Monday, August 3, 2015

gimme one more hit many chosen single non heterosexuals...have a merried of "drugs" when choose'n a potential failure as a runn'n mate fer a period of time...
and by "drugs"...i mean options!

my latest and potentially the most damage'n "drug" to my cochlea...
would be the QUEEN's 13th studio album that "allegedly" leaked like a baby with bladder control issues late last year

which i already can't get enough of her latest and greatest 46th  #1 hit

followed soon by M's beyond AMAZE'N global domination with her...
 start'n september 9th in Montreal...of course i'll settle and just see her in St Paul...since i couldn't get enough CASPER crusaders to shove benjamins into my gofundme gofuckyerself account...hey i'll do what i can to help out so her poor neglected...underprivileged children don't have to starve!
   teaser #1 here                    teaser #2 here

i'll be kick'n off her return back to the land of 9,999 bottoms with... 
ICONIC: REBEL HEART party @ SALOON sat oct 3rd...more deets come'n soon

but i digress...where was i goin with all this?...oh yes...

in your 20' were judge...jury...executioner...defendant and plantiff on how you looked and what you wore when you went out with yer gaggle of gays and the one token fag hag who felt like the luckiest bitch on earth
the dollars bill's would flow like a whore with halitosis at any given bar on any given nite of the was all about cover charges and cock!

i somehow always felt like i had become some sorta surrogate therapist
to some meals on wheels look'n fruit basket...who's environmentally delayed...just cuz he paid fer my drink!

so instead...i'd rummage around for the leftovers at any bar close...
fer someone close enough to the top of the food chain...OR

stroll fer a troll in the wee hours of the nite in the park fer a ride home...
and don't you bitches start point'n fingers...i wasn't there alone

by the time i hit my 30's...i knew i was goin' to become a romantic wreck
not once...not twice...and by the third time...i was no longer a laydee...but i did it anyways...cuz i figered i needed to evolve beyond the bar stools and the bad morn'n after pills i picked up from the nite before...and cuz i was too lazy to commit suicide!

well...20 years later...and into my 40's...i feel like i'm back in my 20's and look'n like my 30's...but with alot less hope...alot less hair and alot less tolerance fer find'n a potential failure in my own age box...don't take that the wrong way though...i'm just not desperate and i'm not just gonna settle fer sangria and sausage links for breakfast anymore!

though the economy has moved up from where it's made a HUGE impact on the way us 40+ single non heterosexuals go about conduct'n our "free time"

no one can afford the $10 covers...or feel they should have to anymore
nor do we want to be bothered by some mo' with a $200 8-ball...who wants to go out and be the disco quee­n showing off their personally trained abs...under some over priced GUCCI tank to a bunch of twinks and tweekers

a magority of us have succombed to the online hook up...and for the most part...yer choices are between meth heads or manic depressants who've replaced their overhead lamps with dollar store tea lights in hopes you don't notice that they had to cancel their gym membership...
who's still try'n to pull off their tailored look that they wore 20 years ago...only now...they look like a bloated blood sausage ready to burst at the seams at any moment

and yer lucky if you will even meet the photochopped fucker on the other end of the informational highway...cuz the superficia­lity bar has been raised so high...that when ya finally do...they're usually try'n to recreate the image they sent ya by pose'n like some sad egyptian hieroglyphic anyways...
at least in have a chance to start a's just delete...delete...delete!

and speak'n of my own's no surprise that viagra sales are soar'n...when all the things that make a date with a new mo' interest'n these days are reduced to simple formula of boredom
and ps...btw...they ought to be personally erect'n a life size crucifix with my name on it...cuz 20 years ago...i was one of thee original governmental test bunnies who got that lil blue pill approved fer their erectcreational pleasures
so they to could be energized til the wee hours of the morn'n

a while back i received an email from some online porker with an axe to grind with me...who i never had met...or porked fer that matter...that i can recall...from 10 years ago apparently

i thought...oh...what perfect time'n!

lett'n me know i looked like (and this is a direct quote) "a moron wear'n your shades" thru the downtown mousetrap systems on my daily breaks
excuse me Mr. Fucktard...but how else do i keep up the mystique as thee only unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe without them?...where does all this non verbal communicative passive aggressive behavior come from?  and why is it so much more effectively acceptable as an easier form of communication these days to understand (and annoyingly acceptable i might add) with almost everyone...i wanna know what ever happened to actually have'n to say face to face "ummm...wanna fuck chuck?"

don't EVEN get me started on unreturnable texts in a timely manner breaks down like this kittens...

online meet-n-greets are like stars from the 2nd cast of Designing Women
no matter how funny Jan Hooks and Julia Duffy were...
they would never be able to live up to the originals...cuz they were no Delta Burke or Jean Smart

meet'n in person is much better than try'n to read a wreck wait'n to happen!

so it looks like i will need a new kinda "drug"...since my preferred method
apparently is...get this..."ILLEGAL" it gets a bit spendy and is too much trouble try'n to guess the ratio to body frame just right
(ummm...insert laugh here if you haven't)

it's human nature...if you want it...just ask...i just might...if not...
don't worry abod' it...and puhleez...get off my dress!

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