narcoleptic antiseptic advice

ever since i became that regrettable drug bunny fer the government...

fer a boat load of benjamins back in the early middle 90's...i swear i have sold my soul and sleep deprivational patterns to Satan himself...with a minimum of 2 to 3 hours of sheep count'n on a nitely basis...til i'm usually awoken by some mongolian warlord try'na rip my heart out

well...this one particular insomniatic morn'n while camp'n out in bed

listen'n to the neighborhood hookers outside my bedroom window exchange'n STD recipes...i hopped on my cell to check what life threat'n pleas of "why can't it be ME?" by the throngs of desperado's that i may have missed thru-out my inconsistent R.E.M's...when i was summoned by an early morn'n urge to call Miss CLEO to get the winn'n lotto numbers and find out what color my aura would be fer the week...when all of a sudden i heard a ding from a potential stalker message'n me from a popular non denominational site of balls out blasphemy
(the follow'n is the actual unedited conversation kitten) 

of course i understood his desperate urges...though i've never experienced this amount of urgency before too be honest...i was in zero mood to pollinate anything this particularly peculiar morn'n...let alone someone on the corner of desperado avenue and hooker junction

all of a sudden...i felt the presentational ghost of DEAR ABIGAIL VAN BUREN possess'n my freshly shaven nubile body...so i followed it up with an appropriately inquisitive & perfectly polite response...

though i'm no fan of join'n in on the PC parade...in this case...i figered it should apply if he was gonna apply fer such a position 

it's true...i grew up with Marlin and the kingdom...up until the great scandal of 1982

 when they were busted fer bein' the 1st "reality" show to capture'n a bear in the florida swamps (that was later found to be shot in the ass with a dart gun and placed there by the crew)

i only suggested this movie cuz it's the 1st one to come to mind that early in the AM hours that would help him get a sense of the lay of the land and what to expect

I-N-O-C-U-L-A-T-I-O-N-S...woo hoo hoo!

i swear...JACKIE BEAT or SHERRY VINE...listen up!...here's the title to yer new song...make it happen!

if any of the throngs of my universal kittens are feel'n extra charitable this week...why not do yer part...skip that mocha frappe pepperminty cuppa corporate sludge or that rusted needle of temporary volcanic happiness and help a QUEEN and her community here

but there were still a couple more things that i needed to clear up fer my gentleman caller sexually depraved delusional drugster before i started count'n sheep once again...

well...cuz my milky white flesh ain't gonna fool anyone...though who am i kidd'n...i'd suck a dr pepper just fer the taste of it 

i would never parTake in a parTy...

unless it involved a cake and a clown...period!

now get off my dress!

LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE: the stupid bowl chronicles pt. 3

if yer lost where this saturday nite special presentation is headed kittens...

 perhaps you might wanna start yer journey here...

then move onto last week's nauseate'n episode here

and now the excruciate'n sensationalized concussional finale to the:

edition of...

LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE: the stupid bowl chronicles

day 4 i received a text bright and early that morn'n that i would basically be

 whored out fer the entire day to ONE client only (which i was also told in train'n this is what i wanted cuz that meant B-I-G B-U-C-K-S by the end of the nite)

just like the day before...i arrived 15 minutes early but this time by 11:30 in the am hours...and said pimp showed up (with 2 kids...that i never gave any candy to...to get them inside the vehicle...just FYI) roughly 7 minutes past the scheduled pick-up...i could work much better with this tardiness of course since it was a bright and sunny morn'n...and i no longer felt like i would be traipse'n thru the tundra on HOTH

google wasn't much help to me as i couldn't find much on my new client...but what i surmised from the lil bit of Angela Lansbury snoop'n that i stumbled across...was that this walk'n AARP recipient...known as Stuart Posnock...must'a been some sorta hoity toity CEO hotshot or some shit like that out west...cuz he didn't reek of any sorta NFL stuffy stiffer status quo at all (whew!)

1st stop would be ice fish'n on beautiful Lake Minnetonka...fer roughly 4 hrs...though i packed a lunch...i should'a never washed it down with a red bull so quickly...cuz that runs thru me like delicious diuretic

(if ya catch my drift...and not my draft)

stop 2 was off to the Mall of Hysteria fer a quickie...but trust me outta towners...it ain't ALL that!...you take ANY mall and multiply it by 4...and all yer gonna end up with is a gigantic petri dish of pink eye and Sodom and Gomorrah runway models

by nite fall...it was time to pick up the wifey and 3 more passengers fer dinner at Bar La Grassa...who i could'a swore was the equivalent to an over priced Anna Nicole knock-off...she had more plastic in her than a tupperware party at Our Sodomystic Sisters of Perpetual Petulance church bizarre...that kept referr'n to my client as "daddy"...which...of course we all know what that means...don't' we kittens?...if she lifts her heels to the heavens by nitefall...she'll gett'n a new mink in the morn'n

catch my drift?

afterwards it was a mad dash back to the LuMinn hotel fer a quickie...

ummmm...i mean costume change...then fly like the wings of a maxi pad...with his eldest daughter off to the Rolling Stone party at international market square...where the crème de la crème's collided with the crème de la femme's fer a nite of dance'n and prance'n...and if they had the remembered their roofie...perhaps a lil romance'n in the boys room...

luckily my phone was charged up enough...

so i could hunt fer some bottom of the barrel Larry Darryl and/or Darryl within walk'n distance while i waited...why not! 

my pleasantly delightful and courtesy guests were ready to call it quits

 30 minutes to midnite...so i scurried them off before their stage couch turned back into a problematic pumpkin...and from the looks of things...they were very ready to scamper back to their beds...while visions of stock markets and security investments danced in their heads...but not before ask'n me if i would honor their request to be their driver AGAIN the follow'n day...SOOOO...not that i was look'n fer a hand out or anything

BUTT...i was...

i figered since i had clocked in and was cater'n to their colons fer 12 full hours...that i should be rewarded a tiny queen's ransom...handsomely

BUTT...

all i got was another fuck'n chance at catch'n the flu...via the ol' hand system once again

hmmm...i hadda think...what're my chances that maybe...just  M-A-Y-B-E...that they were gonna tip me out after the follow'n day?

 well...after careful consideration...i of course had to graciously and respectfully decline their request

and hoped that his wife's walk'n charge card's botoxed mug and her injected beyond belief pole hole flapper would explode like the death star at 30,000 feet...while he would inherit a prolapsed anal entrance that would require a bungee chord to keep it from scrape'n on the damn sidewalk

even though i like pina colada's...i didn't feel like gett'n caught in the rain...

so i visited my midnite at the oasis and called it a day...and realized that the next day was day #3 of actual drive'n (even though it was already day 4)...and 3 is my lucky number...so here's hope'n huh

before i shut my cornea's i heard a ding on my cell inform'n me of not 1

BUTT 2 clients 

my first was Peter somethin' who was president of the Seattle Seahawks i speculated from skimm'n quickly thru his google bio...but since i wanted nothin' to do with our current #45...he was unfortunately just guilty by

association...though client number 2 on the other hand made me feel like i was move'n on up...to the top...to that delux apartment in the skyyyyy!

cuz it was none other than hot chocolate himself...DEION SANDERS...and even though i had heard

of him thru the grapevine from time to time...

i was totally Alicia Silverstone about him... but he was beyond my sexpectations when he greeted me at the door and gave me a firm handshake & asked to sit in the front seat (i said "please...let me get that for you")

i turned the radio on...SADE "smooth operator" i think it was...and lemme tell you...there was no need to ask...as i turned up the heat on his seat...that turned the conversation into a 360 as he rested his massive palm on my delicately chilled patella...and as our front seats slowly faded downward to the back seats...

the natives inside my head were beat'n their drums to the "rhythm is gonna get you" by GLORIA ESTEFAN and the MIAMI SOUND MACHINE...then all of a sudden i felt the essence of a young SANDRA BERNHARD encapsulate'n my aura...

"i knew then and there i wanted him...i wanted him inside me like i've never wanted anyone before...but all of a sudden i said STOP!...do you have any rubbers? would you mind putt'n one on? while you're at it...make it 2!...and i would feel just a little bit better if you would apply some spermicidal jams and jellies to the area!"

(insert record scratch here)

wait'a cotton pick'n minute here kittens...did i just just get whacked...

in the head by a fly'n window pane try'na runaway from the twisted farm help cuz they tried to poke me in my pinafore?...uh huh...i don't think so....I FUCK'N QUIT!...

cuz i was not about to spend one more wasted minute in suspended animation...try'na to figer out if i MAY or MAY NOT get more than a handshake...or even get one AT ALL fer that matter!!! i don't care how much of a hot chocolatey...finely dressed brutha he was...

i'm thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...i don't have to put up with this shit!...i will name you and shame you...just to save some other mobile monkey from have'n to waste their time...when they can make more work'n the streets in the sheets

i dropped of my keys and picked up my dignity 3 days before the end of...

my scheduled contract...and in the end...i never did get it in mine...or the 1000's of promised benjamins neither...all i really got outta this whole damn experience were the bragg'n rights of say'n i was the one who rejected the right to service DEION SANDERS and this lil bitty memento of how much i will ALWAYS loathe sporting events from this day forward...so let me start the bidd'n at $1000...do i hear 2?

someday just maybe it'll make it's way into a lifetime movie of the week...

starr'n MARKIE POST as the down & almost out of her mind unintentionally internationally perform'n illusionist of her own universe...just try'na claw her way to a top...even though she was never really a bottom!

now get off my dress!

ps...since we're on the subject of stupid bowl...can we talk about that half time show fer a minute?...though i luved me some JT...(back in the day)...i needed a morphine drip to get even halfway thru his "performance"

(hi...it's N'SYNC on the line...lemme patch em thru to you...pronto!)

ppss...i seriously wanted someone to throw...

PRINCE's rott'n corpse up on stage 3 minutes into JT's mylanta moment
(the only redeemable moment was to see PRINCE's symbol blanket the downtown of the Minne-Apple

PPPSSS...it still DOES NOT BEAT...

thee all time greatest halftime performances of ALL TIME by THE QUEEN
that still gives me the chills today when i watch it!