fav-o-rit alcoholic beverage and stir…then "give him" the bottle (bottle smashes across face and beer drips into mouth) the gentle cleanse’n actions work almost immediately with that good fer nutt’n a-hole you call yer luva…turn’n their genetically malfunctioned molecular structure from hose bag…to heaven sent!…get “DUESH AWAY” today!
(and now…back to KRYSTAL KLEER: BEHIND THE BEAUTY pt.1)
after fall’n victim to the infamous 80’s gender bender bugitis in the summer of '86…which claimed the lives of other...more notably famous people like BOY GEORGE…MARILYN…ANNIE LENNOX…GRACE JONES and many others during this colorfully flamboyant outbreak…for Krystal…school was no longer an option…and after deal’n with the slings and arrows from her classroom critics and a certain fellow student who took it upon himself after a childish bet from fellow teammates to viscously attack her "crown of spikes" she created with her hair in the fall of '87…she opted for a chance to shine in the dim spotlight and have her PEOPLE’S COURT moment... sue'n the prick and lett'n it be known that Krystal was force not to be ignored
for the next 4 years...Krystal would jump from broom closet to bedrooms or anywhere else she could lay her head down to count sheep...earned her degree as a beauty school drop-out...before pack’n her hair and heels and head’n fer the bright lights of the minne-apple in the summer of ‘91.
shortly after arrive’n…she met a tall beautiful Bridget Bardot-ish performer named Kurtis from the phone line one late nite…who introduced her days later to a flock of performers…in a stretch limo…on the corner of crackville avenue and hooker junction in south minne-apple…at 2 am one friday nite
after being wisked away thru the lake of the aisles and a subsequent stop at some random mansion along the route…where the gaggle of gurls…dripp’n in sequins and feathers…piled outta the limo and made a b-line to the front open porch…and as if they had rehearsed this routine for weeks…had all lifted up their gowns and proceeded to paint the porch floor with their homemade lemonade…
like a junkie on heroin…Krystal was hooked!
days later Krystal had the pleasure of see’n her newly found friendships perform’n at a famous downtown entertainment establishment called the GAY 90’s…and learned the tricks of the trade when she was led backstage to meet the mastermind behind the colorful madness she had seen on stage…Mr. Ron
Mr. Ron was the matriarch and leader of the lovelies on stage at the time…and even though she couldn’t lyp-sync for her life on just about every song she ever performed …Eartha Kitt’s “champagne taste" was her oscar winn’n spot on performance…Mr. Ron knew how to make the crowd go crazy for her gurls!
Krystal knew…before the curtain would close on her for eternity…she wanted to cross that stage off her bucket list…and she would have that chance…4 years later!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
PASS OVER and OUT
so tonite…at sundown…begins this overlooked holiday completely left out from the hallmark section and promotional ads of your fav-o-rit non-denominational super store...and if ya ask me…i say “gimme my Passover prezzies…please!”
i may be a lil fuzzy on the facts…(as is anyone in the past 1000 years…since none of us where actually there…so who ya gonna believe?) but apparently the story goes as follows…
this imaginational nonsexual artist of all things that are universal…(the plants…the animals…the people…the REMOTE) one day flipped out and turned into an ax-wheeling homicidal maniac who “passed over” the homes of the “penny pinchers” while slay’n everyone else’s first born pile of crappy pants…in some pyramid city far far away…(though some nut case copt an attitude a couple thousand years later and got even…but that’s…another story)
see kittens…sometimes coming in first does have it’s disadvantages at times...i mean…look at most of the winners on the American Idol program
(that was NOT a paid endorsement)
how has no blood suck'n corporation not jumped on this band wagon?
sounds like the perfect gift give’n celebration to me…don’tcha think?
well…if ya don’t believe the BS in that story (my cliff noted version of course) that i was try’n to “pass off” (hey…some denominations choose to)and that’s…their choice (unlike mine to be a non-heterosexual)
perhaps you’ll enjoy the follow’n that took place recently…the other day…a week or so ago…
a not soo long lost…not so good friend of mine who shall remain nameless…(not for privacy reasons…no…only cuz i fergot what his name was while this story went to print) had another…unfortunately close friend of mine for about 17 years now…who…at times…is a complete kitten...and at other times is completely lost on reality and his equilibrium…thanx to his new bbf FRANZIA IN A BOX…(they’re inseparable) named Sallie Mae Day Hat…rang the owner of the Sallie Cab (that would be me) to go on a world tour of the downtown liquor establishments of their choice one sunday afternoon
though i would’a rather stuck toothpicks in my toenails and drink’n shots of DRANO…i needed petro in my pinto blow-about…so i turned the meter on
by the time i arrived…i had remembered…DANZILLA was his name!!
eyes like the emerald city…with a thick black mane of hair atop his noggin and butterfly lashes to match…and lips that look like they're made out of precious pink pillows
WAIT!!...let’s back it up a bit…
DANZILLA had recently checked out of a very posh…”state run” hotel…after his “year lease” was up for “fulfill’n his obligations”…and was ready to go batshit crazy (or maybe that’s why he rented there in the first place)…either case…he wanted to taste freedom…and to him…that was best served in a chilled martini glass…so off we went
first stop on the booze-a-pa-looser tour…was the appropriately chosen…LUSH…why not!
DANZILLA became immediately intoxicatingly fixated on mr. pearly whites bartender after order’n the first round of drinks for his groupies…and i have to admit…he made a faboosh apple-tini
though i was designated driver…i knew this tour would last til the 1st one falls…so one wouldn’t hurt…would it?...and anyways…i’m about to make my national debut as the unintentionally internationally unknown perform’n illusionist of the universe…so one must learn to be accustomed to this sorta treatment…besides…it’s a free cocktail…i can afford that!
now…i’m used to Sallie Mae’s antics and vocal range after she’s filled her tank with whatever alcoholic beverage of choice it may be…on any given nite for that matter (it’s like watch’n a Tara Reid movie on a loop for the past 15 years)…and me always try’n desperately to be the voice of reason….but ya can’t stop a locomotive no matter how hard you try!
this time though…i got to sit back and enjoy the show…as Sallie Mae had met her match!
one apple-tini…$7 …buy’n some affection for your pseudo friends…$28 know’n that you won’t have to remember where or how you burnt thru about $300 on a 2 hour tour when you wake up in the morn’n…PRICELESS!
(or in this case...about $300)
DANZILLA had drowned himself in 5 apple-tini’s at this point and basically prostituted his affection for mr. bartender’s attention with a $20 bill after each martini he chugged down (of course it may had somethin’ to do with the fact that the bartender was a drug dealer)…cuz every time he bent over…he was sell’n a lil crack…and at some point during the chaos and confusion of booze-a-pa-looser…DANZILLA had jumped into the mosh pit with a healthy gal named RUTH
however the war of words started…Sallie Mae had no desire to play referee!
RUTH threw in a couple good upper cuts and bitch slaps…and DANZILLA…feel’n a bit bruised…and heavily intoxicated…pile drived her with a pussy punch “whatever fatty”…which RUTH is not mind you…she’s big boned (but…so’s a stegosaurus)
i became the buffer between the 2 for a while until Sallie Mae had had enough!
so onto the next 3 stops of the tour…which pretty much was the same rinse and repeat routine...the tipage continued thru-out…DANZILLA guzzled his cocktails and roared his terrible roar…til DANZILLA could no longer roar his terrible roar and he quietly hibernated on Sallie Mae’s bed by the time i turned the meter off
moral of the stories…
FIRST…why do certain adults continue to believe in fairytales of a sexually frustrated delusional entity with homocidal tendencies towards the first born of certain religious beliefs…and not give a gift?...yet...as children...we're led to believe that some guy with a glandular problem from meals-on-wheels dressed in a fuzzy red pimp coat... pants and match'n cap with 8 4-legged slaves drive'n miss crazy around every december...travel'n the world to give every good boy and girl a gift...until we reach about the age of 10 (17 in some southern states) and by then we learn it was all a hoax...but we still want our prezzies...regardless!
hmmmm...are ya see'n a connection kittens?
SECONDLY…though times like these are made for Maxwell House…film’n this day for a youtube video for the world to witness would make these precious moments alot more cherishable!
now if you don’t mind…i need to give myself a home lobotomy…so kindly let yerself out…and puhleez...get of my dress!
i may be a lil fuzzy on the facts…(as is anyone in the past 1000 years…since none of us where actually there…so who ya gonna believe?) but apparently the story goes as follows…
this imaginational nonsexual artist of all things that are universal…(the plants…the animals…the people…the REMOTE) one day flipped out and turned into an ax-wheeling homicidal maniac who “passed over” the homes of the “penny pinchers” while slay’n everyone else’s first born pile of crappy pants…in some pyramid city far far away…(though some nut case copt an attitude a couple thousand years later and got even…but that’s…another story)
see kittens…sometimes coming in first does have it’s disadvantages at times...i mean…look at most of the winners on the American Idol program
(that was NOT a paid endorsement)
how has no blood suck'n corporation not jumped on this band wagon?
sounds like the perfect gift give’n celebration to me…don’tcha think?
well…if ya don’t believe the BS in that story (my cliff noted version of course) that i was try’n to “pass off” (hey…some denominations choose to)and that’s…their choice (unlike mine to be a non-heterosexual)
perhaps you’ll enjoy the follow’n that took place recently…the other day…a week or so ago…
a not soo long lost…not so good friend of mine who shall remain nameless…(not for privacy reasons…no…only cuz i fergot what his name was while this story went to print) had another…unfortunately close friend of mine for about 17 years now…who…at times…is a complete kitten...and at other times is completely lost on reality and his equilibrium…thanx to his new bbf FRANZIA IN A BOX…(they’re inseparable) named Sallie Mae Day Hat…rang the owner of the Sallie Cab (that would be me) to go on a world tour of the downtown liquor establishments of their choice one sunday afternoon
though i would’a rather stuck toothpicks in my toenails and drink’n shots of DRANO…i needed petro in my pinto blow-about…so i turned the meter on
by the time i arrived…i had remembered…DANZILLA was his name!!
eyes like the emerald city…with a thick black mane of hair atop his noggin and butterfly lashes to match…and lips that look like they're made out of precious pink pillows
WAIT!!...let’s back it up a bit…
DANZILLA had recently checked out of a very posh…”state run” hotel…after his “year lease” was up for “fulfill’n his obligations”…and was ready to go batshit crazy (or maybe that’s why he rented there in the first place)…either case…he wanted to taste freedom…and to him…that was best served in a chilled martini glass…so off we went
first stop on the booze-a-pa-looser tour…was the appropriately chosen…LUSH…why not!
DANZILLA became immediately intoxicatingly fixated on mr. pearly whites bartender after order’n the first round of drinks for his groupies…and i have to admit…he made a faboosh apple-tini
though i was designated driver…i knew this tour would last til the 1st one falls…so one wouldn’t hurt…would it?...and anyways…i’m about to make my national debut as the unintentionally internationally unknown perform’n illusionist of the universe…so one must learn to be accustomed to this sorta treatment…besides…it’s a free cocktail…i can afford that!
now…i’m used to Sallie Mae’s antics and vocal range after she’s filled her tank with whatever alcoholic beverage of choice it may be…on any given nite for that matter (it’s like watch’n a Tara Reid movie on a loop for the past 15 years)…and me always try’n desperately to be the voice of reason….but ya can’t stop a locomotive no matter how hard you try!
this time though…i got to sit back and enjoy the show…as Sallie Mae had met her match!
one apple-tini…$7 …buy’n some affection for your pseudo friends…$28 know’n that you won’t have to remember where or how you burnt thru about $300 on a 2 hour tour when you wake up in the morn’n…PRICELESS!
(or in this case...about $300)
DANZILLA had drowned himself in 5 apple-tini’s at this point and basically prostituted his affection for mr. bartender’s attention with a $20 bill after each martini he chugged down (of course it may had somethin’ to do with the fact that the bartender was a drug dealer)…cuz every time he bent over…he was sell’n a lil crack…and at some point during the chaos and confusion of booze-a-pa-looser…DANZILLA had jumped into the mosh pit with a healthy gal named RUTH
however the war of words started…Sallie Mae had no desire to play referee!
RUTH threw in a couple good upper cuts and bitch slaps…and DANZILLA…feel’n a bit bruised…and heavily intoxicated…pile drived her with a pussy punch “whatever fatty”…which RUTH is not mind you…she’s big boned (but…so’s a stegosaurus)
i became the buffer between the 2 for a while until Sallie Mae had had enough!
so onto the next 3 stops of the tour…which pretty much was the same rinse and repeat routine...the tipage continued thru-out…DANZILLA guzzled his cocktails and roared his terrible roar…til DANZILLA could no longer roar his terrible roar and he quietly hibernated on Sallie Mae’s bed by the time i turned the meter off
moral of the stories…
FIRST…why do certain adults continue to believe in fairytales of a sexually frustrated delusional entity with homocidal tendencies towards the first born of certain religious beliefs…and not give a gift?...yet...as children...we're led to believe that some guy with a glandular problem from meals-on-wheels dressed in a fuzzy red pimp coat... pants and match'n cap with 8 4-legged slaves drive'n miss crazy around every december...travel'n the world to give every good boy and girl a gift...until we reach about the age of 10 (17 in some southern states) and by then we learn it was all a hoax...but we still want our prezzies...regardless!
hmmmm...are ya see'n a connection kittens?
SECONDLY…though times like these are made for Maxwell House…film’n this day for a youtube video for the world to witness would make these precious moments alot more cherishable!
now if you don’t mind…i need to give myself a home lobotomy…so kindly let yerself out…and puhleez...get of my dress!
Monday, April 11, 2011
Strip for Strep
before you go pillage’n thru the bottom of yer purse for some loose change and a tic tac or post a heart break’n plea for donations on yer facebook page and forward it to yer legion of annoyed followers that get updates on every live’n moment of yer life…second by second...until they break down and block yer ass…this event…will NOT be televised!
by 3 am this particular morn’n… (after 2 weeks of hell) from the cold-like symptoms given to me as a gift from a substitute trainer…leave’n me with the voice of an exotic porn star who had smoked half their life away…and make’n my throat feel like i had been chew’n on shards of broken glass every time i swallowed (hey…keep it clean…i was sleep’n…alone…again!)
something had to be done!
though i knew the insurance phone lines weren’t open til 8 am that brisk monday morn’n…direct'n me to the world wrestle’n federation of automation voice from hell til i would be connected to an actual breath’n voice so they could direct me to the closest doctor (or mortician at this point)…i was in no mood for choke’n on any more jello squares and antioxidant popsicles any longer…so i got up to get somethin’ refresh’n and chilled…and the only thing left in my frigid air was a shot of oj and 3 strawberries wear’n the latest out-of-tastebud-fashion green fur coat...that is never in fashion…hmmm?
i was in no mood for experimentation…so i opted for the oj
ummm...yea…thing is though…apparently…as much as my mind told my stomach to give me the shot…my throat told me somethin’ else!
after the painfully burn’n of the citric acid (which might as well been sulfuric acid) on my throat subsided…i rocked myself to sleep (insert whatever dirty lil innuendo you want here) fer a couple hours
when the insurance company had finally opened…i was ready to pile drive the autovoiced b*tch that kept taunt’n me by say’n “i did not understand what you said” blah blah blah…when i FINALLY got a human nurse that directed me to the closet hospital fer an appointment with the doctor
i arrive at the hospital and was forced to doggie paddle in the wait’n pool area with a bunch of non believers of under arm deodorant and ritualistic bathers
GREAT!
luckily…i had my steno pad with 3 sharpened no. 2 pencils in hand…to entertain myself artistically in case inspiration should smack me up side the head at any given moment…why not!
and either i was experience’n flashbacks from some bad antacid trip in the 90’s…or the nurse try’n to check me in looked like Popeye’s girlfriend who chomped on too much of his spinach and her left hand and feet got all the effects
after i gave her my license…insurance card and social security card for identification purposes…she still couldn’t find me in their system (after i had just talked to the nurse less than 45 minutes earlier who booked me there)
i was about ready to give her a stool sample…when the rest of the spinach must’ve kicked in and she had me on her monitor
20 minutes past my scheduled appointment…they finally send me in to have the nurse give me the routine ear…throat …20 question patty-cake game…and to wait fer the doctor (and from his name…i wood...it sounded all general hospital and all)…but instead…who walks in but some medical student with a limpy ogilvie home perm…and badly waxed eyebrows…(you know what i’m talk’n about…done at a Fantastic Sam’s just to save 5 bux…the kind that end up with one perfectly arched brow…and the other look’n like a frowny face)
miss frowny brow in a bad polyester blend not only redoes EVERYTHING the previous nurse had just done…but also what the previous telephone nurse had asked me (does NOBODY type this sh*t in the system?)…i was done play’n the patty-cake questions…i just wanted to see dr. hotness…get my pap smear…WAIT!...get my drugs and go to work (and i never want to go to work)
she leaves…and comes back with yet ANOTHER medical student…(i swear i was on some twisted episode of candid camera or MTV’S boiling point)…but at least this student was tall…dark…and so Patrick Dempsey…in a Colin Farrel way
i no longer wanted…nor had any desire…to see the scheduled doctor i had ordered…and though he did the same routine as the 2 previous…less attractive nurses…i figered…3 times a charm…right?
he at least made small talk…oddly asked my about my beauty mark and how long it was there…if it was real...and if i was single
ok...before we continue on with this harlequeen novel of a blog...YES my beauty mark is REAL...I REALLY PUT IT THERE!!
and before you all start tweet'n 'n' text'n your shock to the universe...
and collect'n yer bets...here's the back story "behind the beauty"
it was my high school obsession with Marilyn Monroe...my Linus blanket if you will
makes me feel...you know...ummm...pretty...any ?'s
so puhleez...no more gawk'n at it....try'n to touch it...ponder'n why it's never in the same place all the time...smaller or bigger...or tell'n me to just tattoo it on (for those who've known my "deep dark secret" all these years)
NOW...if you would allow me to continue....
where was i?
oh yes...but the writing was on the wall!
so after consult’n with miss polyblend frowny brow and the first egg donor…(all 3 just inches away from popp’n my privacy bubble)…he said he’d be right back (damn…why didn’t i pack my emergency compact to tone down the forehead shine)…or even better yet…why hasn’t one hospital yet toned down the florescent usage with a pink gel light…at the very least…for moments like these?
i figered he wanted to speak with me ”privately”….and i was right
he returned…alone…and addressed me straight in the eye…(as i undressed him with mine)...it felt as if the balcony windows from some italian villa were blown wide open by his presence…and the silhouette of his massive chest peered thru the silky curtains…Sade’s “this is no ordinary love” echo’n thru the wind….i realized one thing…i’m not gonna be a statistic…not me…my single life…as i was soo accustomed to…was about to change…FOREVER…(or at least for the next 20 seconds)
instead…he asked me…”when was the last time you had oral sex?”...(record scratch’s)…i’m like…”why doc…i barely know you…and i see yer not wear’n any knee pads!”
as i started to unbuckle my belt...unbutton my Gloria Vanderbilt’s (and undo my dignity...again) i told him about 3 and a half months ago (true story)…i guess he just wanted to know what antibiotic to prescribe…just in case…but he said since it had been that long ago…and the symptoms are recent…it was likely not a STD…(thank CHER almighty!)
so without this turn’n into some sick after school special…turns out…i just had a strep throat!
(side note…i almost fergot…fer those stratch’n their think’n caps…you will probably see past…present and future references to “thank CHER”…get a ticket to the catch-up train…she’s been around since the beginn’n of time…she’s created my world…therefore…i shall give thanx and praise whenever appropriate!)
FINALLY…45 minutes…and 3 nurses later…in walks dr. who-cares-who-you-are…and at this point…i no longer did!
some pint sized…unibrow cousin of M*A*S*H’s Klinger…who looked at the other nurses while address’n me…say’n the same blah blah blah i had previously been recited
i just wanted him out of the room…and thank CHER he did…but of course not before give’n me his antiseptic analysis tell’n me that i was in the age bracket of need’n a regular doctor for regular check-ups…(you know this guy sets an egg timer for foreplay)
really doc?...ummm…here’s a quarter…go see a movie…and puhleez!!...get off my dress!
ps…once back in nurse Dempsey’s vision…i was much more will’n to listen…so he prescribed me my meds…and said to contact him personally in a week if the swell’n doesn’t go down (i was like…”but doc…it’s only just begun”)…but that it should go down in 2/3 days with the meds
and it did!
by 3 am this particular morn’n… (after 2 weeks of hell) from the cold-like symptoms given to me as a gift from a substitute trainer…leave’n me with the voice of an exotic porn star who had smoked half their life away…and make’n my throat feel like i had been chew’n on shards of broken glass every time i swallowed (hey…keep it clean…i was sleep’n…alone…again!)
something had to be done!
though i knew the insurance phone lines weren’t open til 8 am that brisk monday morn’n…direct'n me to the world wrestle’n federation of automation voice from hell til i would be connected to an actual breath’n voice so they could direct me to the closest doctor (or mortician at this point)…i was in no mood for choke’n on any more jello squares and antioxidant popsicles any longer…so i got up to get somethin’ refresh’n and chilled…and the only thing left in my frigid air was a shot of oj and 3 strawberries wear’n the latest out-of-tastebud-fashion green fur coat...that is never in fashion…hmmm?
i was in no mood for experimentation…so i opted for the oj
ummm...yea…thing is though…apparently…as much as my mind told my stomach to give me the shot…my throat told me somethin’ else!
after the painfully burn’n of the citric acid (which might as well been sulfuric acid) on my throat subsided…i rocked myself to sleep (insert whatever dirty lil innuendo you want here) fer a couple hours
when the insurance company had finally opened…i was ready to pile drive the autovoiced b*tch that kept taunt’n me by say’n “i did not understand what you said” blah blah blah…when i FINALLY got a human nurse that directed me to the closet hospital fer an appointment with the doctor
i arrive at the hospital and was forced to doggie paddle in the wait’n pool area with a bunch of non believers of under arm deodorant and ritualistic bathers
GREAT!
luckily…i had my steno pad with 3 sharpened no. 2 pencils in hand…to entertain myself artistically in case inspiration should smack me up side the head at any given moment…why not!
and either i was experience’n flashbacks from some bad antacid trip in the 90’s…or the nurse try’n to check me in looked like Popeye’s girlfriend who chomped on too much of his spinach and her left hand and feet got all the effects
after i gave her my license…insurance card and social security card for identification purposes…she still couldn’t find me in their system (after i had just talked to the nurse less than 45 minutes earlier who booked me there)
i was about ready to give her a stool sample…when the rest of the spinach must’ve kicked in and she had me on her monitor
20 minutes past my scheduled appointment…they finally send me in to have the nurse give me the routine ear…throat …20 question patty-cake game…and to wait fer the doctor (and from his name…i wood...it sounded all general hospital and all)…but instead…who walks in but some medical student with a limpy ogilvie home perm…and badly waxed eyebrows…(you know what i’m talk’n about…done at a Fantastic Sam’s just to save 5 bux…the kind that end up with one perfectly arched brow…and the other look’n like a frowny face)
miss frowny brow in a bad polyester blend not only redoes EVERYTHING the previous nurse had just done…but also what the previous telephone nurse had asked me (does NOBODY type this sh*t in the system?)…i was done play’n the patty-cake questions…i just wanted to see dr. hotness…get my pap smear…WAIT!...get my drugs and go to work (and i never want to go to work)
she leaves…and comes back with yet ANOTHER medical student…(i swear i was on some twisted episode of candid camera or MTV’S boiling point)…but at least this student was tall…dark…and so Patrick Dempsey…in a Colin Farrel way
i no longer wanted…nor had any desire…to see the scheduled doctor i had ordered…and though he did the same routine as the 2 previous…less attractive nurses…i figered…3 times a charm…right?
he at least made small talk…oddly asked my about my beauty mark and how long it was there…if it was real...and if i was single
ok...before we continue on with this harlequeen novel of a blog...YES my beauty mark is REAL...I REALLY PUT IT THERE!!
and before you all start tweet'n 'n' text'n your shock to the universe...
and collect'n yer bets...here's the back story "behind the beauty"
it was my high school obsession with Marilyn Monroe...my Linus blanket if you will
makes me feel...you know...ummm...pretty...any ?'s
so puhleez...no more gawk'n at it....try'n to touch it...ponder'n why it's never in the same place all the time...smaller or bigger...or tell'n me to just tattoo it on (for those who've known my "deep dark secret" all these years)
NOW...if you would allow me to continue....
where was i?
oh yes...but the writing was on the wall!
so after consult’n with miss polyblend frowny brow and the first egg donor…(all 3 just inches away from popp’n my privacy bubble)…he said he’d be right back (damn…why didn’t i pack my emergency compact to tone down the forehead shine)…or even better yet…why hasn’t one hospital yet toned down the florescent usage with a pink gel light…at the very least…for moments like these?
i figered he wanted to speak with me ”privately”….and i was right
he returned…alone…and addressed me straight in the eye…(as i undressed him with mine)...it felt as if the balcony windows from some italian villa were blown wide open by his presence…and the silhouette of his massive chest peered thru the silky curtains…Sade’s “this is no ordinary love” echo’n thru the wind….i realized one thing…i’m not gonna be a statistic…not me…my single life…as i was soo accustomed to…was about to change…FOREVER…(or at least for the next 20 seconds)
instead…he asked me…”when was the last time you had oral sex?”...(record scratch’s)…i’m like…”why doc…i barely know you…and i see yer not wear’n any knee pads!”
as i started to unbuckle my belt...unbutton my Gloria Vanderbilt’s (and undo my dignity...again) i told him about 3 and a half months ago (true story)…i guess he just wanted to know what antibiotic to prescribe…just in case…but he said since it had been that long ago…and the symptoms are recent…it was likely not a STD…(thank CHER almighty!)
so without this turn’n into some sick after school special…turns out…i just had a strep throat!
(side note…i almost fergot…fer those stratch’n their think’n caps…you will probably see past…present and future references to “thank CHER”…get a ticket to the catch-up train…she’s been around since the beginn’n of time…she’s created my world…therefore…i shall give thanx and praise whenever appropriate!)
FINALLY…45 minutes…and 3 nurses later…in walks dr. who-cares-who-you-are…and at this point…i no longer did!
some pint sized…unibrow cousin of M*A*S*H’s Klinger…who looked at the other nurses while address’n me…say’n the same blah blah blah i had previously been recited
i just wanted him out of the room…and thank CHER he did…but of course not before give’n me his antiseptic analysis tell’n me that i was in the age bracket of need’n a regular doctor for regular check-ups…(you know this guy sets an egg timer for foreplay)
really doc?...ummm…here’s a quarter…go see a movie…and puhleez!!...get off my dress!
ps…once back in nurse Dempsey’s vision…i was much more will’n to listen…so he prescribed me my meds…and said to contact him personally in a week if the swell’n doesn’t go down (i was like…”but doc…it’s only just begun”)…but that it should go down in 2/3 days with the meds
and it did!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Master Bayshun...you have a call on line one!
with all the hoopla goin' on in my naturally born...single...non heterosexual life these days...filled with the 3 B's...bar's...booze...and boy's...(turns into the 3 M's after 50...metamucil...Matlock reruns...and mens-a-pause)...that i'd almost fergotten what it was like to concentrate solely on just ONE person...besides myself...fer a change
mainly becuz i'm reminded recently...on a daily basis...how utterly frustrate'n it can be...by friends and family members...who are...for a lack of a better word...completely JEALOUS of my chosen life (ya won't find me in the freezer section of yer fav-o-rit grocery store at 9 pm frantically look'n for that chemically injected cookie dough for the next PTA meet'n anytime soon cuz yer too damn tired to make em yerself!)
oh...i don't mean being a MO'...(that's "naturally born non heterosexual" fer those still spitt'n their copenhagen in a tin can and play'n pocket pool with their "buddies" at the cabin on the weekends with back issues of Megan Fox in the pages of MAXIM magazine)
i was...how the Lady G so affectionately sung it to her flock of fans..."born this way"
no...i mean...choose'n to be SINGLE lifestyle...after all...it is a CHOICE we all make!!
so why is it that i constantly feel the need to give to charity?
i mean...i’ve give’n to march of dimes...performed free for aids charities over the years...volunteered for the raisin rancher’s at any given hospice...consoled the socially retarded...chemically dependant...and emotionally unavailable mo’s
when is enough...ENOUGH?
recently...a while ago...i decided it was time to venture into unknown territory again for another charitable act of the week...(most call it...a date)...to the outer reaches of my planet...called...
C-H-A-S-K-A!! (cue dah...dah...daaaaaaah! music)
this guy i'd been chatt'n to the other nite...a while ago (YES…i’m still on the phone line from time to time...but fer narcoleptic purposes only) says he’s 38 years old with 3 grown kids...one being 20...a mo’...and live'n with him...and said he (my date) has been compared to a member of the GLEE club...so im think’n...OK...they're all pretty good look'n and my type...(well...those of the male persuasion of course...after all...i am just a gurl) if they were older of course...(my babysitt'n days are O-V-E-R!)
so we both decided to finally meet at his place the next nite around 7 pm for a movie before i went back to count'n sheep fer the remainder of my sleep deprivation
WELL...lemme break it down fer ya...one by one
first off...as i'm drive’n to what-the-hell-am-i-think’n land...i called to confirm directions...as i would never venture out on a school nite...(especially when it was as frigid and uncomfortable as Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes mack'n it up fer the paparazzi)...but he tells me i'm close...so he was gonna jump in the shower and his son would let me in
i make it to his place...and of course...no doorbell in my immediate sight to ring...and i was in no mood to go on a scavenger hunt look'n for one...so his son notices me out the window and opens the garage door (i felt like C-3PO wait’n to enter Jabba’s lair)
secondly...the son (legally 20 fer those wonder'n) was like a mini version of Johnny Depp from the "21 jump street" days...all tattooed up in the correct places...black baggy pants with a match'n black shirt with the top button slightly open...just enough to expose the beginn'n of "someone's" imaginational thoughts
(i'm think'n...grrrrravey on my mash potatoes)
though we had some things in common...(while i was wear'n safety pins in the 80's to look cool...he was wear'n 'em to stay dry) i was here to see his dad...not be his "daddie"
but i was guess'n the apple fell off a good tree...so i wasn't gonna push the panic button yet...maybe it was worth the drive after all
and he was super polite too (somethin’ i can freely admit...i am not at times)
he leads me to the top floor of the town home where it reeked of burbanite
you know...that smell of Costco overstock pre-packaged crap to eat...
Wickes furniture...Chuck Norris gym equipment and burnt out glade plug in’s...still plugged in
i tried to push the eject button...but i couldn't escape the son’s gravitational pull...he was cook’n noodles (while undress'n me with his eyes)
he had "GLEE" on in the kitchen...so we chatted about that and how cool it was...and he couldn’t stop admire’n and gush’n about my attire i had on...(HELLO!...have you seen me?) i couldn’t either if i wasn’t already me...(ummm...insert laugh here)
i totally felt like i was a passenger aboard the can-it-get-any-better-than-this airlines
thirdly...but then it happened...(*mayday*maybay*mayday*...you may now use your seat as a flotation device...we are experience'n a major malfunction)
i no longer felt like C-3PO...but more like Princess Leia shackled to Jabba’s throne!!
my date...WALKED IN!!
fourthly...we’ll go with 38 first
while i was actually 38 in 2008...he was 38 in like 1968!...ok...maybe that’s a bit of a stretch...and possibley a lil shallow...(we ALL do it on 1st dates...
finger pointers!) but let’s just say...use’n Milton Burle mud masks on a weekly basis since you were...what?...like 12...not sooo good!
(i want you to close yer eyes and visualize)
ok...so maybe he wasn't lie'n about being compared to a cast member of "GLEE"...i just wasn't picture'n the lezbitronic football coach in my fantasy date (and believe me when i say...i'm being kind here)
he looked more like Miss Jane Hathaway...who'd been bitch slapped by a coke habit fer the better part of the 90's...in bad 80’s low ride’n acid wash jeans...a crappy 70’s football jersey made for the jolly green giant...and still uses the same smart plastic bag with punch holes to pull yer hair thru by nice’n’easy...to give yerself that unsuspect’n high lite job (the only good thing i can say about his appearance is that i’m glad he recycles!)
plus...he had marinated himself in enough paco raban that could choke a hippopotamus!
but...i figured...since i was already there...just suffer thru one damn movie
so we went with KALIFORNIA with Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis...why not! (at least i could look at somethin’ hot...since i forgot my compact in the car...HA)
(feel free to take a breathier at this point...make yerself a cocktail...then strap yourself in for the second half of the show)
and now...back to the show
by now...as i settle down into his leather lazyboy...the son...of course...
kept walk’n in and out of the movie...while Miss Hathaway kept belch’n away with her Budweiser (i know...pretty huh...in a can none the less)
and pose'n like some egyptian hieroglyphic on the couch like he was gett'n ready to spawn
the second time...he (the son) came down with just a pair of shorts and a
wife beater on
i did all i could to concentrate on the movie and not wish i was 20 years old again...(though if genetics plays any part into that kids future...he better snag on to someone quick before gravity smacks the shit outta him)
of course...i could tell McDrunk was nervous as hell half way thru the movie...(why the hell wouldn’t he be...he’s got a goddamn unintentionally internationally unknown star in his presence)...cuz about every 20 minutes
he would say to me..."you won’t hurt my feel’ns if you wanna leave now...i can tell by your body language i know i’m not your type”
why?...just cuz i was sitt’n there on his tacky leather Wickes close-out chair from 1995...look'n like i was wheeled in like Hannibal Lector with face mask and strappy jacket on
hey...who ever said charity didn’t come with a price?
i did all i could from tell’n him to shut the F up...cuz i was try’n to concentrate on the movie that i’d seen like 1000 times before in complete silence...and wanted to see it 1001 times in complete silence
i made it thru this movie without look’n at him once...(for if i did...i was afraid i would turn into stone)...and graciously...said thanx for the invite to his spiderweb...i mean...humble abode
as he walked me down the steps...and out the door...the stench of costco and marination was but just a distant memory...and as i drove off into the bleak bitter nite...i realized one thing...i’m 40 and i still have a pulse!
so if anyone thinks i'll be mainline'n a relationship anytime soon...for the sake of a relationship because of my biological clock...ain't happen'n anytime soon!!
i don’t need to dip into the desperado pool...just yet...my hand ain't broken...besides...everything works out for the best in the end for me anyways
but wouldn’t ya know it though...i wake up the next morn’n...to 2 messages from him...one beginn’n at 11:47 pm say’n he had a great time watch’n the movie with me and wanted to be “friends” (apparently he was have’n an outer body experience last nite)...then a drunker message at 1:34 in the am hour...tell’n me it’s ok...he said his son talked to me on the same phone line a while back and wasn’t gonna hang out with someone that talks to his son as well!
why...just because his son is a little closer to the top of the food chain?
Miss Hathaway...puhleez...stay A-W-A-Y...and get off my dress!!
(phone rings in my head)
"HELLO...Master Bayshun...yea...i'd like to make an appointment!"
mainly becuz i'm reminded recently...on a daily basis...how utterly frustrate'n it can be...by friends and family members...who are...for a lack of a better word...completely JEALOUS of my chosen life (ya won't find me in the freezer section of yer fav-o-rit grocery store at 9 pm frantically look'n for that chemically injected cookie dough for the next PTA meet'n anytime soon cuz yer too damn tired to make em yerself!)
oh...i don't mean being a MO'...(that's "naturally born non heterosexual" fer those still spitt'n their copenhagen in a tin can and play'n pocket pool with their "buddies" at the cabin on the weekends with back issues of Megan Fox in the pages of MAXIM magazine)
i was...how the Lady G so affectionately sung it to her flock of fans..."born this way"
no...i mean...choose'n to be SINGLE lifestyle...after all...it is a CHOICE we all make!!
so why is it that i constantly feel the need to give to charity?
i mean...i’ve give’n to march of dimes...performed free for aids charities over the years...volunteered for the raisin rancher’s at any given hospice...consoled the socially retarded...chemically dependant...and emotionally unavailable mo’s
when is enough...ENOUGH?
recently...a while ago...i decided it was time to venture into unknown territory again for another charitable act of the week...(most call it...a date)...to the outer reaches of my planet...called...
C-H-A-S-K-A!! (cue dah...dah...daaaaaaah! music)
this guy i'd been chatt'n to the other nite...a while ago (YES…i’m still on the phone line from time to time...but fer narcoleptic purposes only) says he’s 38 years old with 3 grown kids...one being 20...a mo’...and live'n with him...and said he (my date) has been compared to a member of the GLEE club...so im think’n...OK...they're all pretty good look'n and my type...(well...those of the male persuasion of course...after all...i am just a gurl) if they were older of course...(my babysitt'n days are O-V-E-R!)
so we both decided to finally meet at his place the next nite around 7 pm for a movie before i went back to count'n sheep fer the remainder of my sleep deprivation
WELL...lemme break it down fer ya...one by one
first off...as i'm drive’n to what-the-hell-am-i-think’n land...i called to confirm directions...as i would never venture out on a school nite...(especially when it was as frigid and uncomfortable as Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes mack'n it up fer the paparazzi)...but he tells me i'm close...so he was gonna jump in the shower and his son would let me in
i make it to his place...and of course...no doorbell in my immediate sight to ring...and i was in no mood to go on a scavenger hunt look'n for one...so his son notices me out the window and opens the garage door (i felt like C-3PO wait’n to enter Jabba’s lair)
secondly...the son (legally 20 fer those wonder'n) was like a mini version of Johnny Depp from the "21 jump street" days...all tattooed up in the correct places...black baggy pants with a match'n black shirt with the top button slightly open...just enough to expose the beginn'n of "someone's" imaginational thoughts
(i'm think'n...grrrrravey on my mash potatoes)
though we had some things in common...(while i was wear'n safety pins in the 80's to look cool...he was wear'n 'em to stay dry) i was here to see his dad...not be his "daddie"
but i was guess'n the apple fell off a good tree...so i wasn't gonna push the panic button yet...maybe it was worth the drive after all
and he was super polite too (somethin’ i can freely admit...i am not at times)
he leads me to the top floor of the town home where it reeked of burbanite
you know...that smell of Costco overstock pre-packaged crap to eat...
Wickes furniture...Chuck Norris gym equipment and burnt out glade plug in’s...still plugged in
i tried to push the eject button...but i couldn't escape the son’s gravitational pull...he was cook’n noodles (while undress'n me with his eyes)
he had "GLEE" on in the kitchen...so we chatted about that and how cool it was...and he couldn’t stop admire’n and gush’n about my attire i had on...(HELLO!...have you seen me?) i couldn’t either if i wasn’t already me...(ummm...insert laugh here)
i totally felt like i was a passenger aboard the can-it-get-any-better-than-this airlines
thirdly...but then it happened...(*mayday*maybay*mayday*...you may now use your seat as a flotation device...we are experience'n a major malfunction)
i no longer felt like C-3PO...but more like Princess Leia shackled to Jabba’s throne!!
my date...WALKED IN!!
fourthly...we’ll go with 38 first
while i was actually 38 in 2008...he was 38 in like 1968!...ok...maybe that’s a bit of a stretch...and possibley a lil shallow...(we ALL do it on 1st dates...
finger pointers!) but let’s just say...use’n Milton Burle mud masks on a weekly basis since you were...what?...like 12...not sooo good!
(i want you to close yer eyes and visualize)
ok...so maybe he wasn't lie'n about being compared to a cast member of "GLEE"...i just wasn't picture'n the lezbitronic football coach in my fantasy date (and believe me when i say...i'm being kind here)
he looked more like Miss Jane Hathaway...who'd been bitch slapped by a coke habit fer the better part of the 90's...in bad 80’s low ride’n acid wash jeans...a crappy 70’s football jersey made for the jolly green giant...and still uses the same smart plastic bag with punch holes to pull yer hair thru by nice’n’easy...to give yerself that unsuspect’n high lite job (the only good thing i can say about his appearance is that i’m glad he recycles!)
plus...he had marinated himself in enough paco raban that could choke a hippopotamus!
but...i figured...since i was already there...just suffer thru one damn movie
so we went with KALIFORNIA with Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis...why not! (at least i could look at somethin’ hot...since i forgot my compact in the car...HA)
(feel free to take a breathier at this point...make yerself a cocktail...then strap yourself in for the second half of the show)
and now...back to the show
by now...as i settle down into his leather lazyboy...the son...of course...
kept walk’n in and out of the movie...while Miss Hathaway kept belch’n away with her Budweiser (i know...pretty huh...in a can none the less)
and pose'n like some egyptian hieroglyphic on the couch like he was gett'n ready to spawn
the second time...he (the son) came down with just a pair of shorts and a
wife beater on
i did all i could to concentrate on the movie and not wish i was 20 years old again...(though if genetics plays any part into that kids future...he better snag on to someone quick before gravity smacks the shit outta him)
of course...i could tell McDrunk was nervous as hell half way thru the movie...(why the hell wouldn’t he be...he’s got a goddamn unintentionally internationally unknown star in his presence)...cuz about every 20 minutes
he would say to me..."you won’t hurt my feel’ns if you wanna leave now...i can tell by your body language i know i’m not your type”
why?...just cuz i was sitt’n there on his tacky leather Wickes close-out chair from 1995...look'n like i was wheeled in like Hannibal Lector with face mask and strappy jacket on
hey...who ever said charity didn’t come with a price?
i did all i could from tell’n him to shut the F up...cuz i was try’n to concentrate on the movie that i’d seen like 1000 times before in complete silence...and wanted to see it 1001 times in complete silence
i made it thru this movie without look’n at him once...(for if i did...i was afraid i would turn into stone)...and graciously...said thanx for the invite to his spiderweb...i mean...humble abode
as he walked me down the steps...and out the door...the stench of costco and marination was but just a distant memory...and as i drove off into the bleak bitter nite...i realized one thing...i’m 40 and i still have a pulse!
so if anyone thinks i'll be mainline'n a relationship anytime soon...for the sake of a relationship because of my biological clock...ain't happen'n anytime soon!!
i don’t need to dip into the desperado pool...just yet...my hand ain't broken...besides...everything works out for the best in the end for me anyways
but wouldn’t ya know it though...i wake up the next morn’n...to 2 messages from him...one beginn’n at 11:47 pm say’n he had a great time watch’n the movie with me and wanted to be “friends” (apparently he was have’n an outer body experience last nite)...then a drunker message at 1:34 in the am hour...tell’n me it’s ok...he said his son talked to me on the same phone line a while back and wasn’t gonna hang out with someone that talks to his son as well!
why...just because his son is a little closer to the top of the food chain?
Miss Hathaway...puhleez...stay A-W-A-Y...and get off my dress!!
(phone rings in my head)
"HELLO...Master Bayshun...yea...i'd like to make an appointment!"
Friday, April 1, 2011
i broke my ego in 17 places!!
HA...cheap april fool's...but i got your attention
after many many many requests and months in the make'n...i finally said to myself...i said "self...you either get it together...or you'll blow it!"
so i sat myself down to start my very own non verbal communicational stop along the informational highway (i'll try not to litter...too much)
some posts may be random thoughts of nothing but for pure comedic nonsense i've endured at some point in the day...to make you...the reader...wish'd you'd been there...but you weren't...so i'll give you a slice of my life in a pretty lil bow...once a week...as a gift for your otherwise...
uneventful imagination or perhaps i may put on my democratic apron and deal with the real hard issues affect'n the way the world is spinn'n at any given moment (ya...right!) if you want read that crap...pop on over to the huffington post ok!
quite fitt'n that i begin on the day of the fool...for i am...you see...a complete fool!
a fool for love...a fool for laughter...a fool for a fool...a fool with a tool...a fool who can...and sometimes...cannot...be fooled!
i have always been a fan of things that begin with the letter BIG...BIG bank accounts...BIG music/movie collections...BIG closets of clothes...BIG family/friendships...and of course...BIG bulges (insert yer own indulgent imagination here)...but BIG WORDS have never been part of my forte(though i do believe that last word is sorta BIG for me)
i write what comes to my mind...how it sounds if i were to speak it...i have my own spellcheck locked away in my brain...and i'm not share'n the combo with anyone...anytime soon
from time to time if i accidentally throw out a BIG word that does...or does not...make sense to the reader (i deserve 25 cents for each one used correctly i believe)...no BIG whoop!...but don't bother white'n me out when you feel it's needed...cuz i will hunt you down and feed you some of my homemade backhand sammich!!
we all have opinions...some more than others...but this is my show kittens...so play along or kindly collect your annoy'n thoughts...and lifetime supply of pathetically political correctness...and puhleez...
GET OFF MY DRESS!!
after many many many requests and months in the make'n...i finally said to myself...i said "self...you either get it together...or you'll blow it!"
so i sat myself down to start my very own non verbal communicational stop along the informational highway (i'll try not to litter...too much)
some posts may be random thoughts of nothing but for pure comedic nonsense i've endured at some point in the day...to make you...the reader...wish'd you'd been there...but you weren't...so i'll give you a slice of my life in a pretty lil bow...once a week...as a gift for your otherwise...
uneventful imagination or perhaps i may put on my democratic apron and deal with the real hard issues affect'n the way the world is spinn'n at any given moment (ya...right!) if you want read that crap...pop on over to the huffington post ok!
quite fitt'n that i begin on the day of the fool...for i am...you see...a complete fool!
a fool for love...a fool for laughter...a fool for a fool...a fool with a tool...a fool who can...and sometimes...cannot...be fooled!
i have always been a fan of things that begin with the letter BIG...BIG bank accounts...BIG music/movie collections...BIG closets of clothes...BIG family/friendships...and of course...BIG bulges (insert yer own indulgent imagination here)...but BIG WORDS have never been part of my forte(though i do believe that last word is sorta BIG for me)
i write what comes to my mind...how it sounds if i were to speak it...i have my own spellcheck locked away in my brain...and i'm not share'n the combo with anyone...anytime soon
from time to time if i accidentally throw out a BIG word that does...or does not...make sense to the reader (i deserve 25 cents for each one used correctly i believe)...no BIG whoop!...but don't bother white'n me out when you feel it's needed...cuz i will hunt you down and feed you some of my homemade backhand sammich!!
we all have opinions...some more than others...but this is my show kittens...so play along or kindly collect your annoy'n thoughts...and lifetime supply of pathetically political correctness...and puhleez...
GET OFF MY DRESS!!
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