the BLACK PLAGUE

just when you thought all those blood suck'n fang banger's and brain dead connoisseurs of no conscience were gone until the next hallowed season...

oh...kittens...i ain't talk'n about Nosferatu or the Live'n Dead

no...i'm talk'n about those brain dead blood suck'n GOP'ers 

there is yet another more ruthless...and frankly...a more devastate'n evil... 

that once destroyed millions from Europe to Russia to the Middle East in the 14th century known simply as the Black Plague

thought to have been completely eradicated over a 100 years later...has unfortunately been resurrected into the 21st century...and has maimed and caused way more devastation by kill'n millions of consumers kindness's...

known simply as BLACK FRIDAY!

this time honored tradition started in 1961 in the city of brotherly love...at midnite...as these everyday...mostly kind consumers...who simply wished to fulfill their everyday lives and their households while save'n a couple a benjamins on the latest and greatest technological wizardly after a very deliciously fullfill'n sit down dinner with the entire family...IS NO MORE!!!

as the turkey...ambrosia salad and candied yams just barely have time to settle in their stomachs...the beast inside them all...will awaken once again and turn them into these rabidly unconscious parasitic patrons of gizmos and gadgets to consume their miserable existence...before Tommy even has time to shove the leftover cranberry sauce down lil Timmy's trousers...or Tammy has time to finger the fix'ns again in the frigid air box 

thanx to the all mightyness of corporate greed...these salivary savages want'n the best deal...no longer have to wait til the stroke of midnite any longer to purchase the "MUST!HAVE!NOW!" crap off the latest assembly runway line carefully crafted by lil Ping Ming...Ding A. Ling...Ah So and Kung Po...so you...the shopp'n fucktard...can save some measly benjamins...what would take their entire family work'n around the clock...a lifetime to make...as the madness begins at 8pm on turkey day...and in some cases EVEN SOONER!!!

SAY IT ISN'T SO!...are the weather reports out yet? dear lord what will i wear? is the "DUCK DYNASTY" season 1 even gonna be on s-a-l-e? someone! ANYONE! PUHLEEZ!...OH GOD...thou for art have forsaken me...i beg of you to have mercy on my wretched whorish selfish lil soul and give me the strength to make it thru this madness...but just in case...Bobby Marie and Betty Andy....fetch me my pocket kitchen cattle prod and shopp'n shank!

as the family gathers together in dad's "secret room" behind the staircase the babysitter finishes gett'n dressed while dad lays out the blue prints to each and every store section with the best sales within a 5 mile radius of their home...so they can accumulate the best buys fer their buck...and hands everyone a walkie talkie to alert everyone of any pop-up sales

dressed in their best pressed camouflage...so the bodies are easily identified in case they don't make it out alive...mom makes sure to pack enough liquid replenishments fer everyone so they can hit the sales...

and hit'em hard...pile'n into their hell on wheels...dad completely fergett'n to empty grama's colostomy bag so she can o.d. on a Matlock marathon and her box of sparklin' Franzia in peace...the family burns rubber to the first destination of happy helpers at Wally World on the "tour of discount destruction" 

Bobby Marie teams up with mom and hit the electronics...as Betty Andy and dad try to find the perfect gift to keep mom's trap shut come xmas morn'n

"daddy deez are pritty...and mommy's always say'n how cood her feet are." Betty Andy exclaims "how 'bout we git her some of deese"...dad distracted by an income'n text says "wha? huh? yea sure...here's my card...sorry kitten...daddy's gotta take this call...it's the babysitter  office what'n me to come in"

over to mom and Bobby Susan...crouched down and hunt'n like unbathed mongolian savages in the jungle...look'n fer the best deals at the bottom...

when Bobby's eye's lite up like a christmas tree...

"oh mommy P-U-H-L-E-E-E-E-Z! CAN-I-CAN-I-CAN-I?...i will do ALL my chores fer the rest of my life and stop play'n with Betty Andy's power saw and ratchet set" Bobby Marie whimpered

like a hooker to heroin...mom knew Bobby was hooked...and she would never here the end of it...so she caved into Bobby's desires and gave him some extra cash she had earned in the back park'n lot earlier but told Bobby to never tell dad until he was old enough to move outta the house

and hour later...extremely exhausted after mom accidentally prodded Bobby's behind...from behind...while try'n to body slam the one eyed paraplegic fer the last garage door sized 3D HD plasma tv...which...in turn...
caused Bobby to involuntary impale mom's left breast implant with his shopp'n shank...they decided they deserved a much needed break today...

so off to the Golden Arches they went...

undaunted by the lack luster service with their corporately forced smiles...the 2 ordered the double stacked  coronary burger with 2 slices of orange colored drainage squares...large french coma induced fries...a sugary coated crusty cardboard pouch filled with pipe'n hot apple flavored sludge and a refresh'n 2 liter cup of diet coke to wash it all down...
(both very conscious of their caloric intake)

as they inhaled their happy tumor meal...off in the distance...they heard the familiar clang clang clang come'n from some homeless troll work'n fer table scraps and a warm bed to rest their ache'n head from the freeze'n cold...so they tallied up their receipts and carefully deducted 10% from their save'ns...and decided to donate to the red bucket charity that has been a time honored tradition that help's ALL without ANY sorta question or conditions...which always makes them feel warm and fuzzy inside know'n that they are part of the anti-bacterial self-sinn'n and grinn'n society 

3 hrs later...after pack'n the caravan with all of their preciously purchased
treasured belong'ns  crap...dad had decided to make one more final stop...

to stock up on a year's supply of head cheese...a vat of mayonnaise...a crate of reprocessed meats and bleached flavor crackers...and a barrel of spermicidal jam

but instead dad was greeted with the most perplex'n sign of all...

"sorry but we're closed...enjoy your holiday"

from the top of his lungs...dad whaled out...

 "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIIIIIT?...it's my one fuck'n day off...and i had a whole weekend planned with my "buddies" at the cabin"

"Harold...watch yer mouth...the kids" Dureen said sternly

"WHADIDYASAYBITCH?...you want me to fry ya up another back hand sammich to eat today?" 

"KIDS...git odda the car! mommie needs to remind daddy that his "secret room" also has "secret" camera's"

40 minutes later...as the snow flakes began to dance like fall'n pirouettes against the navy blue sky...Harold and Dureen came to an "understand'n" as Bobby Marie and Betty Andy pleaded to be let back into the car...so mom unlocked the doors and the kids piled back in and homeward bound they went

as the last shopping bag was brought into the garage...the family reflected on the events of the day as they went off to their own miserable rooms...

Bobby Marie was thankful that his secret was safe with mom...fer now 

Betty Andy was thankful she got to finish putt'n up the panel'n in her bedroom

dad was thankful the "help" stuck around

mom was thankful she could still see outta one eye as she poured herself into a merlot coma decide'n what to do next

and grama...well...no one really heard a peep outta grama all nite long

the moral of this mess...be thankful you have yer health...some don't...

don't let corporate market'n turn you into ax weild'n homicidal maniacs

now get off my dress!

BUFF ~n~ PUFF

i was recently reminded…a while back…

that "str8 act’n and appear’n" is the new black!

 (how dr. suess of me and i wasn’t even try’n…i swear)

by that…i don’t mean that african american…african european…

african asian or african african (did i leave anybody out?) non heterosexual men are the latest in relationship accessories…

hot mixed interracial relationships have been around...

since Tom and Helen Willis of the "Jefferson’s"

(that was not meant to be in any way…shape or form…single’n out any ethnicity of any part of the universe)

i am not a complete socially reclusive retard…but nor am i a PC'r

i’ve seen Prince like 3 times live...and...

own almost all of Tina Turner’s musical history 

(stay with me kittens…i will make my point…eventually)

no…what i speakith of…is far more taboo…a rare hybrid sub culture of...

the non heterosexuals who try and pass themselves off as “STR8”...
by act’n and appear’n in a way publicly that is perceived by others that they have the ability to completely fool members of their own naturally born non heterosexual race as well as those of the naturally born non homosexual race…just to prove to their narcissistic riddled ego their inability to deal with themselves as a mo’

and in their feebly delusional mind…they also believe they can…get this…

sexually turn a non homosexual into a non heterosexual…and that THAT would then be their greatest accomplishment to their entire existence

well i’m hear to tell ya…ya ain’t fool’n no one mary mary on the contrary…

let’s keep the "act’n" for the professionally trained....oh kaaaay gurlfriend!

there are many theories of how this sub culture of no-no homo's derived :

too much fake bake’n with a spray tan before goin’ to the beach or on some tropical island vacation…

Miller beer…

the RAM truck 

(fer overcompensational purposes due to their "shortcumm'n" i'm sure) 

watch’n all 4 seasons of "PRISON BREAK" on a loop 

(one word…WENTWORTH MILLER…meeeouch!)

these are just a few suggestions…there are a merried of theories out there

hold up…now before you grab yer picket signs…coon dog and hop in yer monster truck (and by that i mean…work-out purse…pekineses and pontiac grand prix)…i am not suggest’n in the slightest that some of you non heterosexuals out there cruise’n around along the informational highway on

yer daily 5 minute break from adam4adam…gaydar…grinder…manc*nt...
scruff...jak'd...or whichever social site you choose to cruise for the latest has-been or been-had by half the population fer some dimestore dick…are not just being yerself as you would...regardless of who was/wasn’t present

a quick hiccup…for those right wing’n…apocalyptic fear’n…anti-bacterial soap’n…leave-it-to-beaver thinkers who think i or anyone of my naturally born non heterosexual race would CHOOSE to live this way…ummm ya...

pick a finger!

think about it…if we didn’t have hetero’s…we wouldn’t have homo’s…

if we didn’t have homo’s…we wouldn’t have poppers…

if we didn’t have poppers…we wouldn’t have brain damage…

and if we didn’t have brain damage…i’d be the only one read'n this right now!

now…where was i?...oh yes...

no...i am merely speak’n to the trend of non heterosexuals known as...

the socially retarded…chemically dependent…emotionally unavailable...self-loath’n…narcissistically rare mo’…otherwise known as the “muscle mary”

in the simplest of terms…a “muscle mary” consists of the follw'n...

high maintenance groom’n for a minimum of an hour in front of their bathroom mirror…and decide'n which undergarment looks best on them to take that "all natural" non posed selfie to update their profile on 

www.peniledenial.com...

before head’n to the gym…for another hour of check’n themselves out in the locker room mirror (and who’s check’n them out) and squeeze in enough time to take that "all natural" non posed selfie to update their profile on www.poundmetilthesunormecumup.com…

then do the usual work-out routine til they break a sweat from check’n themselves out on the gym floor mirror (and who was check’n them out)…pop into the steam room to see what they're serve’n at the cock buffet…

then publicly pretend they have no inclination of someone’s existence…because of the other person’s acceptance of who they are…what they do for a live’n…or how they may choose to dress themselves…and whether or not last season’s Prada bag falls outta their mouth every time they open it and their comfortness level around others in public…or that there is any remote interest in said person…

but secretly are the first ones to have their feet stapled to the bedroom ceil’n before you get the front door closed on any random friday nite!

we hate to be judged…but let’s face it…we all have played judge…jury and prostituted for our acceptance to someone we found remotely interest'n at a glance at some point in our life

oops…may have to back-up on that one there…if yer not me (and why would you be) i can sense yer confusional delay…so grab a ticket and hop aboard the catch-up train and i’ll take ya there…in a minute or so

i am and have always been…mostly…comfortable in my natural born non heterosexual body and mind (though being a guinea pig for those governmental drug studies back in ’93 altered things…just a lil bit)

i used to be the skinny minny that would get shunned by the hideously delicious muscle mary flock corral’n around in circles any  downtown non heterosexual entertainment establishments...in my temporary town...

until one day i joined a gym for personal and mental growth...and all of a sudden the gates flew open…i was accepted as one of the flock...

at first i felt like i had made a bad judgment in judge’n the judgers…then i realized…when it was discovered time and time again thru word of mouth...

within the flock...that i was indeed the unintentionally internationally unknown perform’n illusionist of my own universe...and durty gurl of the Minne-Apple...KRYSTAL KLEER…i would be shunned once again by the flock in public or on-line…though privately…via text or any on-line meat market...more than a handful would prostitute themselves for my “ATTENTION” (i’m talk’n about the “basement meat”)

too be fair…money was never exchanged…cocktails…cuisine and/or barely there conversations…yes...but never any benjamins!

why did i care what they thought?...why does anyone care what they think?...they don’t! (it’s hurts their brain too much to think…what…with their balls take’n up so much space) so in conclusion to erase any confusion...

they are not trophies…but a testament to the torment we all felt as an awkward teenager on any given playground try’n to fit in

some were a friend…but that’s come to an end

they’re just an illusion…filled with sadness and confusion

i’m a buff ‘n’puff…with ALOTTA stuff

they're just a mess…so get off my dress!