Monday, January 27, 2014


last week on CAGED HEAT...well click here to find out <---i ain't gett'n paid to reread it to ya!

and now the excite'n conclusion to CAGED HEAT

once i reached the book'n station...the disbelief that i was feel'n...
had now turned into fear...fear that i would never taste fresh air again...fear that i would be stuck in an orange jumper...know'n full well that orange gives me that unflatter'n jaundice complexion...fear that i would never get to play in the Tabernacle Choir...even though i never played the electric guitar in my life...
the hot bulge'n bucket in blue was no longer of any interest to me in the slightest (well almost of no interest)...i mean come on...i was gett'n thrown in the klink...not gett'n a home lobotomy perm...besides...i needed somethin' to think about to get me thru the nite

as i stood against the cold clammy brick wall wait'n to get me picture take'n as part of the book'n parade..i knew i should've checked myself  in the the over head fluorescent light'n wasn't calm'n my native nerves one bit...though somehow...i managed to take a breather when the photographer arrived

i'm ready fer my close up Mr Demille...
only problem was...i wasn't on sunset boulevard...and Billy Wilder was nowhere to be seen

i was told to look forward and stand still fer roughly 5 seconds...and the only thing that ran thru my head was...what is the look i wanna convey in my snapshot?...sad?...scared?...hysterical?! i'm an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe and i'm gonna kick yer ass!

next thing ya know i heard "ok thankyou"
what?'s over?...i didn't even get a countdown to get myself together in my glamour shot pose...she was though...kind enough to let me see what she had taken....
i was absolutely horrified!

i mean after all...this picture will represent my humiliate'n downfall with some low baritone underscore during my E true hollywierd story someday and who doesn't want a non embarass'n embarass'n photograph splattered all over the gossip rags?

i have never groveled fer anything in my entire life...
well...besides tickets to see the QUEEN's tour in St Paul,MN at the tender and supple age of 16
but i was NOT about to let this picture ever see the light of i seriously asked her if i could get a do over...and whether she was completely bored or felt my fear in the photograph...she totally agreed and saw no harm in it...thank CHER!!

after my session with Annie Leibovitz had ended...
i was escorted to the drunk tank...and lemme tell you...there was no turned down queen size bed with a wrapped truffle sleep'n on the pillow...there was no privacy door around the toilet...well cuz there was no wall to attach it to...there was no remote fer the cable tv...well cuz there was no tv...and most of all...there was no CHRISTOPHER MELONI in my cell...
  the other inmates where not at all as hot like they were portrayed on "OZ"...I WAS ROBBED!!
instead i was stuck with a drunk Tonto and some DYNOMITE dude

i opted outta the shower scene since Christopher wasn't in my cage...
and i was in no mood to be anybody's soap i just sat quietly on the cemented couch and just starred at the clock

tick tock tick tock tick tock!

watch'n and listen'n to the hands on the clock slowly sync up with the beat of my heart was the only consolation that kept me somewhat sane that nite...cuz  while Tonto was kick'n back count'n sheep...JJ kept up the entertainment by bang'n on the tank's window and tell'n me "they let'chu out whitey before me...cuz they always be try'na bring my people's down"

charmed i'm sure!

though i somewhat agreed with his complaint in general...i'm pretty sure it's cuz he kept bang'n on the cell window...yell'n like some drunk baboon...
with a bad attitude...and trust me when i say...i was ready to start digg'n my way to the outside

4 1/2 hrs would go by before i would finally hear the click of the cell door open'n...and i was asked to step out the cage...Tonto still rest'n peacefully...i bid J.J au revior and told him i'd do my very best to bake him
a Betty Crocker with a prize inside if i got a free minute...but he knew it would be our last time we'd see each other...

as i was shuffled to the front to collect my belong'ns...look'n around and soak'n up my surround'ns hopefully fer the last time...i realized one thing...the overall interior design was atrocious and obviously NOT done by any legitimate non hetero...but i guess that is defeat'n the purpose in the first place one might say!

as the lady Gamorrean guard behind the glass partition...
pulled my belong'ns that had confiscated on my way in in before my glamour shots session...she read off one by one what they had entered...which was now only my lonely set of car flip phone...14 benjamins with some loose pocket change and my dignity wrapped in a wrist which i said...just keep it!

that is until i looked closely at the photo?...hmmm...this actually could be used to my advantage...everyone fantasizes about have'n an outlaw!
i seriously had asked the guard if i could get an 8x10...but apparently....not only did she not have a sense of humor...but she also had a bad olgilvie home perm with capped highlights...i had done my hard time long enough...i was starve'n fer affection...along with baby spinach salad with a raspberry vinaigrette and some chunky monkey ice cream...i knew this would be my ticket outta loverlessville...and i'd be beat'n em off with a stick once i uploaded this pic onto my profile page on

everything was flip wallet...keys...but now the 14 benjamins that were inside the wallet...had now been replaced by a diluted pink check in the amount of $'s 4:30 in the am...excuse-em-wah!!
but how does one expect me to get a cab with a check?

i was not a happy camper...wait'n fer large Marge to pat me on the back and tell me everything was gonna be ok...instead i was told to find my own way home...and don't come back...ummm yea...DON'T WORRY!...i had almost washed away my life prior to check'n into San Quinton...but was quickly reminded when i listened to my voicemails from my siblings...OH SHIT!
of course each one was more aggresive than the last from one of my siblings...not ask'n what had happened to me at if i had been mugged...maimed...mutilated and dumped on the side of the road gasp'n fer my last it was more like "where the fuck are you goddammit...we're wait'n at the fuck'n better pick up the phone..." ect

charmed i'm sure!

as i walked forlornly home that early morn'n...i thought to surreal the past 4 hrs had been...and how it feels like to be a caged animal...and how i gotta stop watch'n all those prison shows think'n how glamorous life is like on the inside...cuz it ain't! and as i made it round the bend to the corner of hooker junction and crackville avenue...i was finally home...or at least not sleep'n on a cold hard slab...but enough about my boyfriend

now get off my dress!

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