Monday, February 24, 2014

dream a little fuck'n dream

so there i was...dressed in my best pressed moo moo...
just a lazy saturday afternoon...with nothin' better to do but get everything done i couldn't get done durin' the week...like groceries...slap the ol' pickle tickler around fer couple minutes...target run fer ass wipe...
and don't ferget to poop!

instead i opted to hitch hike along the informational highway and complain to the electronical world we've created fer ourselves known as FB
 (side note...to the delusionally perverted out there...remember when FB used to mean "fuck buddies"?)

but where was i?...oh yea...

so i sign into FB and made thee 1st earth shatter'n post about how miserable life is cuz it's so fuck'n cold out here and i can't find nothin' to do accept check my post every 10 minutes to see how many people "liked" my post and how many had made a sympathetical comment to my plight...so i
could feel alot better about my miserable self...3 hrs or so would pass before i would finally scrape my ass outta bed and crawl into the kitchen to eat some science project that was grow'n in my frigid box...cuz well...i was too lazy to remember i told myself to get groceries the nite before...1st thing in the morn'n...

so to calm my uncontrollable urge to make another utterly and total...
 pathetically sympathetical post...i decided i needed somethin' to wash down the science project i mistakenly swallowed and since i'm pretty sure orange juice should actually be the color of orange...i decided to grab my ice pick...throw on my parka and go on an expedition into my freezer to see if there was any thing that i could rescue...and too my surprise i found buried under a foot of freezer burn...a 1/5th bottle of pomegranate Smirnoff my friend Greta left behind when we had a camp out in my live'n room last summer
so i made myself a shitty pomegranate and stale unfizzy seltzer water cocktail...poured in some MN misery...a splash of resentfulness that i didn't win the POWERBALL...a pinch of the terribly untolerable 2's and Dr. Kevorkian's number...and i had made the perfect pick-me-up to go along with my shitty outlook on the day

after i choked down my swill...i decided to make some calls...
but the suicide hotline decided to put me on hold!

GREAT!

luckily fer me though... there's only a sheet of solid ice between me and the store and the weather was a balmy 5 degree's above frostbite...and the buses were runn'n their usual 20 minutes behind their actual posted times...otherwise i would've been a complete bitch about the current state...
 i was in!...i had 2 choices...either have a complete meltdown...which actually might have helped clear the fuck'n sidewalks of the lazy fuckers that lived next door so i didn't have to climb over the hills of HOTH...then i remembered...i didn't have the power to breath fire...and since my tauntaun wasn't insured...i could just keep on course...so i did...of course...and hopped aboard the metro transit 45 minutes later

oh joy!

once i reached my destination...everything in the past 4 hours that felt like heavy chains on my chest...were now no longer aggravate'n me as i stripped off my layers of regret and threw away my bitch blouse to feel comfortable...that is until i was hunted down by some store greeter...
"SIR...i need to see yer I.D!"

s-e-r-i-o-u-s-l-y...after what i just gone thru to get here...I...
thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...is bein' asked fer I.D. to shop fer some groceries?

na-uuh...she DID NOT just say that to ME!

and once again i hear her say... "SIR...i need to see yer I.D!"
ummm...no...i think what you need Bessie is a good dietitian and that trough yer use'n as a kitchen table take'n away immediately...(i was think'n it only kittens...i have plenty of pleasantly plumpers i consider my closest friends)...but i didn't wanna argue...so i handed her my I.D. without any back hand comments...though i had plenty lined up!

as i walked around fill'n up my cart with anything that would calm...
the restless natives beat'n the hunger drums in the pit of my stomach...i wondered...waid'a'minute!...why did i give her my I.D.?...so i marched up to customer service to speak with the mgr on duty

out walks this hefty hideaway gal...who wasn't really hide'n anything...
 so i explained to her why was it i needed to give my I.D. to the bloated stegosaurus with the bad bi-leveled oglivie home perm greet'n people at the front door...and she calmly said in her best Bea Arthur voice that she shouldn't have
i'm think'n ok...this deep fried trough tail gator spotted me as thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe and just wanted proof to post on her FB page...i get it!
(it's so hard to be me sometimes!)

ummm...i don't think so...the gloves of reason'n were off

the manager got on the loud speaker and said politely...
"Martha please come to the customer service desk"

yer kidd'n...as in Martha Dumptruck?...i was think'n of a merried of other names...but Martha worked fine!

after Mrs. Dumptruck explained in that typical phoney corporate response as to why she took my I.D. to her manager...she had pulled it out from her tent pockets and handed it over to Bea

Bea looked at it once...looked at me...then held the I.D. closer to her face and looked closer at my face...then all of a sudden they both started smirk'n til they both broke out in complete laughter point'n their claws at me...HUH?
ARE YOU FUCK'N KIDD'N ME WITH THIS?

well i usually hold back my mouth dam...but i'll be damned at this point...
i was gonna let em have it with both barrels...so i grabbed the loud speaker and said..."shoppers...today's blue light special is in customer service...but they ain't so blue...and they most DEFINITELY ain't so light...
but they sure are purdy special...so you'll have to read to 'em r-e-a-l slow...
come gaze at these 2 backward barn yard Miss Piggy mutha fuckers...but please refrain from feed'n them as they hadn't had their feed'n yet today...and you might just become their main course"

i grabbed my I.D. and ran out the door into the freeze'n cold once again...
without any mouth water'n morsels to fill my fuck'n gut...though i wanted to gut anyone that crossed me now cuz my mouth was as dry as the Tatooine desert and my breath was seethe'n like a rage'n bi-polar monkey slut in sunday school 

then i woke up

WTF...it was all just a dream?....eh!...time to make some breakfast...
as i opened the fridge...i noticed nothin' but some strawberries wrapped in last season's faux fur

OK!...this ain't happen'n...so you betta get off my dress!













Monday, February 17, 2014

HAIL MARY fer the defense!

oh the roar'n 1920's... what a year it was...
with Lillian Gish and Rudolph Valentino 
as the biggest movie stars without have'n to say a word

on jan 29th 1920...a man named Walt Disney gets hired at KC Slide Co...
to begin his artistic endeavors at 40 benjamins a week

on may 16th that same year...the Vatican canonizes Joan of Arc...
as a saint fer all her hard work...
although she was burned at the stake almost 500 years early fer heresy
(some people get too damn touchy sometimes)

by next month on june 13th...children were no longer a loud...
to be mailed to their nana's house...just to save a couple of bucks fer their moonshine
(ummmm...dah!)

and later that year on sept 17th...in the city of Canton Ohio...
the National Football League was formed to become one of some of America's fav-o-rit pastimes
just like grannies homemade apple slop suffocate'n in a flaky crust...
but personally...i'd rather be play'n a different ball game myself...
but i digress

flash forward to the year 2014...
where you can't get certain "celebs" to shut their trap

cartoons are no longer drawn...but created by a click of a mouse...make'n millions

these 2 CASPER crusade'n clowns will receive their "sainthood"

babies are now finally send'n their own mail

and NOW...this footballer is make'n waves...no...not cuz he's a tall cup of hot chocolate (and there's no deny'n that...PERIOD!) and a top pick fer the NFL...he just happens to be...oh dear CHER...the horror of it all...come...gather 'round kittens...he's...he's...
HE'S a NON HETEROSEXUAL!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

how can this happen?...football is MAN'S MAN sport...i mean...
those tight pants...

those enormous shoulder pads

confine'n the family jewels in underwear with the butt cut out

and topp'n the whole look out with a match'n...protectively manly...sun hat

grabb'n fer balls underneath their buddies meaty thighs...
ummm NO...nutt'n NON HETEROSEXUAL about that...AT ALL!

fer anyone watch'n and think'n football is NOT non heterosexual...
ummm ya...lemme break it down fer ya!

tight end...split end...illegal touch'n...penetrate'n the defense?
ain't gotta tell me twice...sounds like a total verbal top to me 
(trust me...i speak from experience)

want me to go on?...OOOKAY FINE!

eligible receiver...hot receiver...open receiver...wide receiver?
coooome on...definitely a complete submissive pussy boy bottom 
(trust me...i speak from experience)

and last but most definitely not my least fav-o-rit...fantasy league? 
(sorry there was no cookie equivalent to this one...deal!)
well that's just a bus stop away from hookerville...just make sure ya got yer prophylactics and enough spermicidal jams and jellies to go around!

i could go on...but i think yea get my drift on the draft...comprende kitten?

so it really does have NOTHIN' to do with the fact that Michael Sam is an open non heterosexual and the one of the top picks fer the NFL...since the non heterosexuals have ALWAYS been there since the game began...

it's not that Micheal's try'na shove anything down yer throat by come'n out...like some might suggest...but imagine yerself in a locker room...

those that condemn Michael or ANYONE...be it in the public eye or in private with family and friends...that come out...do it to educate everyone...that NOT EVERYONE is into the same thing between the sheets...but they can still do the SAME THINGS T-O-G-E-T-H-E-R!

throw'n yer belief system into the mix is a complete asinine waste of time...cuz seriously...those hard core cherry pick'n CASPER crusader's that do...practice'n that religion of eat'n the body and blood of some ghost from yer color'n book every sunday...ummm...yer not really a faithful follower...
yer more like a vampirilic cannibal if ya wanna break it all down!

it's YER BELIEF YOU CHOSE...you WERE NOT born with it!..you don't want anymore non heterosexuals roam'n the earth play'n in yer "manly man" sports...then the only person you can blame...IS YOU! (that is if yer of the vampirilic cannibal non homosexual nature) cuz they can't be here...
without 2 of you!

ok...time fer me to get off my bedazzled milk crate...now get off my dress!

Monday, February 10, 2014

bleed'n hearts club

gooie gushie gobs of love wrapped up in a 2 hr tour...
make you feel lucky to be with the one yer with...thanx in part to flix like these

beautiful beats of heart thump'n poetry...turn'n even the hardest cynic...
into the most love struck critic...thanx to singers like these

well...i'm hear to tell ya kittens...it's all just a pile of steamy crap!

i think the Queen of Hearts said it best when she said...
"OFF WITH THEIR HEAD!"

though this may be the week for chocolate nibbleys...long stem roses...
and cheap knock off charms shoved in a tiffany box...it ain't ALL flutter'n hearts fer everyone

love...much like the latest LADY BLAH BLAH cd and water slide...
is a complete waste of time!

so why not be a head of the game this year and save yer bejamins...
try'n to snag that "special someone"...and just settle fer somethin' special you can enjoy...like a bottle of yer fav-o-rit tekilla...torn apart tunage and terribly classic heart break'n flix to remind yerself...yer better off without them...
 plus it's alot cheaper than kick'n back on some couch try'n to decipher where you went wrong

no one sung it better...than the queen of all heartaches...

don't fret oatmeal generation...though ya may not know real heartache...
unless it comes in the form of a downloadable ap...i'm sure most of you broken bitches felt the slings and arrows country's saccrinated sweetheart Taylor Swift shot out with her hit "picture to burn"

country ain't yer cup of tea?...then why not try some tea and crumpets...
with this classic 80's blow torch song from Eurythmics..."you hurt me (and i hate you)"

rock out yer hatred and disgust with that fucktard...
in yer fanciest asymmetrical leotard and cool blue cat eyes to Miss Benatar's anthem "little to late"

remind yerself they were nothin' but shit on a stick...
with Kelly Clarkson's smash that asshole's heart into a thousand pieces hit "never again"

if these melodic melodies of madness still ain't gett'n that thorn in yer side...
outta yer head...perhaps somethin' on the boob tube will do the trick...like the Mistress of the Dark once said "revenge is better than christmas"

nothin' says "i love you" now get the fuck outta my life more...
than the holiday heart break'n classic "Thelma and Louise" about 2 women who've had enough of their stale mate life...set out on a adventure they'll never ferget...though the end'n scene needs to be recreated in real life...
by have'n these 2 baboons behind the wheel of that thunderbird classic...dont'cha think?

if that don't do it fer ya...try popp'n in this retold 80's heart warmer...
cross yer heart and hope they'll die...cuz it don't get any better than give'n it to em up close and personal in a gas mask

rehabers rejoice...cuz there's even one fer the junkie lovers to understand...
starr'n the brilliant Gary Oldman as the ruined rocker Sid Vicious from the punk band "THE SEX PISTOLS" ...torn between his 2 lovers...his heroine...and his heroin...and Chloe Webb as the annoy'nly whiney narcotic push'n heroine Nancy Spungen...Courtney Love of "HOLE" fame...makes an appearance as Gretchen...one of their BIG APPLE junkie friends

fer those bruised and battered and think they don't matter...
you might gets some helpful hints how to leave the concealer and that spirit gummed mustachio behind in "SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY"...a classic thriller about how everything that glitters is not fake swarovski crystals when a marriage goes bad...starr'n Julia Roberts as the broken wife...and though she may not have ended up a "PRETTY WOMAN" in this flick...she did a pretty bang up job...when things only go from bad to worse...and just like her orgasms...she fakes her death...when the husband asshole thinks his marriage certificate was a car title

perhaps yer look'n to prolong yer painful misery just a wee bit longer...
then i cannot suggest  highly enough the AMERICAN HORROR STORY: ASYLUM  series...a tale of intrigue ignited by back stabb'n and lust in the name of CASPER...where sins of the past haunt the present...and you can resent and repent without all those empty calories...plus JESSICA LANGE is to die fer..seriously!

so in the immortal words of one sassy Florence Jean Castleberry...
valentine's day can "KISS MY GRITS"

there ya go kittens...welcome to the bleed'n hearts club...
have a not so happy valentine's day this year and puhleez...
get off my dress!