DISASTER CAKE: the CHER chronicles pt. 1

i'm sure i know all my precious lil readers out there across the unisver...

from Boise to Bangkok...were about to go all bat shit crazy try'na contact the national guards...(fer medicinal purposes only) when yers truly DID NOT publish any weekly ramblin's...recipes of disaster...or some heartless accounts of the current clown fuckery show runn'n the country last week...thing is kittens...you can't expect me to just give...give and give...and get nutt'n in return...i know you've all almost clung onto absolutely nothin' i've ever had to say these past 6 years...just so you can feel a lil better about yerself...and that's OK!

with that in mind...let's begin...shall we?

it had been some time since i had had a decent vacation...so one chilly nite over holiglazed libations at some undisclosed location in december...me and (insert name here) decided to check out Miss Sarkisian in Vegas...cuz...why not! seen as how she was too damn lazy to trot her still plump A double snakes back to our neck of the woods...we decided to catch her sat feb 18th...and i was as ecstatic as hooker in a new pair of complimentary Jimmy Choo's...since i had never been (and as you will soon find out) never will again!

time went by so s-l-o-w-l-y...but i knew all would be fine since (insert name here) said he would take care of the flight since i had pulled together every pennies from my nana's change purse to this insanely priced spectacle...but trust me...though this would be show #5 fer me...Cher always made you feel like it was the 1st time

i counted down the days...the dollars...and the dismay that was deeply grow'n inside of me (which...to be honest...i go thru this process every time i go on any vacation)...so when (insert name here) decided to royally fuck me over by not book'n the flight deal when he assured me he would...follow'n it up with a text tell'n me he could no longer attend said spectacle...i hadda pull up my big gurl britches...put on my tapp'n shoes and bite the bullet by pay'n almost double on my flight...then solider on by vett'n strangers i could crash with for my 4 day stay whore'n myself out on some trix-4-dix online service cuz i didn't have enough saved for hotel on my own

after weed'n out the weirdo's and wino's who wanted me to do more tricks than a rodeo clown...i finally narrowed it down to a half way presentable...age appropriate...cocky companion that could form a sentence without the use of profanity laced desires (not that i was vehemently opposed to it mind you)...but it was refresh'n not to have to go down my laundry list of do's and don'ts right off the bat

after chatt'n fer a week or so on and off...turns out he was a HUGE Cher fan since the beginn'n and he decided he was more than happy to accommodate the pickle that i was in (and yes he would'a had it in him too) i mean come one...he was gett'n an unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...in his presence...why wouldn't he be over the moon? (btw...at this point...i'm not bein' conceited...i'm just convinced...kapeesh!) so i offered him my now spare ticket as a consolation prize

finally...there i was...at 5 in the fuck'n morn'n...survive'n on 3 hours of barely there sleep...but the tingles were flow'n thru my veins like the finest cut Moroccan heroin (well...from what i've heard it feels like anyways)...i had texted my long distance (perhaps) love affair that i would be touch'n down in town by 8:30 am and to pick me up at the drop off gate...and since i only travel with a travel supply of lube...breath mints and antibiotics...(hey i'm a busy gal on the go...i ain't got time to look at yer paperwork) there was no need fer check'n in anything

and don't you hate when this happens...TO ME?...so i'm not one to strike up any sorta conversation with those lucky enough to sit next to me on my journey...(well unless of course yer Colin Farrell...or someone Colin Farrell adjacent)...but as i tried to drift off into my happy place fer the next 3 hours and 15 minutes...some fuck'n chatter box toad sitt'n on the other side of the aisle next to the 2 non penile implants sitt'n in my row...would not shut the fuck up the ENTIRE fuck'n time!

by the 15th wink i was able to sneak in...we had finally touched down...and the past their prime Laverne and Shirley's occupy'n my oxygen next to me...struck up a meaningless conversation with me just so they didn't have to listen to the fuck'n chatter box next to them anymore...and i ain't gonna lie...i was gonna go ape shit on their A double snakes if they went on about their kids or their casseroles to me

thankfully though...they were just a couple of boozy brauds in town fer a buy'n convention and gamble'n fer the week...so i knew they could pleasantly occupy my time until my charity case showed up...but i heard no word from my soulless mate yet...so we all decided to split a cab into the city and i could hang with them til i heard the word he was on his way

well...after about 2 hours of marinate'n in margarita's and not hear'n a peep outta the reason i'll be spend'n some hard time behind bars cuz i wanted to kill mr. anonymous...i could feel the panic attacks creep'n up my culottes so i anxiously rummaged online for a cheap hotel fer the next 3 days but the cheapest i could find was $200...thankfully Edina offered me their spare bed for the nite fer the low low price of $50...i knew at this point that my options were non existent so i said i would offer up one free ticket as payment on top of the $50 since Edina said she always wanted to see CHER but never had enough coinage to do it...(see...it's proof...i can be nice even without waste'n time fer an STD check-up)

Patsy on the other hand was have'n second thoughts about her friends generous offer to me and kept give'n me the stink eye and ask'n if i was a serial killer...as much as i tried to reassure her she had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to worry about...she was still hesitant all day...but i was just hours away from see'n CHER...so i hadda fake my feel'ns better than she does her husband's orgasm...cuz i got the feel'n somethin' was off about her

after a few hours of booze'n and loose'n my patience...it was time to head to the show...but i still wasn't give'n a key to the kingdom to come and go as i please...so i reluctantly left my belongings in their room hope'n i would be return'n later that nite to count sheep...while me and Edina walked towards the theater...Patsy decided she would spin the wheels of fortune fer some big bucks since she had see CHER once before...and that makes aboslutely no fuck'n sense...

how can ANYONE with a pulse...see CHER just ONCE?

as we walked into the Monte Carlo...i noticed fans float'n around the area with their zima big gulp...so i turned into total CHER mode and no longer wanted to punch Patsy in the throat...see...it turns out kitten...my inclinations weren't that far off about her...cuz after many a conversations thru-out the day lead'n up to that nite...i realized i was in the presence of an actual unapologetic hard core brain dead Lord Cheeto mutant...but i softly chanted my nam-myoho renge kyo's to myself and walked gingerly to the front of the line...

once inside my head...oh kittens...i can't even describe it...it was purely magical bliss...i couldn't believe i was soo close that i could count the beads of sweat on the beads of her outfits...in fact...one bead of sweat actually flew off her as she spun around like a gypsy tramp and a thief and crash landed on the side of my cheek...that i would get hermetically sealed in my travel size sweat tupperwear...well that is...if i ACTUALLY made it inside...once i left my head and opened my eyes...i was greeted by this:

O-M-CHEEEEER

tune in next week fer part 2 of DISASTER CAKE: the CHER chronicles

now get off my dress!

much ado about e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g!

so after bein' reminded over the weekend that many a people around me

even those close to me...still have little interest...if any at all...unless it affects them directly...and not about those around them...i'll leave you with this one lil reminder...

now get off my dress!

perfect time'n

let's hop on our hotwheels and go back in time...shall we kittens!

it was the winter of 95...actually wait...let's go back a lil further...to the summer i did my 1st 69 in 91...when i met my very first Minne-Apple

"friend" i made off the 1-800-eat-me-i'm-a-danish phone line...

 before all the .com's and grinder's came into production...named Curtis...he was this statuesque blonde...which...unless you were some peroxided pariah like my high school hard on Billy Idol or Madonna...

i normally had zero interest sexually in fathom'n sinful fornicational thoughts with you in the room but Curtis had a presence...and though it only amounted into an occasional hook-up from time to time...i was hooked on him...unfortunately he was also hooked...but on other sorta "recreational entertainment" 

that i just couldn't participate in...due to that republican toothpick...Nancy in the 80's...gett'n under my skin

it took roughly 2 months to finally find out what he did fer a live'n (or at least part-time anyways)...as he was worried about my reaction apparently...and told me i was never to grace the stage...but years later...there i was and i would carry that same torch when i meet any potential interest...luckily for me though...i don't give two fucks about others reactions to it anymore! 

so Curtis took me to work one even'n...which...at the time...felt like being in line at Studio 54 to me...(unlike the dilapidated shit hole it's unfortunately become these days) cuz i was 3 months shy of my legal age to enter any bar...

and goin from flats to fuck-me-pumps...was a HUGE deal (much like me)...i had always seen the enormous sign when i would pass by it on the bus head'n to work...and so desperately wanted inside this pandora box...it was a far cry from flick'n burs off my granimals or pick'n weeds in the strawberry fields on the farm...i was totally over the moon when he told me he was an actual perform'n illusionist and he could get me in to meet the rest of the performers

my 1st taste and fascination with the world of illusion...was thanx in part to being sick one day in 7th grade and watch'n the original Oprah Winfrey

my fav-o-rit open-minded surrogate uncle...the Phil Donahue show...his guest that day absolutely stunned me...and i was hooked like a junkie on heroin

Jimmy James was his name (and still is kittens...he's not gone to that glittered stage in the sky just yet)...but anywho...i swore it was Marilyn Monroe's reincarnation...back from the dead...cuz he sang "diamonds are a girls best friend" to perfection! and of course Divine's brilliant performance in the original HAIRSPRAY

i knew become'n a perform'n illusionist was to be my destination!

early one morn'n...at roughly around 2 am...i received a call from Curtis tell'n me to get my ass dressed and meet him downstairs cuz he had a stretch limo with his bevy of beauties inside and wanted me to join them...

ummm...ya right!..."i work at 6 am and there ain't no limo in crackville at 2am...g'bye"...i recall mutter'n from my narcoleptic nap

curiosity killed this C-U-Next-Time...and sure enough...i go to the window downstairs...and seen this huge ass black stretch monstrosity on wheels...wait'n fer me to get in...so i threw on my over-sized studded jacket (to give me an impossibly smaller waist than i already had...at the time) and my imitation doc martens and out the door i flew like a humming bird on crack

as the back door opened...inside i met the best Cher illusionist of the Minne-Apple...EVER! alnog with Annie Lennox...Marion...Miles...Curtis and some other gurl (who's name i can't remember at the moment cuz my metamucil martini kicked in)...who took me on a tour of the Minne-Apple i'll never ferget

over to that gal's house who was gonna make it after all...

then down around a quick jaunt thru the million dollar homes on lake of the aisles...where the limo driver was ordered to stop...and all 6 beauties got out...ran up to this open porched mansion...lifted up their even'n gowns...and proceeded to paint the porch in their alcoholic binge from the previous nite...as me and the limo driver busted our A double snakes off  in the limo...laugh'n like mad

a postcard that could totally read "welcome to minneapolis...aint' it a drag!"

2 years later...Curtis would surprise me with tickets to see my high school hero perform'n at the GAY 90's during his solo tour and could get me back stage to meet him...but even though it never transpired...i was on cloud 9

BOY's look had dramatically changed since his rise with Culture Club...but he still sounded exceptional...though he walked off stage after half way thru the 2nd nite cuz of some non heterosexual's who couldn't shut their traps and was...i'm guess'n...not feel'n very friendly to any of his fans at all

2 years after that... i entered and won a look-a-like contest at the 90's...for the release of Boy George's most excellent cd "cheapness and beauty"

and his 1st brilliant autobiography called "take it like a man"...why not!

contest rules stated i was to recieve an autographed autobiography...and to my surprise...it was not christened with the BOY's john handcock

well...that's cuz...as the mgr told me...i would get exclusive backstage passes to meet and have the BOY personally sign my book...i nearly died!

2nd times a charm right?...HA!...does NO go with WAY?

the nite of the show...i went balls to the walls full on disco devil look..

and with the A-OK from my dear dear Peetrinella...i could barely contain my urinary track...from goin off track...for i was but a few short hours away from meet'n my eye opener since the tender and supple age of 13 when he said so eloquently "do you really want to hurt me"

i had paid for my cuz...his wife and her sis's tickets...all i wanted in return was a couple of cocktails...which my cuz had no problem with fill'n me up

i ran into the 90's mgr in the lil wrangler's room of First Avenue...

where BOY was perform'n that nite...and to my surprise...i was told i hadda "do somethin" fer him first...as he wiped the corners of his mouth with his molesterary fingers...yea right pervie!

so i proceeded to get drunk off my ass and tried to figer out my own way backstage...(though i didn't connect the dots til a year later when i was informed by a co-worker who was next to me that nite)...that as the BOY started in on his band's anthem of the 80's smash "karma chameleon"...

i proceeded to blow chuncks at his feet...

fer all that i don't remember that nite...(which was about everything after the bathroom incident)...i was completely mortified! and he gets my undie'n appreciation...paid in puke!

it took 3 times...but i would FINALLY meet BOY during his incredible west end production of "TABOO" in London before it opened on Broadway

and it was a total chance encounter that i would meet my childhood hero (and no...this DID NOT include a restroom romp...you pervie...but trust me...i'da gone there myself if i was read'n this know'n me)

i was leave'n some clothing shop in Leicester Square after spend'n more than i ever wanted to spend on some Ziggy Stardust tee...but so worth it

and i literally bumped chests with the BOY on the cobble stone streets of London...though i could barely say a word...not cuz i was starstruck and hyperventilate'n like some whiney pimple freak...it's cuz i was struck with laryngitis at the time...but i digress!

it was like a huge domino effect happen'n...

if i never watched Phil...i never would've been hooked on Jimmy James...if i never watched Jimmy James...i never would've been hooked on Curtis...if i never watched Curtis on stage...i...well i probably would've gone to the GAY 90's at some point after i turned 21...but i would've never been hooked to perform there...and if Curtis never gave me tickets to see Boy George at the 90's...i would've never entered some look-a-like contest...and if i never entered that look-a-like contest...i most undoubtedly would've never up-chucked on the BOY!

it's rare to meet someone whom you've looked up to all yer life or to meet someone who's inspired yer destination in life...i've met them both

10 years would pass before i would cross paths with Curtis again...a few months later...i had heard Curtis had gone to the glittered stage in the sky

i still think about Curtis from time to time when i slap on my war paint fer the stage...(though it's been sometime...but don't fret kittens...i'm still very much alive) and wonder if he wishes he never told me what he did?

then i think he'd just say  "guuurl...you look SICK!"

now get off my dress!