Monday, November 27, 2017

buff puff

i was recently reminded…a while back…by this mo who don't know jack
that "str8 act'n and appear'n" is apparently the new black!
 (how dr. suess of me and i wasn’t even try'n…i swear)

by that…i don’t mean that african american…african european…
african asian or african african (did i leave anybody out?) non heterosexual men are the latest in relationship accessories…

hot mixed interracial relationships have been around...
since Tom and Helen Willis of the "Jefferson’s"

(that was not meant to be in any way…shape or form…single'n out any ethnicity of any part of the universe)

i'm not a complete social retard…but nor do i march in the PC parade
i’ve seen Prince like 3 times live...
and own almost all of Tina Turner’s musical history 
(stay with me kittens…i will make my point…eventually)

no…what i speakith of…is far more taboo…a rare hybrid sub culture of...
the non heterosexuals who try and pass themselves off as "STR8"...
by act'n and appear'n in a way publicly that is perceived by others that they have the ability to completely fool members of their own naturally born non heterosexual race as well as those of the naturally born non homosexual race…just to prove to their narcissistic riddled ego their inability to deal with themselves as a mo’

and in their feebly delusional mind…they also believe they can…get this…
sexually turn a non homosexual into a non heterosexual…and that THAT would then be their greatest accomplishment to their entire existence

well i'm hear to tell ya…ya ain't fool'n no one mary mary on the contrary…
let's keep the "act’n" for the professionally trained....oh kaaaay gurlfriend!

there are many theories of how this sub culture of no-no homo's derived :
too much fake bake'n with a spray tan before goin' to the beach or on some tropical island vacation…
Miller beer…
the RAM truck 
(fer overcompensational purposes due to their "shortcumm'n" i'm sure) 
watch'n all 4 seasons of "PRISON BREAK" on a loop 
(one word…WENTWORTH MILLER…meeeouch!)

these are just a few suggestions…there are a merried of theories out there

hold up…now before you grab yer picket signs…coon dog and hop in yer monster truck (and by that i mean…work-out purse…pekineses and pontiac grand prix)…i am not suggest’n in the slightest that some of you non heterosexuals out there cruise’n around along the informational
highway on...yer daily 5 minute break from adam4adam…gaydar…grinder…mancunt...scruff...jak'd...or whateva social site you choose to cruise for the latest has-been or been-had by half the population fer some dimestore dick…are not just being yerself as you would...regardless of who was/wasn’t present

a quick hiccup…for those right wing’n…apocalyptic fear’n…anti-bacterial soap’n…leave-it-to-beaver thinkers who think i or anyone of my naturally born non heterosexual race would CHOOSE to live this way…ummm ya...
pick a finger!

think about it…if we didn’t have hetero’s…we wouldn’t have homo’s…
if we didn't have homo's…we wouldn’t have poppers…
if we didn't have poppers…we wouldn't have brain damage…
and if we didn’t have brain damage…i'd be the only one read'n this right now!

now…where was i?...oh yes...

no...i am merely speak'n to the trend of non heterosexuals known as...
the socially retarded…chemically dependent…emotionally unavailable...self-loath'n…narcissistically rare mo'…otherwise known as the "muscle mary"

in the simplest of terms…a “muscle mary” consists of the follw'n...
high maintenance groom'n for a minimum of an hour in front of their bathroom mirror…and decide'n which undergarment looks best on them to take that "all natural" non posed selfie to update their profile on 
www.peniledenial.com...
before head'n to the gym…for another hour of check'n themselves out in the locker room mirror (and who’s check’n them out) and squeeze in enough time to take that "all natural" non posed selfie to update their profile on www.poundmetilthesunormecumup.com…
then do the usual work-out routine til they break a sweat from check'n themselves out on the gym floor mirror (and who was check'n them out)…pop into the steam room to see what they're serve'n at the cock buffet…
then publicly pretend they have no inclination of someone's existence…because of the other person’s acceptance of who they are…what they do for a live’n…or how they may choose to dress themselves…and whether or not last season’s Prada bag falls outta their mouth every time they open it and their comfortness level around others in public…or that there is any remote interest in said person…

but secretly are the first ones to have their feet stapled to the bedroom ceil’n before you get the front door closed on any random friday nite!
we hate to be judged…but let’s face it…we all have played judge…jury and prostituted for our acceptance to someone we found remotely interest'n at a glance at some point in our life

oops…may have to back-up on that one there…if yer not me (and why would you be) i can sense yer confusional delay…so grab a ticket and hop aboard the catch-up train and i'll take ya there…in a minute or so
i am and have always been…mostly…comfortable in my natural born non heterosexual body and mind (though being a guinea pig for those governmental drug studies back in ’93 altered things…just a lil bit)
i used to be the skinny minny that would get shunned by the hideously delicious muscle mary flock corral’n around in circles at any downtown non heterosexual entertainment establishment...in my temporary town i've called home fer the past 27 years
until one day i joined a gym for personal and mental growth...and all of a sudden the gates flew open…i was accepted as one of the flock...
at first i felt like i had made a bad judgment in judge'n the judgers…then i realized…when it was discovered time and time again thru word of mouth...
within the flock...that i was indeed the unintentionally internationally unknown perform’n illusionist of my own universe...and durty gurl of the Minne-Apple...KRYSTAL KLEER…i would be shunned once again by the flock in public or on-line…though privately…via text or any on-line meat market...more than a handful would prostitute themselves for my "ATTENTION" (i’m talk’n about the "basement meat")
too be fair…money was never exchanged…cocktails…cuisine and/or barely there conversations…yes...but never any benjamins!

why did i care what they thought?...why does anyone care what they think?...they don't! (it’s hurts their brain too much to think…what…with their balls take’n up so much space) so in conclusion to erase any
confusion...they are not trophies…but a testament to the torment we all felt as an awkward teenager on any given playground try'n to just fit in

some were a friend…but that's come to an end
they're just an illusion…filled with chaos and confusion
i'm a buff  with a puff…and a hella LOTTA stuff
they're just a mess…so just get off my dress!

Monday, November 20, 2017

oh BOY...BINGO!

so there i was last weekend...count'n my ABC's...and and catalogue'n
my STD's...at a very highly intense game of "where's my metamucil martini?" with a bunch of eye sore dress'n Ben-Gay beauties and my really really REALLY good close friend...oh shit...what's her name again?
hmmm...wait...gimme a minute...it's on the tip of my tongue (really good friend...known each other fer years...owns her own biz)...UGH...dammit it all to H-E-double hockey stix...Vanna...i'd like to buy a vowel please...can i get a Y?
well what in the sam hell?...oh well...once the metamucil martini kicks in...it'll come to me...so anywho'zll'ding...so there we were...me and my non dick slapp'n sidekick that i had just kidnapped fer the day from River Falls, WI...a foreign country...to me...sweat'n it out like a bunch of banshee's in Belize...play'n regular BINGO...
when all of sudden they called my fav-o-rit number fer the win...YES YES YES...165 BIG ONES...ALL MINE...i was completely shocked...after all the 10's of 1's i had spent...from what had seemed like eons...well was really only a couple of weeks total over the past 3 years of play'n with my cuz...but wouldn't ya know it...my world would completely shatter
when 2 other blue rinse bitches would have to ruin my dream of own'n my very own high priced hooker fer an out call fer the next 60 minutes...by popp'n in their jell-O chompers and screetch'n B-I-N-G-O!
CURSES!!!
but i digress undress!
as i took that long forlornly pissed off walk thru the park'n lot to my busted out shit mobile...my cell phone trilogy of terror...informed me of a personal text in my instagram account that i rarely ever check...the follow'n is thee actual conversation that occurred a couple of weeks back :
at first i was like...ya right...why are YOU contact'n ME thru instagram?
then i thought...waid'a'minute...WHY NOT? but this was no ordinary stalker i hadda deal with kittens cuz this HIGH PROFILE stalker was thee biggest i've ever come in contact with
(and i don't mean that in a narcotic sorta way...you damn finger pointers)
WOW...just WOW!
i hadda do all i could do to keep the giddy natives in the deepest corners of my empty soul from escape'n and goin all turrets on myself as i was ready to go center stage dur'in my car concert
with the latest BETH DITTO cd (ps...if you haven't...you must...it's sooo good!)...so i calmed my tits down fer a minute breath'n in and out and opened like a lotus flower...while chant'n nam myoho renge kyo...as i waited patiently fer his reply
i thought...hmmm...yea could'a at least threw my a complimentary bone MISTER SISTER...with all the damn benjamins i doled out to travel the corners of the globe in cognito to just getta glipse of  ya since you've been like my POP GODDESS since 1982...but anywho'z'll'ding...so BOY's reach'n out to MEEEE fer a "confidential" project...that is too big fer his own mgr?...this was GIGANTOR!!...this was better than winn'n anything at BINGO...the POWERBALL...
this even beats out front row tickets to CHER's colonic!
so of course i hadda play it off r-e-a-l cool cucumber and all without...you know... look'n like i really had time to deal with him or his secret affairs
i thought...maybe he needed a new make-up artist?...or maybe...he heard me lyp sync on stage once and wanted to record a duet?...or maybe...just maybe...
he wanted me to play him at the revival of TABOO?...who knew!
so i knew at this point...it was time to write my resignation letter and pack up my past...cuz when a superstar with his background says he needs somethin' done...you don't ask what it is...you just do it!
hmmm...hold up...waid'a'minute...let me put some grove in it!...a mega force of nature like BOY...
want'n lil ol' me to pull off some Boris and Natasha bullshit in the middle of the nite...so his mgr doesn't find out?...uh huh...somethin' don't smell right...but i was still intrigued enough to believe this was actually a genuine request that would most likely never transpire...but just in case...like a good falter'n catholic that doubles down at his or hers death bed in the off chance all those CASPER crusaders were right...i still believed...just'a bit...(hey...can ya blame me?)
i anxiously awaited his response with tuna on my breath...(keep yer mind outta the gutter) but of course...i hadda put in my 2 cents worth...ya know...just so i don't look like a complete A double snakes if this ain't the real deal
well by now i was quite sure...if this was ACTUALLY BOY contact'n me...it was a mistake...cuz he knows i'm well worth MORE than 20%...so i figered he had put just a lil too much Imodium AD in his earl grey tea...and hit me by mistake (i was crushed)...but i thought.on the OFF CHANCE it's not...i might as well give'm my digits...it ain't gonna hurt none
and so i did...
turns out...it was just some damn hacker that created a fake BOY account...if i ACTUALLY looked closer at the instagram header...i'da figered it out...(this is BOY's actual account if you wanna follow him...why not!) so of course my dream of gett'n outta this shithole and gett'n on OPRAH was shattered...what else is knew?
BUTT...
since we're on the subject of jokes...if yer look'n to purchase lil ol' me a lil quazi consolation christmas prezzie to soften my utter fantastical humiliation...
you can do that HERE...(PEETRINELLA...i'm just say'n...christmas is around the corner and you don't wanna suffer the same xmas fate as yer lovely sis...do you?)
but before i go...BOY...if yer read'n this (and i know you are) FYI...i'm still wait'n on that blog interview...kisses QUEEN!

now get off my dress!