LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE: the stupid bowl chronicles pt. 2

last week on BLOSSUM...Joey learned all about the "tough love" of pegg'n

but get a ticket to the catch up train kittens...cuz this blog ain't about that twisted television series about the morally deprived sexual explorations of these curiously callous pimple paraders

in case ya missed last week's episode...check it out here....and NOW

on with the dramatics of...
 LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE: the stupid bowl chronicles

by the time dawn had come a knock'n on my window...i had gotten up...

alot earlier than normal...well only cuz the mayor of desperadoville was bang'n on my bedroom blinds look'n fer a free hand out...but i was in no mood fer a charity case this particular morn'n...i needed to keep my A double snakes from scrape'n on the sidewalk now that i am a few mere years away from knock'n on AARP's doors myself...so i bundle'd up in my best subtle work-out frock and headed off to jazzercise class

60 minutes would pass and i was finally planted back on my over stuffed

"battle scarred" cherry red couch...anxiously await'n fer my NFL cell to start blow'n up with pick-ups any minute...i was starve'n fer a Marvin...but i knew he was outta town til next week...and my hunger pains were stabb'n at my like a serial killer on a chopp'n spree so i opened up my frigid box to find a half eaten pan of cherry cheesecake give'n me the look of death and thought...eh...why not!...

of course the only proper thing that could pass the time with a half eaten pan of dried out cherry cheese cake give'n you those guilty feel'ns is a "GOLDEN GIRLS" marathon...so i hooked myself up to my metamucil drip and started to OD

tick tock tick tock tick tock...the morn'n went by

tick tock tick tock tick tock...the afternoon went by

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK TICK TOCK...
my trick of the nite said G-O-O-D B-Y-E!

the chauffeur company was lucky i owned all 8 seasons of "GOLDEN GIRLS" cuz i couldn't take it any more...

and blew my fuse by midnite and called it a nite!

by next morn'n day 3...8 am...i called the limo orifice once again to inquire

what the H-E-double hockey stix was actually goin on and when i would be gett'n any passenger or passengers to schlep around town...since it had been 2 days of no schlepp'n period...they finally informed me that i would be gett'n a text shortly...and in 15 minutes...it FINALLY showed up...who was it gonna be...PINK? JT?

ERNEST BORGNINE's corpse?

turns out it was some NFL hall of famer AENEAS WILLIAMS...i of course was completely oblivious to this person...so i contacted my good friends at google to find out exactly why i cared so much to pick this passenger up...turns out...just on looks alone...he was grrrrravy on my mashed potatoes!

pick up time wasn't until 16:45...but it was only 8:30 in the fuck'n morn'n...

so with my self diagnosed ADHD issues...i drove all over town search'n feverishly for a damn clock that had numbers above 12...and ya know what?...i couldn't find a damn one anywhere!...then i realized after chatt'n with my friends at google once again...that 16:45 was military time

as much as i needed a V8 with splashes of voli and extra olives by now

i knew it was time to get myself together...so i rinsed off quickly in the shower...splashed on my jean nate' after bath body splash...relooked over my itinerary fer the 100th time to see when and where i was pick'n up and dropp'n off Mr. Williams...which turned out to be at the Hilton hotel (where i used to work pre-unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe days)...so i knew i only had a mile or so to get to my destination...and bein' the girly squat that i am...i wanted to make sure to arrive 15 minutes early
(well cuz it was also written in the manifesto that way)

since i wasn't pick'n Mr. Williams up on the beaches of beautiful Waikiki...

i assumed he would be patiently wait'n for me in the lobby of the Hilton when i arrived exactly as planned...on my tauntaun...but lil to my surprise...he was not!...even though i arrived 15 minutes early...15 more minutes would pass until i decided to contact his contact person on the horn and wonder where the H-E-double hockey stix was Mr. Willaims plump A double snakes?...his PA assured me he would be down shortly...

i said..."ohhh A-L-R-I-G-H-T!"

tick tock tick tock tick tock...15 more minutes...

tick tock tick tock tick tock...15 MORE MINUTES?

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK TICK TOCK...WTF?
this hall of famer was quickly become'n a hall of lamer

F-I-N-A-L-L-Y an hour later...this very hot...but very nobody to me...

at this point...decided to grace my presence as i graciously opened the door for him...and turned up my A double snake holder to volcanic degrees to thaw out my now ice cubed balls...before i was ready to blow myself (and NO i'm not that talented) so off we headed out to SEVEN restaurant that was roughly about 8 blocks away...but unfortunately...NOW...and hour later than scheduled...we were stuck in SUPER BOWL rush hour bullshit...this of course was not MY FAULT!

after spend'n roughly only 10 minutes to go roughly only 2 blocks...we

both had had enough...but once i had finally gotten to turn the corner...i swore i had just pulled up to a check point in some dark Ukraine peninsula with a military humvee block'n traffic fer the throngs of knuckleheads that were mill'n about attend'n the Super Bowl experience on nicollet ave in downtown Minne-Apple...of course Mr. sex-on-a-stick...and slow as molasses in January...was become'n impatient all of a sudden and asked me fer directions cuz he was ready to jump ship and trot his perky antsy pants there on his very own

hmmm? do i just let him out and let him figer it out on his own?...5 more minutes would pass and we were finally allowed to proceed to our destination

after dropp'n off my passenger i was ordered (via my manifesto) to park

2 blocks away in the lot and await fer Mr. fancy pants pick-up text when he was ready to hit the hay...well of course...the bumble fuckery that was happen'n with the traffic cops that nite...i ended up in some park'n lot that cost me the cost of a non happy hour apple-tini...in the BIG APPLE...though i knew i would become compensated fer shell'n out to sit and wait fer 2.5 hrs until my passenger decided he had enough...it would be 3 weeks before i would see said apple-tini cost

(i was not too pleased to get this information)

as i drove the hot party pooper back to his hotel...i thought to myself...

i said self...look on the bright side...even though he made you wait an hr in frigid temperatures (but to be fair...i suppose he could'a been make'n the biggest meatloaf sacrifice known to man)...and another 2.5 in an unpaid for lot...it was an experience that i'll never ever get again probably in my lifetime...i was extremely profresh and completely attentive to his every command...so i figered this hall of famer was well take'n care of during his career and his time with me...and now...he would be more than happy to take care of MEEEEEEEEEE!

as i pulled up to the turnabout...in just mere seconds...i had gone from mild

 manicured vehicular slave...to jump'n into my absolutely stunned blouse...shocked culottes and pissed of pumps...only cuz this cheap ass (but very grrrrranimal) ball sack had just lepped outta the back seat before i even had a chance to open my door to open his...and just said "THANX"...fer a split second i completely understood where Kayne was come'n from that year with BECK...my pissed off pumps became cement blocks as i drudged thru the blister'n cold that even'n back to my shitbox

FUCKITY FUCK FUCKERY!

tune in next week fer the excruciate'n concussion of...
LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE: the stupid bowl chronicles

now get off my dress!