THE WAY WE WERE

picture it kittens...the year was 1973 and K-K-K-K-ATIE MOROSKY who

was played by that semi operatic anti war protestor BARBARA STREISAND fall'n in love with this uppity waspy classmate of hers that had his sites set on hollyweird named HUBBEL played by the righteous ROBERT REDFORD who could barely remember "THE WAY WE WERE" by film's end

CARLY SIMON topped the charts by bottom'n out all those egotistical narcissist's everywhere with her backhand sammich hit "YOU'RE SO VAIN"

and WALTER CRONKITE delivered the devastate'n news to all right wing maniacal anti abortionists everywhere

BUTT let's move on if you can...

fast forward to 42 years later (8 years back) and i found myself relive'n 

key elements of that time in space from 1973 (thanx to a FB memories reminder) see...i've been in the biz of show off and on fer the better part of 25+ years now and lemme tell you...things can get petty ugly at the drop of a dildo

with PRIDE month finally cumm'n to a close...i found myself reminisce'n 

of the last time when i participated in PRIDE...it felt as if i was right in the middle of a bad episode about some petty and bilious reality show once the claws came out durin' one pitiful PRIDE event after some piteous pigeon toed piranha tried pour'n a glass of pinot misery on my parade

so puff on yer virgina slims while slurp'n on a delicate glass of 2 buck chuck and enjoy this trip down memory lame

many many moons ago my sensationally savvy CEO and simply sublime

VP of my fan club had inquired about throw'n a new bash atop a certain downtown rooftop eatery fer PRIDE weekend in the Minne-Apple to try and wake up plus shake up this tired city...

with a taste of glorification and grandeur that this town had been so desperately lack'n fer (let's be honest) years sadly

we were toss'n up idea's as to who could pack the punchline in the lunch 

 line dur'in the annual non heterosexual parade...someone who was in yer face like date rape mace...someone quick with the whip that's still pretty hip...someone clever and funny so we opted fer LADY BUNNY

of course what roof top party would be completely complete without a lil

sprinkle'n of just a few savory eyesores eye candy butt models from Andrew Christian give'n away free underwear (and maybe even a few std's if yer lucky enough to get their number)

and then suddenly it was as if a tantrum tornado started to whip up from the west!

well...deposits were paid fer BUNNY and the boys at this unnamed eatery

nonetheless leave it to some self-centered bloated pig in wig to toss a pissy hissy!

trust me...she ain't worth mention'n (though i've worked with her before) even if she may be artistically inclined with floral arrangements by drown'n 'em in glitter and glow lites dur'in the holidays...

 she's nothin' but a maniacal merlot bore...nothing more and then i started hear'n rumors around town that she professed how she was the "MADONNA" of the Minne-Apple and that she made boat loads of benjamins every year at her brunch salad bar while she would have one of her many epic merlot meltdowns though she was extremely elated when she heard that some "huge corporation" wanted to sponsor her sad soiree...

here's the deal-o unfortunately (i hate to be the bearer of bad news) the "HUGE CORPORATION" she was referr'n to was the CEO and VP of MY fan club...and truth be told...this annual event had been loose'n money year after year which was in dire need of a defibrillator with a new name and a new cast that could bring it back to life and bring in the big bucks...however...the owner did not see eye to eye with my fan club members...

 cuz even though he lost money year after year...he felt some loyalty to this self-involved eye sore...nonetheless said we could still do the party as planned as long as they forked over a bundle to cover his loses from the past 3 years before we would see a profit

 so my VP pulled the plug on the whole damn show and skedaddled outta dodge...though CUNT WEEDS was goin around town tell'n those who wished they could rearrange their DNA in the form of Helen Keller...that she had stolen the party out from under us...

 Alex...i'd like to take "delightfully delusional" fer $1000 pleez?

 though i was a bit disappointed...i was in no way expect'n the board of my fan club to cover someone else's mistakes...so i tucked in my tail and moved on as well

that is...until i recently read an article written by some snoreville ink slinger

who worked at some local mag rag mention'n how said CUNT had done floral arrangements fer the QUEEN's birthday bash

 and helped in the redecoration of Prince's throw pillows at Paisley Park in the 90's

 Miss "my name's on the marquee" drops as many names as fast as she drops her glass of wine and in the 15 some years that i've known this self diluted drunk...not ONCE was the QUEEN ever mentioned...

so i put on my Angela Lansbury cap and did a lil investigate'n...
only to find out that she was fired from the Paisley Park staff after a day fer bad mouth'n her boss and steal'n material from the purple paisley man himself...

 so there was no need to delve into this rubbish any further though my ghost writer (IVANA P) decided to write a retort to said fabricational story in some shitty monthly rag said "reporter" worked at to set the record straight once and fer all:

"seriously?...there's more holes in that story than a slice of swiss cheese 

and Bonnie & Clyde put together...this is just a poorly written episode of PR FLUF~N~STUFF!

if you REALLY want an exclusive...lemme tell you about the time me and 

Madonna decided to get away fer the weekend by hopp'n aboard the Starship Enterprise to the planet Uranus...

and had tiki cocktails and kiki dances with the likes of Cher and Ruth Bader Ginsburg"

now i won't give away this "reporter's" identity...cuz really...her legacy

and "integrity" is at stake apparently...H-O-W-E-V-E-R...fer visual purposes to this hard hitt'n story thru journalistic fantasy land...lets just call her "PELICAN"

this is the actual transcript between me and said "reporter"...

 via FB due to my simple freedom of speech

08/06/2015 15:26 

"just so you know, I'm deleting your rude comment."

08/06/2015 15:58

"just so you know...it's all PR fluff"

08/06/2015 15:58

 "Well, I wrote the article so I take offense to you publicly questioning my integrity. Please don't. If you have and issue with Richard (CUNT WEEDS), please send him a private message."

08/06/2015 16:01

"delete'n my comment is as humorous as that fairy tale yer try'n to sell to yer readers"

 

08/06/2015 16:36

"You can keep your rudeness to yourself."

08/06/2015 16:41

"you call it rudeness...i call it a comment to yer delusionally fabricated story"

"but i'm not the one try'n to win the Brian Williams reporter of the year award!"

and scene!

so there you have it kittens...the real story how it ALL really went down

all them years ago!

i look back and know that i have grown from this experience...however...

you fuck with a virgo bull...yer just ask'n fer my glittered horns!

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

ME & MRS. JONES pt. 3

picture it kittens...the year was 1998 and MISS CICCONE had ushered in 

a whole new hair color...a whole new religious cult of red string limp wristed gluten free kabbalah zombie's (that would only last until she dropped her next album before they would cut the string) and a whole new electronical beat with her hauntingly chilly somber hit "FROZEN" that was the 1st of many masterpieces off her 7th studio album "RAY OF LIGHT" which had swept the musical world away like some sensational synthesized tsunami at sea

Jack and Rose froze their collective asses off on a piece of plywood float'n on the ocean in the chilliest blockbuster of the year "TITANIC"

and i chilled out at Peetrinella's palace once a week with a couple of cocktails and a not so frozen pizza watch'n 4 ballsy...non woke...sexually infused women on the sexist sensational series "SEX AND THE CITY"

25 years later after 6 beyond brilliantly written seasons...2 very over the 

top movies and one reboot season (that was annoyingly "too woke" at times) already in the bag...the cosmo queens are back at it once again with their silver anniversary of the season 2 reboot of "AND JUST LIKE THAT" this week with a few sensational surprises added with the 1st bein the return of my fav-o-rit of Carrie's 60 some boyfriend's thru-out the series...Aidan Shaw

BUTT...look away 

if you don't wanna hear about the triumphant return of the holy grail of

the series...everyone's fav-o-rit unapologetic succulent damsel of the dicklickers...the fuck machine with the fancy Fendi bag...SAMANTHA JONES...though my Krystal balls tell me she only agreed to appear on the actual cliffhanger...off set...with none of the ladies who lunch around her (i'm sure fer bookoo bucks) however i say good fer her...she totally deserves it...i'll take SAMANTHA's saucy sass anyway i can

so now that that's outta the way...get yerself a ticket to the catch-up train

and lets go back a year to 1997 by click'n here fer pt. 1 and here fer pt. 2 and now back to my program

with literally only milliseconds to rearrange my entire thought process

or just walk off the fuck'n set all together...i was given the go ahead to burst thru the stage doors with a big smile on my face and some sass in my ass so that's exactly what i did and worked that stage like a hungry hooker on a 2 fer one special downtown on a late friday nite

after make'n my entrance and sashay'n my A double snakes clear across 

to the center of the stage...i noticed on the upper portion behind my seat were 2 judges on cheap look'n Ashley furniture bar stools..one bein some local radio host i guess who looked like RANDY JACKSON's illegitimate cousin from Ipanema and MONROE from 80's brain aneurysm humored sitcom "TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT" played by that tulip sniff'n JIM J BULLOCK

once JENNY had introduced me to the audience and proceeded to pay

me her paltry pleasantries after i sat down...me and DAVE would "exchange" our words that we were fed earlier with Dave absolutely stunn'n me by say'n that my co-workers were sick of me "come'n to work every day in drag" which literally i had only done once in my life when i won a $200 gift certificate at BUCA restaurant fer the hweenie costume contest with all the corporate big wig pigs as CHER fer the very 1st time in the "BELIEVE" look which include the headdress she wore in the video that i had handmade completely from scratch outta fiber optic tubagge...half a softball sized styrofoam ball...a bag of glitter and a glue gun (all fer under $3) which i might add wasn't even until a year after film'n my trainwreck of an episode and i might also add i had used my entire winn'ns on 7 of my co-workers fer a nite on the town...

well...i decided to opt outta the "staged" response the producers wanted poured outta my over drawn lips...instead i simply replied with a line from "ELVIRA MISTRESS OF THE DARK" movie "nice jacket...who shot the couch?" (which was completely lost on the lobotomized acid wash jeaned audience i might add)

i figered since i was fed the "talk to the hand...blah blah blah" bullshit

by the producer...i'm sure Dave was probably given the same feed'n as well so i just played along with it the best i could without come'n off as some deranged breakdown (the wanna PRODIGY kid was mercilessly crucified by the judges and the audience so of course the camera man hadda zoom in when he was gonged to hell and i could see him well'n up with the water works try'n his damndest not to break the dam on camera)

after the 1st break i was told to do a runway walk-off with the lame model

they had hired from shag-a-skank stripper emporium once we were back from break (since i was now apparently vy'n desperately to be the new CINDY CRAWFORD after all) so i played along with their shady charade and figered it'd be good tv since i knew my throat plunger was securely stapled to my back and once i made it to the center of the stage...i pulled a 360 and gave the audience an eyeful!

after our interview with JENNY was over...she had turned to the planet 

of the ostentatious audience members sitt'n beneath my presence (exactly where they belonged) and asked them who should get the make-over to which they cheered of course fer the siliconed "Ginger" wannabe and then fer me since we had the highest audience reaction and judge's scores 

so we were escorted off immediately and basically give'n a 15 minute make-over back stage while they fed ritalin filled bananas to the audience so they wouldn't attack us i'm guess'n when we returned

lemme just say how utterly traumatical this make-over experience was fer

lil ol' me...while the jovial spiced maxi pad sat in her make-up chair as they rearranged her DNA to look like some 80's mall rat...3 ostentatious ugnaughts stripped me down to my barely there dignity...1 pinned me into an oversized suit jacket and slacks combo with a complimentary blouse and neck tie from men's warehouse's 75% off rack to fit my then 29 inch waist...another ripped off my wig and colored my locks from elephant piss yellow that it was at the time to a mickey mousey brown...while the last one literally sand blasted my unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe make-up off and reshalacked my mug in all man make-up (i hadda fight with the fuck'n hot as hell make-up artist to include my beauty mark cuz it's been my security blanket since i was 16...though he said it made me look too...get this...feminine!)

AS IF!

15 minutes later i was back on stage in my rented pinned up penguin suit

once again bein' judged by the judges and the audience...with JENNY curiously ask'n me "you look good in that look MATTRESS...do you even own a suit?" to which i so impishly replied "only if i go to a funeral!" and JIM J BULLOCK blurted out "you should wear suits more often!" as the camera man called it a wrap and we all walked off stage left

Jim tried his best copacabana moves on me backstage and though i'm 

sure he still had some connections he could connect me to in hollywierd (were his moves successful) be that as it may i was no one's showgirl with yellow feathers in my hair even if my dress was cut way down to there

we were told we would get a phone message when our episode would air 

as we collected our belong'ns and headed back to O'hare wait'n patiently fer our flight to take off

that halloweenie i couldn't decide what to wear to the bars so at the last

minute i decided to breathe life back into my “iconic” look and threw back on my naughty nurse outfit once again and as i wait patiently outside the Slutoon to get inside someone's mind...a guy dressed as a deranged easter bunny who was on a party bus that was stuck in downtown hweenie traffic...leaned out the window and yelled "hey ain't you the hot nurse from THE JENNY JONES SHOW? you were fuck'n awesome on it!" 

2 weeks later i got a call from the producers inform'n me that my sassy

appearance on the show got good feedback and was asked to return fer another episode...however...i decided that my dignity was worth way more than just a $50 bar tab...greet'ns from the park'n lot welcome wagon and a free limo ride to and from the studio...so that would be the last time my perforated panties would ever prance on another tacky talk show stage ever again...

now GET OFF MY DRESS!