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!

TAKEN TO THE PEA PATCH pt.2

picture it kittens...it's 1997 and everything just seemed to go from bad to 

deteriorate'n disastrously...from the people's princess's fairy tale life gett'n snuffed out in an instant zoom'n away from the paparazzi thru the pont de l'alma tunnel in Paris that she herself had foreshadowed after her divorce

bein unable to escape the gravitational pull of MISS DION's sappy song that just kept hemorrhage'n on and on fer 16 weeks at #1 til i wanted to wrap a glimmery shimmery Harry Winston cinder block around her neck and toss her into the atlantic myself

which was the catalyst to keep a movie about some ill prepared boat afloat at the box office fer 15 weeks and just like the movie my sanity was break'n apart at titanic proportions...click here fer pt. 1

though we exchanged words in his truck afterwards on the way home

we managed to move past the pettiness of it all until i was invited to his friends party weeks later and was introduced to his X maxi pad which i had zero intentions of stroke'n the fires of contempt again though i got the distinct impression he wanted me in a rematch with her of which i politely declined and left without incident once i realized i had become a bit tuned up and was used as his pawn

the next few months would become increase'nly frustrate'n fer me cuz

my biological clock was tick'n away since we had been sleep'n together on the same futon after i had moved in...he in his crisp bvd's and me in my holly hobby nite gown with the butt cut out...nonetheless we never once did the hokie pokie we just turned ourselves around as we drifted off to snoreville the entire time even though he gave me every indication in my head that that's where it was goin cuz i had told him up front before move'n in that i no longer desired to live with another roommate situation after my past disasters nonetheless with that said it would take rehearse'n the lyrics "you only see what your eyes want to see...how can life be what you want it to be...you're frozen when your hearts not open" to MADONNA's haunt'n hit "FROZEN" that i would perform at some seedy homo nite in the warehouse district to give me the wake-up call i so desperately needed

eventually i would move myself outta his bed into my own posturepedic  

and would become some lonely LUKA live'n on his 2nd floor all cuz his friends started give'n him grief about me always answer'n the phone that was next to my side of the futon or have'n me as his plus one when we met up with them and as i very much missed my bi-weekly paychecks...i was no longer fond of live'n with this reclusive bi-lateral space case i had give'n up my independence for and learned to deal with the present sticky situation i put myself into the best way i could fer the time bein' that is until one day i was served with papers by some unfuckable process server

oh H-E-double hockey stix NO!

my once midnite cowboy was now turn'n into some treasonous tacky tick

try'na shake me down fer roughly $1900 which was akin to the 9 months back rent in his eyes even after E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G i had done fer him all cuz apparently i wouldn't bow down to some fairly attractive maxi pad he brought up to introduce to me one nite which completely blind sided me before they would go off with their muskrat love date and eventually we would come to the crossroads with curse words with no one back'n down 

and i was more than ready to take a stand on the stand!

BUTT it ain't over...oh no!

i was now without any income completely and had no plans of sell'n off

the little of my possessions i had acquired thru-out my stay and after everything i've gone thru before i've learned how to get myself outta "tricky/sticky" situations to survive so this situation was no different though with inflation on the rise so was i

apparently a public perp walk to the guillotine stalls were no longer legal 

durin' this period in time so i decided before the shit would eventually hit the proverbial fan that i would throw my very 1st murder mystery party of which he was not invited to in order to get other more non death penalty options from my invitees

over a lovely bowl of potato soup prepared by my lovely aunt Ellen along with some adult refreshments and other nibbley's

about 2 months later it would be the 1st time we would see each other 

again face to face however this time in a court room instead of his bedroom and though i had no high priced Johnny Cochrane to get me off i wasn't about to let him get off with a pay day from my empty pig bank either so after 2 pow wows with a mediator per his request...the mediator of course tell'n me i was gonna loose this case each time if i didn't settle outta court as he would shave a measly $100 off the top each time we gathered to chat in the conference room cuz he said that i was not a battered nor a pregnant women...a minority nor an environmentally delayed adult...HA! lawyers and their hocus pocus dialogue  

i basically told this delusional diaphragm that i had absolutely zero

intentions of settle'n outta court and that i would have the last word of which i did after we went before the magistrate...the plaintiff got to speak first and lay out his case that i have to admit seemed quite compell'n if he hadn't left out one very specific detail...then the judge gave me the floor to speak to my defense and i basically said "well here's the thing Judy...may i call you Judy? i'm enjoy'n that doily wrapped around yer tender throat...i'm think'n about bein you fer halloween next year but here's the thing...we met at my place of work...he asked me out then to move in with him a couple months later and we slept in the same bed fer roughly 6 months without doin any matrimonial polka dance so we were pretty much in a common unlawful awful marriage (at the time) and with that i won my case without have'n to give him a damn dime though i was only give'n a week to move from the premises instead of the 2 weeks that i had requested

not a word was spoken as we enter the elevator together and trust me that was the most uncomfortable ride in the history of not ever ride'n him

luckily it would only take me a week to figer out my new live'n situation 

thanx a mill times over to my charismatically infectious godmotherly aunt who was my save'n grace that had just purchased a condo in the burbs and offered me free live'n quarters in her biz a few blocks away from my tension trap in exchange fer a few weekends a month of work to cover the kitchen and clean'n duties cuz she was irritated that her other "biz partners" rarely would lend a help'n hand so her and my uncle could get outta dodge of which i was more than happy to oblige and it worked out perfectly til the biz closed it's doors fer good 4 years later

move'n day had arrived and the defendant had already left to work

fer the day so i contacted my brother who helped me move what little i had with me to my new location and once i had completed my usual OCD checklist fer the 100th time...lock'n the front door behind me and place'n the keys in the mail box along with a lil cynical note of encouragement "have a nice life" scratched in pen on a used paper towel i noticed my grama's vintage property that i now owned was no where to be seen in my brother's car 

i knew he must've hidden it somewhere in the bowels of his fortress 

when i wasn't look'n which was sorta tricky now since i knew his portion of the house was booby trapped with trip alarms but no matter how i'll be damned if he was gonna keep this as his gift without purchase...luckily fer me i had remembered and hoped he hadn't changed the alarm code as time was tick'n out before he would soon be home from his work day

i really didn't need to add a trespass'n charge to any future documentary about this situation cuz it wouldn't make me look so sympathetical but more diabolical 

after a frantic sweep thru the entire house i was about to loose my ever 

love'n shit that is until i finally found it buried underneath the basement steps behind a bunch of his paint cans which was obviously premeditated on his part so i grabbed the sew'n machine and escaped without any paralyze'n incident

it would be roughly 15 years before i would run into my built bicyclops

again at my new gym and by now his high lights had become low lights much like his personality however his evil grin had still remained as we temporarily crossed eyes as i was doin my cross fit...i had ridden my bitter psyche of all that we once were years ago nonetheless i had no reason to research a friendship ever again and also learned to N-E-V-E-R E-V-E-R get romantically involved in ANY other teeter totter biways along the highways (though that don't mean i haven't tip toed thru their 2 lips fer a lil bit of lactation from time to time)

now GET OFF MY DRESS! 

a POWER TRIP!

ever since the beginn'n of time...we...as a society...have been ostracized 

and frowned up by fellow fucktwats with snobbish attitudes who think their shit smells like a garden of earthly delights due to the fact of the monetary class system which they belong to...i mean a prefect example dates back to the stone ages when Betty and Wilma would taunt their fellow neighborhood cave dwellers...cook'n bronto burgers fer their signifigant others...in the latest frocks straight off the runways of the MuuKee MuuKee collection durin' Bedrock's fashion week

hundreds of years would pass and you would think that society would'a

changed their attitude...like they changed their bran intake...towards those less fortunate than themselves and help out their fellow man...but proof came durin' the sink'n of the titanic when those choke'n on their nausiate'n nepotism while bein' served champagne and saltines smothered in cavier...boarded the limited life rafts while their fellow food stampers floated like fish'n bobbers...hopelessy wait'n fer a rescue boat that would never come...much like the last emotionally crippled cock i met 

by the 1980's...the financial gap couldn't have been any further apart

thanx in part to the phony "trickle down effect" that was nothin short of a financial trick fer most that were affected by the posh "policies" put in place by Mr. AIDS Deny'n-Jelly Bean Junk'n-Dementia Dickwad 1981...til the end of the decade

now don't get me wrong...i was ALL about desperately yearn'n to live the opulent lifestyles of the rich and bloated ego riddled affluent folk that were

famously featured every week by that lecherously drunk manatee Mr. Leach...but i knew my paper route wasn't gonna cut it...even though i thought i had started a minature empire by hire'n 3 of my sibs to help deliver the 360 winona shopper papers once a week at $1 per every section that consisted roughly of 90 customers...then built a mini market in my closet and resold them stuff i would find around the house fer exactly a dollar (with a fully enforced no return policy)

fast forward to the year 2000...when i was out enjoy'n a bevy of adult 

beverages with a bunch of my not so close but pleasantly appall’n anally inclined stalkers at some local non heterosexual water'n hole...when they all collectively decided to upgrade our surround'ns and venture to a more prestigious atmosphere so we ended up at one of the oldest colostomitic locations in town

as we waited patiently outside...under the very hot steamy minnesota sun

this particular day...completely parched...anxiously crave'n a river of mind erase'n liquid replenishments...a friend happened to mention to me that i would most likely not be allowed into the premises without first remove'n my follically challenged scalp accessory and trust me...i was not about to have any part of this sharade

that would be like General Veers demand'n Vader to remove his helmet when speak'n to him...it just ain't happen'n!

now listen...i'm all fer follow'n rules and regulations to establishments of a 

 certain "grandeur" (if you will) when occupy'n their premises fer a period of time...BUTT (and you know there always is one) i will not be subjected to the "fashion police" at the front door...who might as well have been in berkinstocks...a barfy floral peek-a-boob blouse and a pair of hysterectomy tight jeans...

but sure as shit...a minute later Miss poly blend would return to inform me that baseball caps were unfortunately not part of their "dress code" with no other explanation

well...i was NOT about to remove my cap without some form of sun 

protection even if i would be seated inside the restaurant...i am thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe after all...and unfortunately my burka was at the cleaners...plus there would've been a ring of indentation around my noggin since i wrap it around my scalp so tight it cuts off any feel'ns of sympathetical emotions towards anyone...

so i simply asked the simple poly blender "i get it...but do you tell ALL yer cancer patients to remove their wigs?" with a perplexed look on her face...she replied..."i'm sorry...let me ask the manager and i'll be right back"

suddenly...my friend burst out in his best center square cackle...

completely blown away that i would have the audacity to say that i had cancer to the front door fraulein...to which i simply replied..."i merely suggested...i never implied that i personally had cancer!" it's not as if my baseball cap was the size of a water buffalo and was gonna obstruct anyone's view in this over priced snobbish eatery

minutes later...the fashion popo grabbed a couple menus and said that i

was give'n the all clear by management to dine in their establishment with my large party of AA drop-outs so she seated us in the back near the kitchen as to not cause any sorta tension with the rest of the patrons no doubt...FINE...no prob!

after take'n our order...i happened to notice that the colostomy bag that

was marinate'n in ben-gay and formaldehyde dressed in her fake pearls and false teeth sitt'n across from our booth that was within ear distance of myself...was act'n like some pissed off potty trainer and stopped our waitress as she was head'n to the kitchen...inform'n her that there was a young gentleman in a cap that shant belong here...to which the waitress simply replied "he has cancer!"

my money is just as green as the next...and i will not be judged by anyone

as long as i practice proper hygiene and regularly wash my dungarees...i know all to well how to play these lil reindeer games cuz trust me...this ain't my first time at the rodeo kittens...

now GET OFF MY DRESS!