Monday, May 15, 2017

one fer the cheap seats in the back!

there are many many many methods of madness...
that thee elusively exclusive unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe single non heterosexual (known specifically as ME)...must endure when their non baby make'n machine begins to rattle the natives that are try'na escape the clutches of their confinement...to find that perfect void filler fer the nite...(only cuz i'm just too lazy to commit suicide)
or at the very least...fer the next 5 minutes until yer decide to treat yer AA bestie to HH...so you fire up yer shit mobile to take them out fer a nite on the town (well until HH ends at least) but they decide to trot their A double snakes down to you a mere 30 minutes past a monkeys ass...to plop their perky A double snakes down fer a nite of regret by morn'n...then beg you to be treat them to somethin' off the kids menu!
ummm...you may be a queen with no coins at the moment
but kitten...i'm a queen without a castle...so puhleez don't hassle!

i was recently reminded by a failed attempt at a miserable future with a potential pain in my plump A double snakes how they dumped me cuz they couldn't handle all the bright lites of my fabooshka at the time...cuz of 
their own future insecurities and self imposed exile they would have to succumb to themselves...i of course...had zero issues with said failure then and even now to this day...well accept...we've all changed considerably as time marches on

though it may seem a tad demean'n...it's the world we live in...
us single gentle "laydee's" and not so gentle"laydee's"...have been reduced to sell'n ourselves like a well worn out used car...with plush interior that makes us inferior...to the highest low life you can find on line...under subtle hastags that suit you best like... #polesmoker...#buttpirate...#salamismacker...#onemanssodomandgomorrah #ignorantincubus...#acheapwhore or #THROATPLUNGER...
just to get noticed these days

their is no more inter "action" anymore for the most part...it's just cheap...
enter"pain"ment to pass the time on line...it's like a Baskin Robbins of sexual frustration...many savory flavors to pick from...that YOU or THEY will just...most likely...take a taste test from...with colorful verbiage and pictures...but eventually end up pass'n 'em up just cuz ya don't feel like waste'n yer gas fer some supposed hot ass...plus...there's always a better flavor within walk'n distance that'll never show up anyways
in prehistoric times...caveman would dress up in their sunday best on a friday nite and head out to the local diner to share a brontosaurus burger and head home and pound it out til the stegosaurus's came home
 by the 1800's...it was all about the size of yer hat that really impressed yer slutty suitor
in the 1900's...it was best to wear match'n outfits in case you were caught chipp'n yer date's teeth by some treacherous non homosexual...cuz you could get away with say'n that you were just play'n doctor with yer twin brother...
(oh those tricky lil knob jockeys) 
once the 70's rolled around...you roller skated to the closest Donna Summer discotheque once the sun had set...while display'n the correct color coded hanky in yer back pocket in order to find that perfect fancy fruitcaker taker that you were in the mood for that even'n...or just fer a simply quick afternoon delight

in the decadent 80's...it was all about tight shorts and pricey escorts...
and though it was the rise of QUEEN M...
it was also unfortunately the rise of queens gett'n AIDS...which meant you had to rethink yer animalistic instincts and wrap yer willy in a rubber...porn cinema's were yer safest go to...to go to...to bust yer nut...
(well...A-L-M-O-S-T)
or you would be invited over to yer friends and have an old fashioned ball buster party in the storage space above their parents garage...spank'n it while flipp'n thru their dad's back issues of Beaver Hut magazine...as i was (no names mentioned) but secretly...you were just there fer the salami sword fights

though the 90's were dominated by ritual bathers grunge...
playtime consisted of  phone line fantasies...sidewalk sales and park'n lot predators...though i would turn down 99% of the participants (the margin of error of course is plus or minus 2-20)...only cuz i didn't need another reason to steal the crown away from Miss Penicillin that year...so instead...i opted fer someone close enough to the top of the food chain...by stroll'n fer a troll in the wee hours of the nite in the park...fer a ride home...cuz i was too tired to walk
and don't you whores start point'n fingers cuz i wasn't there alone

once the millennium came out...everyone was come'n out...
i fer one...was satisfied eat'n fer one on one fer a change...fer some change...not once...not twice...and by the third time...i knew i no longer wanted to be a laydee of the nite...cuz i figered i needed to evolve beyond the bar stools and the bad morn'n after breath mints i picked up from the nite before

now with everything bein' built on mistrust or absolute disgust...
from blurred and/or photochopped pix...most are just absolute on-line dicks with no pricks (hey everyone has their weakness) and it's become'n harder and harder...(and still without the use of a lil blue pill i might add)...to be bothered waste'n yer time or space to get yer motor runn'n

listen...i have no problems with relationships...i've had my share...BUT...
(and trust me...there always is one) 
even though i'm not all fer think'n there is that ONE TRUE ONE out there...i've done my charity work fer the time bein' with the last socially retarded...chemically dependent...and emotionally unavailable but incredibly attractive and very loveable mo's that i found out there...and regardless of all the hoops and fruit loops i'll have to encounter along the way to find "the one" in the distant future...which in all seriousness...
is about as real as the unicorn...i'll still do it all over again...someday!
but let's be real kittens...no self respect'n...self indulgent hussy...from twinkville to the twi-lite years...wants to should have to be bobb'n fer blue balls in the steam room on a friday nite...while yer still hope'n to find that perfect #1...that isn't completely full of #2

who knows how the future of fantastic fornications will play out...
but i fer one...plan on participate'n!

now get off my dress!

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