batter batter bladder

after a looong hard day at the office...and trust me...

anytime i have to get outta bed between the hours of 8am to 5pm monday thru friday...it's always gonna be looong and hard...(hey...keep it clean kittens...or i'll wash yer mouth out with cheap bottom shelf swill)...i popped in to see the professor whom i visit on occasion...fer the easiest exit off of  401K avenue...and to this day...he has only rewarded me with the correct numbers fer a $4 payout once...but with all the shenanigans happen'n from Missouri to the Minne-Apple recently...i figered it was time in invest in a kevlar vest and pay a visit to the wizard fer answers...

turns out though...huh...same person...you don't know who to believe these days

as sad as it is how all these scenarios unfortunately happened randomly...

and very senselessly...in a time like this...fuck the wizards and the professors...someone best contact CTU pronto...ask fer Bauer...he'll know what to do within 24 hrs or his name ain't Jack

the week had just barely begun fer me...but unfortunately...

i was too weak fer it to begin in the 1st place due to sunday funday spill'n into my manic monday...so after a very taxi'n day in my cubicle...and calgon clearly was no where in sight...i received a desperate phone call late monday even'n from my very inebriated vice president to the CEO of my fan club...ask'n fer a colostomy or a quarter...i couldn't quite understand what the hell she he was say'n...

as his unequilibrium finally made sense...he was summon'n me to help out in the beat my liver to a bloody pulp game one more time...with the ever intoxicatingly and breath takingly beautiful assistant of tv's BEAT THE CLOCK...ROXANNE...who i had the pleasure of meet'n last christmas...completely turn'n my world upside with her stories from the yester years of hollyweird...but unfortunately...

there was only 1 position on my mind that even'n (and NO it DID NOT include bein' on all 4's...well...not by me anyways)...missionary position with cool cucumbers slices blanket'n my eyes and marinate'n in dijon dressing...my weekly beauty regiment and dinner salad all rolled into one

he then had given me the option behind door number 2...

which i was hope'n it was a brand new Amana radar range with beautiful bamboo stools...a kitchen counter top table made of brushed imitation formica and a full set of gourmet cookware from the makers of Cuisinart...but no such luck...it was just kick ass box seats to...

the unfulfilled fantasy Hot Duo's and the Half Breeds

(fer those unable to purchase a ticket to the catch up train...i'm talk'n about the MN Twins and the Cleveland Indians...but this is my story...so deal with my interpretation...and sit down and shut up)

now where was i?...oh yea...thing is though kittens...

this was virgin territory fer me...i am not used to watch'n a bunch of guys in tights...swing'n their bats...with balls fly'n all over the place (ummm...quit roll'n yer eyes) well...not unless it involves an assortment of lubricational jellies and jams of course...though i had apparently met the very lickable likeable Joe Mauer years earlier at a drink'n establishment in the uptown area and he had purchased me and my non fuckable friend a beer (hey i had already met my required charitable contributions fer the year at that point)...i was gonna need a lil more convince'n reason to waste 3 hrs of my life...

which my vice president of my fan club assured me that CHER would be perform'n at the halftime show...so i figered i might as well open my mind like a love starved lotus flower and pollinate my mind to new experiences

i was lost...what does one wear to a barbaric sport'n event like this?

the latest runway look by Jean Paul Gaultier?

or a more colorfully yet casual and completely comfy muumuu?

my vice president had chosen a much more suitable look...since he was devirginize'n me on his dime after all 

we popped into the local non heterosexual water'n hole...

fer a pre-game gynecological exam in the restroom non nonalcoholic refreshments and then it was off to the game

though the baseball stadium was only a mere 2 blocks away...

we were waaaay too tired to be bothered to walk it...so we summoned a local street cabbie to take us to our desired destination...but the damn ass might as well have been doin' the sugar shuffle at the rate we were move'n...we should'a just gotten out and walked it...but then we remembered we'd look alot more important to the pheasants if we are bein' waited on

well...what seemed like an eternity to reach the stadium...we both realized how absolutely parched we'd become...i mean...it had been approximately a whole 2 1/2 minutes since our last glass of refreshments...so my vice president threw some benjamins and a breath mint to the pheasant cabbie and we were on our way to see CHER at the halftime show

once we reached the gate...much to our surprise...the CEO had take'n our box seats inside with him instead of leave'n them at the gate...so the vice president hissed and stomped...so of course i hadda pull out the really big guns and let her know that i was indeed the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe to get any sorta service...

she looked at me with her beady lil eyes and was like "listen...i don't know who you are...or where you came from...but you most certainly don't fit in this arena...why...yer not even properly dressed"

i was like..."listen sister...if i wanted yer opinion...i'll beat it outta ya!"

after security gave us our complimentary pat down...we texted the CEO fer his location and then frantically searched fer our kick ass seats in the nose bleed section the closest water'n hole cuz my vice president was goin thru

thee most dramatic withdraw symptoms from what i was to understand...it was the bottom of the 2nd in'n...but i could see no one worthy enough in sight fer me to fulfill that position...so luckily we found the CEO...with his secretary son...it felt just like i had stepped onto an episode of the courtship of Eddie's father...though i was confused as to which one was actually play'n Eddie...my vice president or his secretary (ummm i hope my CEO is insert'n a huge laugh here...he's been upgraded from celebrity stalker to CEO after all)

once we found our actual kick ass seats on the front line...we realized one thing...that there was a bar stool that must be freeze'n to death right about now somewhere...and my vice president was about to go into cardiac arrest...so after the most gruel'n 60 seconds of our entire existence were wasted...sitt'n in places where we knew we absolutely did not belong...

we downloaded the latest non nonalcoholic's divine'n rod app and set our GPS to stun anyone that got in our way...and by the time we had located our desired destination...the ass holders had welcomed us with open arms as the bartender lined up the medication fer our consumption...give'n us all a non heterosexual nonsexual time on a school nite...and despite it bein' attached to some barbaric sport'n event...i was comforted in the fact that CHER would soon be perform'n once they reached the half point in the game

i couldn't help but notice though that our bartender couldn't help but notice that i was thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe my glass was empty...and he filled it back to the brim...(though i was ready to fill mine with him)

i asked him politely intoxicated...when was CHER's halftime performance goin to begin...and don't you hate when this happens to MEEEE?...he looked at me like i was the crazy one...then he tells me that she was here last nite...UGH!...damn why does this always happen to me?

 

absolutely intoxicatingly inconsolable...we packed our regret at the bottom of the 8th...or 9th...seriously though...who really cares at this point...since we were now at the bottom of our barrel...and headed over fer a nite of classically trained chalk board scratch'n singers ruin'n all the top 40 hits you can think of...commonly known karaoke

though we never got to see Miss Sarkisian turn back time...

we tore it up...and i mean that litterally...we hacked into "just like jesse james" like Lizzy Borden at a birthday party...luckily this momentous moment will NOT be televised anytime soon...and though we never did find out how many touch-downs...baskets...goals or whatever the Twins needed to beat the Indians to a bloody pulp in the 4th round...it was an experience id' rather not experience again without bein' properly informed of the halftime show entertainment

i wanna give a huge gift of heartfelt gratitude...

to my vice president...secretary to the CEO and my CEO of my fan club 

fer finally popp'n my baseball cherry...and force'n me to participated in that damn selfie ritual of look'n like hostages held at gun point bein forced to fake a smile to assure yer loved ones yer bein' treated fairly...i wish i could give you more in return...but i'll be make'n monthly payments on that as it is...but you'll be receive'n yer complimentary colostomies as a token of my slowly die'n appreciation this christmas...

and a jug of everyone's fav-o-rit window cleaner

thanx fer join'n in on our little adventure this week...but i must bid ado

cuz it's time fer me to pay it forward...and pop someone else's cherry...so i gotta make a quick run fer supplies

so kindly get off my dress!

highway to oh hell no!

my weekends usually consist of the 3 B's...

 booze...boys and the jobs most people call blow...hey i'm single...not dead

i had no one particular in mind as i was desperately check'n my FB page to see if there was anything out there worthy of my presence one weekend...

then i was reminded of a b-day party fer my cuz's in Dexter...(though i wish he was in me)...ummm just so there's no confusion...i'm talk'n about Dexter...not my cuz...inbreed'n is best left to the southern states

 i had a tough decision to make...between "toss'n my salad"...or just bring'n a salad to the festivities...but after an emergency meet'n with the people inside my head...we decided unanimously to go ahead and forgo the head...and the salad cuz really...that would be more work than i cared to invest in...and furthermore...my presence is the best presents anyone could ask for anyways...right?

besides...this was a dress up as yer fav-o-rit rock star or what you would wear to a concert 80's party...and i figered it had been awhile since i beat my face with some war paint...so as i was pack'n up my broomstick shitbox on wheels fer the party...i had one too many iconic looks to choose from...

do i go as the Karma Chameleon look?

 

touched fer the 37th hundred time look?

or hooker with Paulina Porizkova lips in heat look?

hmmm...well since this was a non equity non paid performance...i opted fer the easiest to get in and outta in a moments notice...hey what'dya want?

i was head'n to hickville...and you know there's always some desperately starved farmer with the delts want'n to show me how his john deer operates (insert snicker here)

once i had fueled up the car...pumped up the tires...and checked the gas stations stall fer any last minute requests business calls...i was on my way

but try'n to figer out the GPS on my trilogy of terror is like me try'n to use my ESP powers to find a prick with a pulse in a socially retarded STD free barrel...lost ya?...ummm that would be equivalent to find'n thee elusive unicorn kittens...it ain't eva gonna happen

well...it's best to start at the very beginn'n...so i did what any purely almost...

unbred non heterosexual would do...and that is...follow the yellow brick lines on the road

i'm not the biggest fan of ride'n alone to unknown destinations...

usually my unknown fans come to me fer a ride...(well you do understand this is the way it is once you've reached the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of yer own universe status that i have)...but once i popped in my highway road trip hitz...it's like i was stepp'n out onto a massive stage...rock'n out to "you ain't woman enough to take my man"...by Miss Loretta Lynn...with the the passerbyers scream'n my name...well i guess it's cuz the light turned green...but anyways

15 minutes into the trip...i hadn't even crossed the outer city limits yet...

and i was completely over it already...i couldn't be bothered since not one person passed me that was worthy enough to gimme the heimlich  if i started choke'n on their chicken....

but it was a peaceful ride so i told my brain to shut the fuck up and enjoy the majestic beauty mother nature had to offer

i was half way to my cuz's when i decided my throat was parched and in much need of some quench'n...so i stopped at some road side station to fill my tank and empty my morals bladder in the restroom but next thing i know...i'm doin shots of wild turkey with some stranger and bein' led out to

the dancer floor...i'm think'n...wait...how did i get here?...and how in the hell did i ever learn how to line dance?...next thing i know...the room started spinn'n around and around...and not like a record i might add...but fer the record...i knew i should'a been record'n the events...as this sassy squatch with a hair lip helped me outside fer some fresh air and next thing i know he's toss'n me on the hood of my car like a love starved bean bag tell'n me "you shore do have a purdy mouth...may i kiss you on the lips?" i was like "ummm does a pimp take a personal check...uncle fester?"

BANG...BANG...i shot him down...but next thing ya know i'm bein' pursued by a pack of pigs...i was like...well if he'da popped a mentos...i'd at least let him go to 2nd base

i wondered how i had wandered from my destination...then i realized i was just drift'n off into Thelma and Louiseville from the nite before...ummm...ok...

F-O-C-U-S!!...there on the side of the road i noticed a long trail of blackness sprinkled with chunks of rubber and wondered to myself...what sorta moron doesn't check their tires before venture'n onto the highways to hell?...cuz that's the 1st thing i do before i ever leave on a long journey...

that's like the plot of most major thriller killers out there...then i felt a bit of a scratch'n beneath my foot come'n from the bottom of my car...but i figered oh well...it's probably some hitcher that hopped on board at my last stop...he'll eventually tire from hold'n on and fall off

i knew i was near'n my destination...cuz all i could smell was the fresh scent

of colonized CASPER crusaders and cow shit...it's so hard to distinguish the difference between the 2 these days

so i rang my cuz to find out which exit to hell i needed to take to make it to his place in one peace...but as he was about to tell me the directions then...

*BANG*BANG*SCHFIZZLE*HSSSS* 

it's as if the gate keeper at CASPER's castle opened it's doors and started take'n pot shots at me from above...just cuz i don't heed the rules in his comic book...OR...

my front wheel just tried to commit a jihad and make me dance with the devil...either case...i was not happy

Don McLean may have drove his chevy to the levy and the levy was dry...

but i had a millisecond to decide...do i turn the wheel to the right and roll down the hill like a small child in the spin cycle?...hmmm...though it would be a dramatic twist in my E true hollyweird story...i knew i barely had enough money to pay fer the fresh panties i was gonna need once my car had stopped...let alone the major reconstruction that would need to be done to my unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe ass...

hey heels don't look good on a hovaround

so i choose option 2 and drove my piece of shit to the left...across the lanes of traffic...into the meridian...medium...median...oh fuck...whatever the hell they call it these days...between the 2 damn highways...and thankfully it was full of ungrazed grass

after take'n a quick breather as the car slowly came to a stop...i realized one thing...it's 87 degrees out and i fergot my damn umbrella...secondly...i still hadn't gotten a cell charger fer the car and i was runn'n outta juice...

damn i wished i had listened to my instincts earlier about toss'n my own salad (with the help of some helper of course)...but i didn't...oh well...if wishes and buts where a bowl full of nuts...we'd all have a bowl of granola

i searched fer my phone that had tried to escape out the window as i had to take control of the situation at hand and called my cuz back to let him know i was no longer the entertainment fer the party...but now on a rescue mission...since i was a sitt'n duck and in no mode to be target practice...so he said one of my brothers was in the area and to call him

patiently...i sat quietly wait'n fer any sign of hope up ahead

as i hid under the shadow of my car so i wouldn't ruin my oh so fresh nubile milky white flesh fer the chopper i assumed my brother was drive'n and called him to give him my exact coordinates...all i got from him was that he stopped fer some vittles and was almost at my cuz's and didn't wanna turn

around...WTF?...this was no covert operation to rescue me from the thumpers fly'n by...way beyond the recommended speed limit i might add...and i was in no mood to play frogger with my life...

i'm think'n...i bet Ruth Bader Ginsburg never has to put up with this shit!

so i hung up and contacted my insurance company to make sure everything was in the up and up and have AAA come collect my shake'n A double snakes...but they tell me they're not sure i have AAA and put me on hold to 

transfer me to another department...WTF?...i had had enough...i figered good things come in 3 with me...so i called 911...who stayed on the phone with me to trace my call...and sure enough...within 5 minutes...the calvary arrived...but apparently his vehicle was not equipped with a mini bar...that makes absolutely zero sense to me at a time like this...but any case...i felt like i was the luckiest unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe in the world

he gave me 2 options...none included his phone number unfortunately...he said i could either call my brother to come get me...which i knew at this point...i might as well have been an orphan who's family tragically drowned in a fire or he'd call a tow truck to remove my carcass to the closest town and i could figer things out there with my insurance company

20 minutes later...as my pores began to cry like Bette Midler in Beaches...(you know what part i'm talk'n about)...Scooter arrived with his tow truck and said he'd take me over yonder to Hazzard County Zumbrota...i tried not to care that he smelled of pickled herring and old man stew...i was finally in air condition'n...well the closest thing to air condition'n...the windows were rolled down and there was a sufficient breeze dry'n the sweat from my pores

rest assured...had this happend in any major city...i would'a needed to remove a vital organ to pay fer this outta pocket...but Cooter went WAAAY above and beyond the call of duty...since it was saturday afternoon in some po-dunk town and i'm sure he'da rather be nurse'n his Schlitz and take a shitz...but he pulled over on the road...checked out the size...of my tires sicko...and popped on over to his house and picked up a tire that matched and drove me over to his garage and has his way with me my car...45 minutes later...fer tow...and a new used tire...i was charged the low low price of 120 smack-a-roonies...WTF?

i was absolutely floored...i knew this was well below what he could've gotten...were he a schiester like the handful i've encountered over the years in the Minne-Apple...so i gave him a $30 tip and said tonite's town tramp is on me and off i was once again to hell town Dexter

because of my dyslexia...short term memory...and shattered nerves...i hadda annoy my cuz with numerous phone calls to figer out how to get to

this party that i was now 2 hrs later for...but once i arrived all was set at ease...that is until my brother who couldn't be bothered to pick me up hours earlier...had the nerve to ask ME to do touch up his make-up...WTF?...you left me to create the delusion that i was left fer the vultures...but i was like eh!...i am the eldest brother by default and should lead by example i suppose...so i let him have a taste of my dimly lit spotlight fer a change

thing is...he was goin as rocker Gene Simmons from KISS...

but he was act'n a lil AC/DC even fer my patience when i was touch'n up his make-up...if ya catch my drift mary...either way...he looked the picture of perfection that he always does...or at least how he wants everyone to believe he thinks he does (ummm insert laugh bro)

i on the other hand couldn't be bothered to shave and was in zero mood to throw together any sorta professional look...so instead of huff'n and puff'n the nite away...i just threw on the frock without the warpaint and went as BOY GEORGE MICHAEL

thanx to my cuz fer the open bar that calmed my nerves...all was well too until a stampede of heffers on a bachlorette run showed up and took over the dance floor...which was fine and all...that is until one of the fallopian tubes broke from the herd and decided i was grade A beef (ahhh...no doy!) but honey puhleez...don't think just cuz i got me a few stubbles fill'n my face

that i'm gonna wanna poke around in yer popcorn box after the party...homo don't play dat!

she wanted my number...so i figered there was no harm in grant'n her that

request...so i scratched it down on the back of her copenhagen container...and told her to take her fur purse and skedaddle...cuz i knew the second she got it...she'd run back to the herd and let them know she'd be leave'n the farm real soon

though i never did get to fornicate with some farmer and his delts...

outta the blue...and much to my horror surprise...i ended up gett'n a finger up the jaxie big bear hug from the town's Roscoe that i knew from the good ol days...and he got bragg'n rights to tell all his friends...

he got to squeeze the charmin of thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of her own universe

all in all...the nite was well worth the chaotic trip...

it was good to hang with the family...cuz really...what's life without family?

ummm...i'll like to give ya the answer to that right now...

but i shouldn't talk with my mouth full

now get off my dress!