hey...it's always gonna be looong and hard...it's the Irish in me...(do you need some?...hey...keep it clean kittens...or i'll wash yer mouth out with cheap bottom shelf swill)...anyways...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 Munich to the Minne-Apple recently...i figered it was time in invest in a kevlar vest and pay a visit to the wizard fer some real answers...
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...and calgon clearly was no where to take me awaaay...i received a desperate phone call late one even'n from my very inebriated friend of my follow'n...ask'n me fer a colostomy bag or a quarter...i couldn't quite understand what the hell she he was say'n...
as his unequilibrium finally started to make sense...he was summon'n me to help out in the "beat my liver to a bloody pulp" game one more time...sorta like a twisted episode with that ever intoxicatingly and breath takingly beautiful assistant of tv's BEAT THE CLOCK...ROXANNE...who i had the pleasure of meet'n one 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)...and that was me in a 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 those 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 jams and jellies 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 said friend 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 cranial recorder 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?
of course said friend 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 gynecological exam in the restroom pre-game 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
once we reached the gate...much to our surprise...a friend had take'n our box seats inside with him instead of leave'n them at the gate...so we hissed and stomped...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 hunted fer our seat'n location and then frantically searched fer our kick ass seats in the nose bleed section the closest water'n hole cuz we were 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 the closest bar...and sitt'n next to us was this dad and son duo that looked more like a phone call away from "the Courtship of Eddie's Father" on the spice channel
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 our chilled hearts were 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 as crapaoke
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
though i should thank my stalkers fer finally popp'n my baseball cherry...
i unconsciously cannot since i was force'd to participated in that damn selfie ritual of look'n like some hostage held at gun point...bein forced to fake a smile to assure my loved ones i'm bein' treated fairly...i wish i could give them more in return...but i'll be make'n monthly payments on that as it is...but they'll be receive'n their 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 my little adventure from my past...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!
