pleasantly planetary existence...grow'n up with the perfectly manicured lawns with perfectly painted picket fences...exchange'n pleasantly pleasant pleasantries with the nosey nutcase neighbor who's only means of survival is a hefty help'n of neurosis salad and wash'n it down with a chilled glass of pleasant paranoia periodically
well i'm here to tell you kittens...those days have long disappeared faster than Andora from Derwood!
so like the most of you out there yearn'n to return'n to somewhat of a very
normal life after the last year of live'n inside a Laura Branigan video...starve'n fer any attention from anyone who would bother to pay you fer yer attention in anyway possible along the informational highways from pay-per-viewed performances from brain dead celebs and technologically retarded queens who spent 70% of every online production bitch'n cuz they weren't able to figer out if they were live or not then the next 25% say'n hi to everyone who logged in one by one to the last 5% on their actual performance before bidd'n ado...
all while shopp'n to reload yer goody drawer til yer dropp'n yer dignity fer some socially distanced satisfaction at some out of yer area code neighborhood gas station so you wouldn't have to explain to yer significant other in the off chance you lusted til yer busted by some pollyanna puritan
well...after bein kamikazed by one fake cool clothin' site after another
fer over a year...taunt'n this unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe daily that i desperately needed to update my out dated wardrobe to the point of bein to paranoid to eat potato salad fer fear of "them" listen'n in to my every desire...though i diligently researched every site before order'n anything online since i had spent 10 years of my bank'n life work'n in the fraud department which was pretty much comparable to my love life...and just like my love life...one site after another turned out to be as fake as most of my orgasms
well...this one ad in particular kept putt’n me in a daily trance tell’n me i needed this fab DIVINE tee of which i believed to be true...
so after i put on my Jessica Fletcher cap to do a lil investigate’n...turns out they wanted £165 so i left a simple comment about how i’ve seen better prints under $30 under some other comment as they said they bought theirs cheaper as well and the owner of said site chimes in with “those aren’t OFFICIAL DIVINE tees” and that it takes money away from DIVINE’s family
ummm since my greatest muse that turned me onto the world of high heels and low expectations DIVINE was an only child that unfortunately passed away in 1988
with his parents follow’n in his footsteps in 1993 & 2009...its safe to say that neither will be benefitt’n from ANY sales in the near future of ANY products DIVINE is slapped onto
of course the site moderator chimed back in say’n his mother FRANCIS MILSTEAD gave him the rights before she died to all things DIVINE before call’n me a twat (HA...how profesh... apparently i even possess the power to piss off the site moderator) even though i could not independently verify that said moderator was thee actual owner of all things DIVINE...
i simply wasn’t gonna line his or her piggy bank fer the over priced hack job on a tee of the greatest queen who ever lived with that fuck’n potty talk of theirs!
BUTT then...
one early morn'n as i was rearrange'n my DNA i was pleasantly surprised
to find that one such website was but a mere hop...skip and a massive jump away from my front door so i threw on my tacky khaki camouflaged culottes with match'n crocs...warmed up the engine and blasted off like a murderer on a mission!
thank CHER fer my australian co-pilot Scarlett recite'n me directions
via my cell cuz i was turn'n into an angry minnow outta water and outta patience try'na find said damn location...however...45 minutes later i had finally reached my desired destination on the outer reaches of Eagan MN...who would'a thunk i'd find myself in some tiny ass strip mall just to posses a lime green SLEESTAK hat that any self respect’n 70's saturday morn'n junkie lived for from the "LAND OF THE LOST" series which had been taunt'n me fer weeks on end as well at this point...tell'n me i had to have it though each time i tried order'n it on line it always said it was sold out...however...now my mission has been completed!
ANGRY MINNOW VINTAGE was the name of the shop and though i had
only planned on purchase'n said SLEESTAK hat to appease my inner crave'ns...the lovely lady allowed me secret access to the warehouse to mill about and i swear i felt like VERUCA SALT walk'n into Willy Wonka's factory...the retail gods would end up suck'n me dry faster than any horny toad from the hood
with 2 more hats include'n one with SIGMUND THE SEA MONSTER
and a sexy 70's DOLLY PARTON flannel blouse that will make you the envy of any conscious card carry'n homo depotter and rehab scab you run across plus it's perfect fer all those cold and lonely MN nites that are wait'n fer us right around the corner (which is not even available on their website...yet...how VIP is that?)
well now that i've thankfully and temporarily cured my clothing addiction
by acclimate'n myself back into some much needed hands on retail therapy...it's time fer me to showcase my collection to the 4 legged fury castaways down the hallways outside my shit box...i mean my quaint lil shit box apt...so GET OFF MY DRESS!
No comments:
Post a Comment