Monday, March 14, 2016

hit the road jack-off!

marriage has never been a priority fer me...when i can sit at home alone and complain fer free...in peace and quiet...then go out and buy myself a lil happiness

i've put in my time and dated my fair share of the socially retarded...the emotionally unavailable and the chemically dependents of the tri state area...by that i mean...i've tried almost everything...at least ONCE...all in the name of research of course

my bedroom had turned into a bored room ever since i ended my 4 years with the old purse i was date'n at the time...8 years ago...and up until 9 1/2 inches ago...i pretty much was a white supremacist when it came to date'n
not that other races weren't incredibly attractive...it just wasn't sexually a turn on for me

but i was over all the non homo and non hetero caucasians that would just lay there like a dead hooker and expected me to do all the work...
so i smashed down my defenses and jumped over the date'n fences...to see what life was like on the other side!

my bedroom has since become a United Colors of Benetton ad...and ya know what...i've come to tell you that things are still pretty much the same...assholes do come in many different colors!

my most recent experiment...7 years ago about...was this taco belle from
Tijuana work'n out at my gym and would totally have a Sheena Easton and Prince moment runn'n through my head when i'd see him...by that i mean
 i am rarely EVER distracted from my work-out...cuz i go to the gym to work out...and not act like i'm walk'n down some proverbial narcissistic runway...but this chimichanga had a look...buzzed head...intense eyes...tattooed in the right places...and pillowed lips you could bounce on fer hours (well if you were into that sorta thing)

anyways...i would watch him from time to time work out... while i was sweat'n it out on the ass master machine...and noticed that he wasn't walk'n down any runway...(except the one in my head...that went straight to my bed) but there to actually work out...so i was hope'n someday our paths would cross

a year would go by before i would get the chance to run into him on a lazy sunday afternoon at some lame downtown beer bust...that always was a bust...but would get me into experi-men-tal mode to see what all the planet of apes would be say'n about me...without have'n to say'n a word!
(my hidden talent?...lip reader)

i forced myself to talk to him...since he was hold'n up the patio wall
pose'n like some egyptian hieroglyphic...and it turned out there was some mutual interest (so i didn't have to bite down on that cyanide pill after all)

so after some fornicational 4 square back at his humble little kitty box...i crossed off the  "cross'n the border" from my list of "things to do"...hey...
we have ALL had those "moments" when you've just wanted pure unadulterated fornicational pleasures...without the use of battery operated assistance or take'n ol' "Rosey Palmer" on another date!...(whether you fulfill them...is up to YOU)  it's human nature to think about it judge prissy!

BUT...the next day he called me back and it threw me off guard...cuz i figered i was on his list of "things to do" (hey...he did get to sleep with an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe after all...i can't even count how many wish they could have)
of which i was sure to tell him right off the bat so there was no confusion...or before any other non heterosexual bar bitch would try to use that as some sorta wedge between us...like they have in the past unfortunately

after spend'n a 2nd nite with me in my kitty box...he had asked me if i would have any interest to move with him if he got his transfer put in fer work...
*hmmm...i was a bit perplexed at first...it's a thought i suppose...but then realized...i am...after all...an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...who wouldn't want me to move with them?

or if he wasn't gonna move out to San Diego... would i consider date'n him exclusively in the minne-apple...again...i wondered about it fer a minute...*but then i remembered my token answer from above

speedy gonzales proved me wrong as we both opened up a bit more...
we shared the witty repertoire...we talked about everything from my ABC's to his STD's...he tried to humor me plenty of times with the fact he would have to tell people he got laid by a drag queen...but i corrected him that i am neither a drag nor a queen

i hadda cancel the movie date we had planned to see the follow'n week...
the australian cinematic masterpiece known as "PRISCILLA QUEEN OF THE DESERT"
at my apt...cuz he had never seen it before...and that's really just insane to me

but life happens and i was co-horsed of course to leave town on a mission that needed to be done...so i texted him where i was and why i was there and when i'd return and what day he wanted to reschedule the movie...but i could tell the subtext of his text...that he was not pleased!

the follow'n day after my return...i was home on break fer lunch...and received a text from my taco belle...who now had turned into taco hell...who needed to get somethin' off his chest with a few lovely textable words...
          (yes...in case yer wonder'n...this is word 4 word...his actual text)

my 1st thought was...OH...MY...CHER!...WOW!...what a fuck'n moron...
this mo' is no spell'n bee champion obviously cuz he doesn't even know how to spell Dr. Freud correctly...but i decided to follow his train of thought...and wondered if i were the great Dr. F....how would i assess the situation?

now there's a merried of reasons how i could decipher this as...

reason #1 he was miffed i left town and cancel'n out on the movie date...which would really make him a big ass baby...i mean...we were both past the appropriate age of pull'n each others pigtails

reason #2 his work decided not to transfer him to San Diego...so he needed to blow off steam...and i was an easy punch'n bag

reason #3 he's just a complete c*ck-suck'n-mutha-f*ck'n-pig-slutt'n-trailer-trash-border-cross'n-mexic*nt...with a hot ass

i'm gonna go with #3....cuz #1 or #2 sounds like i really care!

he's worried about tell'n people a drag queen f*cked him?

OH NO!...no drag queen f*cked you mr. senorita...
you can tell them an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of her own universe f*cked you...and you won't ever ferget it!

ummm...INS...i have a new file fer you!
THEN...i kinda felt sorry fer him...fer a minute...cuz he's obviously a complete walk'n contradiction 
who couldn't deal with my fabulousness or his narcissistic selfishness...and now everytime when i pass a tequila bar or taco john's...all i hear are the torn and tattered sounds of Miss Mac Gregor
all the Judge Mentals and Wade Tumors of the world need to get a life! (that's not my last failure's name...i do have some decorum left) he was just some insignificant  pile of non heterosexual crap 15 years ago that begged me to pollinate him...in the powder room...at his friends party
that started my experi-men-tality date'n...who took it upon himself to inform my potential future failures fer a while that i am THEE unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe

i have no problem when people want to move onto other pastures...
but don't feed me a slice of cow pie and expect me to wash it down with a glass of WTF? juice!

like the ABBA classic goes..."Can you hear the drums Fernando?"
pound'n yer insignificant memory from my existence?

i am not embarrassed nor will i ever deny that i am THEE...
unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...cuz if that's a deal breaker...then don't let the door hit ya in the A double snakes on the way out...cuz i won't ever be doin it again...and P-U-H-L-E-E-Z...get off my dress!

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