Monday, August 28, 2017

can i stalk to you fer a minute?

ever get that not so fresh feeling...like yer being watched?
and i don't mean that in a Linda Lovelace sorta ways kittens...well not today anyways!

so you know how i'm into gangsta rap MADONNA right?

MADONNA...if yer read'n this...and i know in some parallel universe you are...i want you to know...i'm borderline...i feel like i'm goin to loose my mind!
look...now i'm gett'n flaklempt!
talk amongst yerselves...i'll give you a topic....MADONNA...she's neither a virgin or from Virginia...discuss!

so there i was a couple months back...a few years ago...chatter'n amongst the lost lonely souls along the informational highway look'n fer fornicational pleasures at the easiest and apparently...the most polluted and diluted...i mean the most "popular" informational highway rest stop...
out there...GRINDR...strictly as a sexually charged starved observationalist of course

well truth be told...i actually loathe non verbal communication completely...
about as much as i loathe sushi...Belushi...phoney's and flakes...and definitely anything deep fried on a steak...the socially retarded...the chemically dependents...and what is up with all these emotionally delayed defendants?

i think Miss Macgregor's nipples said it best when they said...

bein' the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe that i am...i seriously don't have time to be bothered with
play'n the proverbial text game of cat and mouse...i mean come on...i'm a pseudo sorta somewhat star in my own mind after all...i don't have to put up with that shit!
so unless i'm totally engaged in a deep conversation of yer boredom...i just throw my contact number out there like candy to the depraved non heterosexual kittens with a pulse...in hopes fer some human inter"action"

when ya think about it really though...text'n is sooo impersonal...it was
much more romantic when our ancestral indian mo's used to send smoke signals...granted you never knew back then if it was fer a hook-up...or they just needed a bucket of water cuz their tee-pee was on fire...but just like smoke signals...9.5 times outta 10 (and trust me...that .5 helps)...they rarely ever call back anyways...cuz aggressively passiveness is sooo much more attractive...don'tcha think?

well on the occasion that the one half that actually do decide to do voice on voice connection...i do my best to try and weed out their intentions within the first 5 to 15 minutes...and make my call if it's gonna end up bein' a terrific nite on the town...or just a tea bag party after the sun goes down
and if the latter is the case...i do my stretches and make sure to lay out an assortment of spermicidal jams and jellies...i am a safety gurl after all

one even'n while i was pump'n my pecs...plural here...(don't get twisted)...i received a text from an out of my area code unknown number
short story a lil longer than needed...yer name ain't in my cellular device?...you either lost my interest...or didn't bring me any canned goods!...such was the case i guess with said texted man...but i'm all about give'n it up to charity...when a quota is needed...so i said to him...send me a pic to remind me why i didn't wanna be bothered to log you in my phone in the first place...cuz now maybe i do...one never knows right?

minutes later...i received a text look'n like the guy work'n out next to me...
now...i can neither confirm nor deny that said picture is the texter in question...so play along with me on this one...so at first i thought...S-C-O-R-E...well he was gravy train after all!

but as i looked closer to the picture...it was my back stand'n next to him?
hmmm?...now this text was turn'n more into like...the call is come'n from inside the house!

i immediately put down the dumbbells and pulled up my leg warmers...and skedaddled the H-E-double hockey stix outta there...as i was head'n out... 
my good friend Faedre called and i was tell'n her about this freak who took a pic of me work'n out...and not that THAT was so unusual...but it was more the manner that the pic was take'n...it was take'n thru the window of the gym
my 1st OFFICIAL STALKER!...now i know what it feels like to be MADONNA...well...minus the gazillion dollars in my piggy bank...a hot bilingual conalingul to read bed time stories to...and a posse of A double snake kissers every where i go to do my bidd'n...but at least we now have a common thread to talk about over beluga caviar...carrot strips and some kabbalah on the side...if the situation should ever happen that we meet...again

by the time i had made it home...i started gett'n dinner ready and noticed another text from him...but decided that this cat and mouse game had gone on long enough...so i deleted it without even read'n it...then another text had come thru...this time with a pic that looked awfully familiar to me...
CUZ IT WAS ME LEAVE'N THE GYM!
seriously kittens...this was now gett'n a lil to "i will not be ignored!"
and i was in no mood fer bunny soup that even'n!

3 hours later...as i was O.D.'n on S.A.T.C..since i wasn't have'n any...
a call came thru with no name...but i was so strung out like some junkie whore on the show...that i picked it up without think'n...they said they were Jay and that we met a while back...hmmm i did meet a Jay in chicago over market days that was from the Minne-Apple...and wanted to "hang out"...so i said sure come on over...but only to swap stories...not split you like a sunday...cuz i was gett'n ready to count sheep

30 mins later...a text popped up say'n he was here...so i threw on my Smurf jammies (why not!) and headed fer the back door...(lil side note...contrary to popular belief...that is my door of choice...i gotta tattoo above mine that says exit only...unless you gimme a ring) but any who'zll'ding...as i reached the top of the steps...i could see some odd guy
peer'n thru my back door window...hmmm...this was not the Jay that i had previously met in Chicago...though he hadda sorta Colin Farrell attractiveness...(if i have early onset dementia and glaucoma of the eyes)
 in a Charles Nelson Reilly sorta way...
i had zero clue who he was and was in no mood to play 20 questions...so i opened the back door and asked him who he was...turns out...
 HE WAS MY STALKER!

as he paced back and forth in the park'n lot try'n to get me to let him inside...i wondered....hmmm....how did he ever find me?...then i thought wait!...i'm thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own damn universe...i don't have to put up with this shit!
then i noticed he had on a back pack...and was sweat'n like a priest on a playground...so i let him talk...cuz i wasn't wear'n my explosive deflector jammies that particular even'n

he pretty much rambled on...hop scotch'n from random story to random story...how 95% of non heterosexuals lie on line about themselves (can't argue with him there unfortunately)...how i was good look'n (again...good point!) but looked like i'm pretentious (hey hold up a minute there...i'm not conceited...just convinced!)...then he went off the deep end about if he ever had kids and the stove was on how he would let them touch it and they would learn their lesson and how no one ever wants to hang out...
with him...and how he has an IQ of 110...A-N-D...time to go P-S-Y-C-H-O! 

i told him it's been lovely meet'n him and thanked him fer play'n...
he went home with some beautiful part'n gifts...a phone number to a "friend" of mine who works with the "lollipop guild" society and some unused turtle wax i had left over from my price is right winn'ns back in '87...and made my way back inside my shit box...
i racked my brain over and over how he found me as i applied my St Ives mint julip mud mask...turns out a friend i had called said that any picture's that i may have take'n in my own lil shit box i call home and sent out to the universe...can easily be tracked by GPS from my phone
DOH!

i knew upgrade'n my dino flip phone to a smart phone was gonna be the death of me...my dumb ass would never figer out all the tricks and triggers and chaos's it could cause...it's a trilogy of terror i could live without!

3 days later...i received a call from yet another unknown number...and like an idiot think'n it could be a call from Ed McMahon tell'n me i had won the publishers clear'n house bullshit...(before i realized he's dead) i picked up!
he wanted to know what my name was...i said "WHY?"...he said...
 "cuz i wanna know who i'm look'n at!"

well it has been 4 years since my stalker left me...but i know he's out there...watch'n...wait'n...want'n more...of me...well why the hell not?
but i'm in no mood to have'ta get my number changed...again...fer fuck's sakes...i can barely remember my ABC's...let alone my STD's...so until we meet again...and i'm sure we will...

GET OFF MY DRESS!

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