do you really wanna hurt me? pt.1

so the time had FINALLY come...

(ummm..no i ain't talk'n about THAT...well not this time anyways pervie)

i'm talk'n about my much anticipated trip to see MY GOD BOY GEORGE live at the house of blues in Oprahville support'n his new smash cd...

"THIS IS WHAT I DO"
 a couple weekends ago...and lemme tell ya kitten...IT DID NOT DISAPPOINT!...well not fer me anyways...but we'll get into that a lil later on in the show

let's take a a trip back in time shall we...to saturday april 26th 4:45 am

a dark and a tad nippley morn'n...wait'n impatiently outside of my shit box apartment fer my #2 stalker...fan good friend Mick to escort my unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist's A double snakes to the airport for my 6:20 am flight

all seemed to be goin smoothly as he pulled up to the bumper baby...but i noticed it wasn't the ride that an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of her own universe is accustomed to bein' rid'n in...

i said "hey...i thought we were gonna take the Rolls"

he said "don't bitch!...i could'a brought the Plymouth!"

so i settled fer the economical eyesore and off we went fly'n down the highway while i quadruple checked (as my OCD commanded) that i had my wallet...my cell...my charger...my concert ticket...my plane ticket and my dignity packed in my over night bag (and of course i noticed i had fergotten my dignity at home...oh well...wouldn't be the 1st time)

goin over my flight itinerary like a spaz case to make sure we went to the right airport...i noticed somethin' very peculiar about my departure time...

it was set fer 6:20 AM on FRIDAY! 

you would think someone with OCD like mine...that i would've been absolutely mental about the departure date and time...but fer some reason...i just assumed i was leave'n in the early am hours the day of the concert to make sure i had enough time to stalk BOY GEORGE's whereabouts in a non David Mark Chapman way shop around in...

hookerville boystown at my fav-o-rit shop BEATNIKS fer an outfit to wear to the show without have'n to use up 2 vacation days

then i remembered i had fergotten i decided to take off the day before...

you know...just in case those pesky Casper crusaders were right...

or worse yet...Miss Gulch decided to take a trip on her trike

so i frantically hunted down the airline hotline number fer airheads...and fictitiously prayed to some delusional entity that there'd be a seat open...

and of course who answers the phone but Apu...cuz it's regular biz hours in A-rab county (hey don't get on my case about racial profile'n...though we ALL haven't done interracial facials...we've ALL done our fair share of profile'n in our heads...if we didn't...it'd just be another wasted word in the dictionary)...so i calmly explained to the agent that i had a bowl full of frosted fucktard flakes the morn'n before and completely misread my own itinerary and could he please get my a one way to Oprahville in 1 hr...STAT!
stick me under the land'n gear fer CHER's sake...it's been done before...

besides...i fold up like a sexually repressed suitcase anyways

well...as it turns out...Apu tells me...in a very domo-arigato mr roboto way
(with his very slightly heavy middle eastern misunderstandable accent)

"sir...i joost wunt to eenform yoo...thot yoo 'ave cumpleetly deesreegarded yuur flight...nd will 'ave too reebook ay new teekut!"

that's fine...it's my fuckery that caused this fiasco...i figered it's a pricey lesson learned not to play "patty cake" with on line poachers the nite before...but i would only need a one way ticket to purchase since i was return'n on monday...and monday was still 2 days away...or so i thought...

"sir...yoo 'ave cumpleetly deesreegarded yuur flight nd weel 'ave to perchus A nutha teekut...thar eez A seet avaylable for too 'undred und sevinty dullars...wood yoo like to perchuz thut now sir?"

i was like "ummm...i think i only need a one way seat there...since monday is not here yet so i have not forfeited my return seat just yet"

apparently...i was wrong

so after have'n a world wrestle'n federation conversation with Apu...

and him recite'n the transcript on his screen 3 more times to me...i decided to hang up and get a second opinion from my completely unconscious conscious 

i hadda think quickly...i knew i had options...i could either A:

MacGyver a hand held rocket launcher made outta my toothpaste...charcoal black eyeliner and ax wield'n homicidal maniac pills vitamins and force my way thru security onto the plane...but then i remembered i had fergotten to pack my kevlar vest

or go with the less invasive...lower security option and B:

just bite the bullet instead of take'n a  bullet to the chest and buy a ticket from the agent at the airport in hopes they could undo what i did to myself

apparently...no one was understand'n the pickle that i had caused fer myself...and i was told once again the same thing at the airport about relinquish'n my entire flight fer not board'n on my scheduled day and have'n to rebook another completely fucktard free round trip ticket...well..

though i was calmly...but collectively ready to go batshit crazy at the counter...at least i was given a lower quote by 100 benjamins

there was no time to argue as the guy stand'n in the check-in counter next to me also wanted the same flight and there was only 1 seat left to be had...

but since i was there by a mere 10 seconds earlier than he was...i wasn't give'n it up without a fight...so i agreed to buy another round trip ticket...

the agent booked me the last seat and i was on my way

as i made my way to my seat...turns out...i would be the cream fill'n...

 between a Porky and Bess cookie...but at the very least...at least...they weren't ritual bathers...so off we lifted to the friendly skies...and with only 45 minutes before we'd touch down...i figered nothin' could go wrong...that is...

until i heard a tremor in the force that i hadn't heard fer some time...either it was due to touchy turbulence...or hopefully i would be able to escape the gravitational pull of my 2 neighbors before i was mistaken as a chicken wing since the stewardess passed us by!

tune in next week kittens fer the nauseate'n convulsion of  pt. 2 to 

"do you really wanna to hurt me?"

now get off my dress!