Monday, September 26, 2011

who's yer daddy?

well…i’ll tell ya one thing…it sure as shit ain’t ME!

i’ve come to accept this is now the category i fall under to 20 somethin’s out there in desperadoville…i was there myself at their age…the only difference was…i never expected my 40 somethin’ stalkers to foot the bill…or take them for granted...i’m not the type who expects nor likes the pamper’n process without reciprocate’n the pamper’n process at the same time (birthdays being the only exception)

pamper’n belongs on small whiney puke buckets

and raisin ranchers period!

so anywho’zll ding…i got a wild hair up my naturally smooth anal entrance a few weekends back and decided to text my library of contacts to see if anyone else was in the mood for a random road trip to Oprahville
5 minutes later i got the only spontaneously intelligent response from my 20 somethin’ road tripper who said “when shud i b redy’

2 hours later we were off to the windy city…and my only purpose for said spontaneous trip was fer...
clown shoes...why not!

it was a joyful ride on the way down…since i hadn’t initiated a road trip on my own out of state since (hmmm…lemme think fer a minute)…ok *DING* times up…it was needed

i learned a new road trip game that totally beats the alphabet game…whatever city was up ahead was the name of the reign’n queen of that town and there was back story we made up of said queen within seconds of spott’n the sign…try it…you’ll love it!

ex: Baraboo : malato queen who wears lots of feathers and thinks Beyonce should be president

Mauston : older queen with a limp leg and does alot of Shirley Bassey
plus...she's discovered a lump!

Waunakee: middle eastern indian queen who only sings old school Cher live and enters any pageant she can to help pay fer her "operation"

after a lil hydroplane right outside of Illinoyed…

we arrived at my friend’s by 10 pm…and no time was wasted with small talk…we said the proverbial “hey…how’s it been…got anything to eat…we’re goin out”…cuz i was in need of many cocktails from the hydroplane shakes i was still recover’n from

off to HYDRATE
a very 90’s look’n danceteria…but with free cocktails thrown at us
why complain?

and after meet’n up with my co-pilot's X…and soak’n up the eye candy…we popped in next door to Elixir fer more alcoholic freebies and chitter chatter with the locals…by midnite…i was pumkin pie…so i left the 20 somethin’s to themselves and went back to my friend’s to count sheep

by morn’n…mr friend had gone to work and left me house keys…my mission was clear…but i didn't wanna go on this adventure alone…so i chatted on line to the locals and snagged me a headless horseman within minutes
(let’s get real though…when non heterosexuals see yer an outta towner…fer me…it was like shoot’n fish in a barrel)

he could only send a face shot thru text…which ended up bein’ a picture of a cell phone block’n his face…cuz he had to be “discreet”….(which 99% of the time means they’re f*ck’n around on someone) but i didn’t wanna spend all day hunt’n fer company…so i said why not to lunch…since i wasn’t expect’n a marriage proposal or my co-pilot anytime soon

so he told me what he was wear’n and all that jazz…and we decided to meet half way

as i’m gett’n to the half way mark…i’m look’n all over fer a guy with a stripped shirt…khaki shorts (i know…UGH right?) and a cell phone hot glued to his face…i notice across the street someone match’n this description (minus the cell phone in the face)…so instead of make’n an A double snake of myself…i decided to call…and sure enough with the cell phone in his face…it was a match

first impressions…like’n the “look”…obvious that he works out…
(stunt hottie in picture)

but i was more into his outfit…and what i need to do to get him outta it…HA…only kidd’n (maybe not!)

he apologizes fer being “discreet” in his picture…but he’s an attorney fer the state of Illinoyed…which i didn’t really care about his ferry tales…since i was in town on a reconnaissance mission as an undercover KGB agent with my co-hort in crime
i just wanted someone to have lunch and hang out with while i was in town (since i fergot my chloroform spray at home…i hadda do it the hard way)

lunch was good…then he asked if he could hang out fer a while…i was game since his bug eyes
were no longer bugg’n me…(hey i’m just give’n ya a visual…not judge’n)

so he asked what i was in town fer…and i said like a small child with turrets...

“CLOWN SHOES”
(like i would be there fer anything else...Oprah no longer lives there)

he oddly laughed but took me to Beatnik’s…wear i found em but wasn’t ready to throw away $52 fer a one time deal (2 at the most)…instead he took me to the holy grail fer any non heterosexual man with taste…
Borderline’s”…jammed packed with any and all you could possibly ever want to own by Madonna musically whether it be on dvd or cd format...and many other hard to find artists

after he induced the Madge coma…he no longer existed in my world (even though i had been here a few times in the past) each time was like goin on a roller coaster ride until you puked…
but after 20 minutes…i pulled the plug and left without purchase…but secretly knew i would be back before return’n home

still no word from my co-pilot…me and attorney man (thing is…though i found him attractive and easy to talk to…i had my premonitions as to why i didn’t need to remember his name...which you'll find out soon enough) walked around a bit more…small chitter chatter and he convinced me to go on a date with him later in the even’n…and i agreed…so it was set….he was gonna take a nap…after all it was 5 o’clock and he was 45

i declined the offer to “nap” since we all know what that means…
besides i was wide awake…and didn’t want to do the walk of shame so early in the even’n…any respectable person knows…that is best saved fer the break of dawn hours only

so after a simple peck he said he’d call me in a couple hours and take me to BERLIN fer MADONNARAMA nite…

this guy is either psychic or knows how to just have a good time…either way…i would rather be no where else…and as i walked away…he told me to stop at “Buck’s” to see the “tootsie roll”


whatever that meant…an hour later i met up with my co-pilot and his X fer cocktail hour...we stopped at Roscoe’s fer a pre cocktail cocktail hour but the lines were too long already…and i wait NO where fer a drink unless it’s Madonna or Boy George serve’n me a tacky margarita


and fer some reason...i don't see that happen'n anytime soon...so i suggested Buck’s across the street…and off we went

it dawned on me as i seen the 6’4 non caucasian bartender make’n candy shots fer the 40 somethin’ gaggle of soccer moms with bad Molly Ringwald haircuts (we included ourselves in the cheer since it was my bday weekend getaway as well)


to ask him to see the “tootsie roll” as my date suggested

he laughed...hmmm…was it somethin’ i said?

minutes later…and keep in mind it’s only 5:30ish in a fairly packed bar on a sunday even’n…without any warn’n…i found out what all the “tootsie roll” fuss was all about…mr. bartender had let his pet anaconda “tootsie roll" outta his “cage”…BUT…it was no tootsie roll…OH NO!...it was more like mr. snuffaluffagus’s trunk!

(just close yer eyes and visualize since there is not enough space on here to advertise...and i am not joke'n when i say that)

though in shock (and i rarely get shocked)…i felt like i was aboard the millennium falcon
and gett’n pulled into the death star’s tractor beam

the co-pilot fumbled fer his camera like madam butterfly have'n a corinary
but this was not to be a repeat performance

after the flirtation and free cocktails ended…my date finally showed up and off we went to pit stop #2…the Lucky Horseshoe

i wanted to see if the “professional dancer” that i met the last time i was there (doin' a research project of course)
(he educated me on the difference of a "stripper" and a "professional dancer") righhht!...that's like say'n some people say the glass is half empty...some say it's half full...i say "where's the damn bartender?"

plus...he was the only reason to visit this shit hole of a bar…i mean…this quaint lil shit hole of a bar

he was on a “professional dancer” break…(which i’m pretty sure meant he was “make’n rent” with some guy from meals-on-wheels in the back room)…but i’m not hear to judge…i know the economy ain’t the best in these try’n times

so me…my date…and the co-pilot (the X left due to being a downer to this outta-towner) did a quick shot in the back of the bar…and had the bartender take the proverbially cheesy “here we are gett’n shit faced at a strip joint fer our next facebook post”

and i no longer was high on my buzz as i noticed outta the corner of my eyes in the mirror behind us…my co-pilot and my date thumb wrestle’n
behind my back!

i had no plans on a marriage proposal mind you…but if yer a 45 year old "discreet" adult and make a date with me…you don’t try and recapture yer youth with some 20 somethin’ tattooed sing’n STD (hey in my story...he may have had one…i cannot deny or confirm)

and if yer a 20 somethin’ tattooed sing’n STD...who just got a ride outta town and a place to stay fer free…you ought think twice before cross’n a queen!

i ignored it for now…since it was all about MADONNARAMA nite at BERLIN

we were the first in line…and 20 minutes later we were inside… it was as if the gates of that mythical pillow factory in the sky had opened and invited us in

i didn’t want to waste one moment on chitter chatter any longer…i was like “hey mister dj…put a record on”
and i was off to the floor

i grabbed both my entourage’s to hit the floor with me…but they resisted…i didn’t have a care in the world…i just floated up to the center platform and stayed there fer the next 60 minutes…sweat’n my A double snakes off…it was surreal to see the sea of Madge madness around me…envelope’n me into their circle…i felt like Ester Williams in cocktail heels

after one too many tried to show off their best vogue moves on the center platform that i had pretty much occupied the entire 60 minutes…along with this hostess twinkie and his match’n hag…i missed my foot’n and crowd surfed to the floor…not by choice but by the voguers now that have take’n over my territory…no biggy

well except…wait…what ever happened to my 2 entourages i came with?...hmmm…were my premonitions comin’ true?

as i scanned the crowd fer any sign of either of them…
i was gett’n outta my buzzed blouse and into my pissed off pants

seconds later as the crowd somehow split like the red sea…and i notice them both…walk’n joyfully hand in hand…until they spot me
and immediately disengage their hands and pretend as if they never seen each other before in their life

i got him into a remington party...and he repays me in metaphoric puke!

instead of break’n down and say’n “you know…i have a little prepared speech i tell my suitor when he wants more than i'd like to give him…gee blank i had a really nice time...ahhh...you don't deserve my fucking speech!”
instead i just walked right out the door back to my friend's place as if i just survived the school blow’n up in my face…there’s a new heather in town!

i ignored all 13 texts i received that nite from them both deny’n they had no idea what i was upset about or that “they were look’n for me” crap line…and also ignored the co-pilot's desperado phone calls til 3 am plead’n to answer the phone

i could’a cared less if they did or didn’t fornicate that nite…fer real

thing is…you may be 20 somethin' singer in a band…but i’m a 40 somethin' queen with a car!

don’t f*ck with a queen or you’ll get a heel to yer head
i am no one’s daddy…i’m a queen at heart!

now...get off my dress!

ps...i just noticed i hit the over 5000th stalker to read my ramblin's...thanx fer all the stalk'n...and here's to 5000 more :)

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