greeted by all those annoyingly thunderous goo's and gushes in every nook and cranny from every granny Aiken's to the uncle Orlean's around the planet...we are told we're gett'n old and we as a society will go to whatever extremes to cling onto the past at any and all costs...regardless of the ramifications...unfortunately there is no magic wand nor fountains of youthful elixirs...
that will help turn back time...
to stop yer unfortunate age'n process rott'n corpse from become'n just a mere moment in someone's memory...
BUTT...there are options!
ever since i was a traumatized teenaged terror in a town full of total uptight
tit slinge'n fly trappers and pabst blue ribbon beer guzzle'n balance'n acts that frequented Roy's Little Nashville Bar kitty corner from the block i used to live on in some simple and small minded MN town...i made it my pre-unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe's life's mission not to tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen just to pour myself a cup of some damn ambition
though there have been many a queens thru-out the distance of time...
years before MADONNA would become the queen of the dance floor...
BOY was the queen of london...
and FREDDY was the QUEEN of rock-n-roll...
however...the only queen i truly got to personally know on a one to one
weekly basis...the queen of all clays who was my go-to to give a backhand sammich to father time while clean'n out my pores in that under stated porcelain white tube topped off with her emerald green crown was QUEEN HELENE (however fuck that 33% more market'n scheme cuz it NEVER existed...it was just full of air)
of course this was mainly due to the barrage of magazine market'n and tv
jingles that traumatized our teenage insecurities since we were already the leader of our own personally destructive pity parade of our own personally awkward looks and then there was that one episode of Phil Donahue on skin cancer that didn't help matters
i can remember some years later when i was forced out on my very own
and started out my career as a beauty school drop-out...my all time fav-o-rit teacher Anna Overland tell'n the class when it came to skin care to always moisturize...moisturize...moisturize then to switch up yer moisturizer every 3 months so yer skin would not get used to a routine much like a gym trainer would tell their client to switch up their work-outs every 3 months so their muscles won't plateau and i've pretty much stuck to that routine weekly fer the past 35+ years...though QUEEN HELENE and me have parted ways years ago thanx to technology
though i would be the worlds worst crack addict...just fer the simple fact
that i hate needles...if i happen to notice parts of me crack'n as i climbed the ladder of life...i'd search out fer the latest and greatest affordable lotions to help keep father time from tap dance'n around me fer yet another year and fer the most part since i wasn't bake'n like bacon every summer since the 80's...eat'n a pretty clean lifestyle (outside of the occasional dirty throat plunger now and then) and work'n out off and on routinely...i've managed to fool the fools who thought i was a fool fer practice'n this lifestyle and now foolishly they wish they'd had practiced my foolery
however...don't confuse that with me degrade'n yer groom'n habits or choices in life...we ALL make them and we ALL must life by them...i'm not impressed if you think i'm not 50 or if you think i look 150 nor do i care if you think i've had any work done...i own it if i did..I AM in my 50+ check mark box of life now and still more fuck'n fabuless-than-the-goin-rate!
if yer insecurely comfortable use'n yer body as some experimental pin
cushion fer the latest botulistic jab putt'n yerself in debt just to make that perfect selfie that'll be ferever lost amongst the garbage piles of social media by next week...i say go fer it...we live in an alternate universe these days and anyways with the millions of downloadable beauty apps available at our finger prints we can all look like a fetus in a wig if we really want to...but don't wig out if you get called out in person...society has conditioned us to think that after the age of 20...florescent light'n IS NOT yer friend...after 30 back light'n IS NOT yer friend...after 40 overhead light'n IS NOT yer friend and once yer in yer golden age you outta just turn off the damn lights all together!
so one afternoon as i was hop scotch'n between all the diabetic paraders
and fantastic sam hair disasters at some random eye sore mall while wait'n to get financially raped by yet another dipshitt'n dip stick’n mechanic...this adorably confused middle easternish Ariana fanniccino Grande thing stalk'n walkers outside some over priced skin care treatment enclosure try'n desperately to corral them inside had reluctantly put me under his spell by batt'n his butterfly lashes and give'n me a free sample of jack-off hand cream to get me inside to purchase some over priced delusional concoction to turn back time so of course i couldn't resist his ming ring and got all Dale Arden on his bubblicious A double snakes
now flattery at any age is always an ego booster fer anyone regardless
if you know they're lie'n thru their yellow stained meth teeth or not and trust me...he was spread'n it like a hooker would their legs fer a mink and a mansion and once inside his web of deception he pulled out a "new innovative cream" that says will help cure me of my crows feet...
ummmmm excuse...why Blanche...have you gone blind?
now even though my ego needs no booster seat....my ego also needs no
crows feet kill'n cream since...well...i fortunately have no crow's feet to kill at the present time
however when the times comes…i will deal with it how i see fit!
seriously...i mean i get the script is yer bread and butter at the moment
till you go home to yer parents basement to smoke a bowl and o.d. on a bag of stale jalapeño dorito's you found stuffed between yer couch cushions then check how many followers you got on yer latest tacky tiktok post and if Charli D'Amelio commented on it at all...but gurrrrrrrl PUHLEEZ...you think i'm SHOOK by suggest'n i need yer shitty over priced syrup sludge to smooth out my face?
i have not and DO NOT marinate in Ernest Borgnine beauty crème once a week fer the past 35 years to look this acceptable
when i finally find a crow leave'n their foot prints in my face i'll deal with it
not cuz society beats me down to put myself in financial ruin...think about it kittens...not everyone can age gracefully...some never get to age at all while some age with absolute grace while others are just full of demented DNA disgrace
however...that's their choice to live with it so who am i to judge judy them
so with that in mind...GET OFF MY DRESS!
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