OH SHIT!!!!

with the recent pain in the A double snakes i've hadda deal with in regards to my automotive shitbox shitmobile and shitbox...it's not really all that bad

lemme tell you about an insanity story that began one morn'n a while back

wake'n up from a debaucherous nite one weekend ...after flush'n my dignity down the drain...to a slashed tire...though i was a bit pissed...eh!...what'dya do but get it take'n care of...right?

i called my on again...off again...back on again...but soooo gonna be off again by the time this story would come to an end i'm sure...pain in the A

double snake hole drunktard friend…lett'n him know i'd be unable to pick him up cart his drunk A double snakes around all day...well...cuz my tire got in a scuffle with Freddy Krueger apparently in the middle of the nite...so he'd have find another mode of transportation idiot to put up with him fer the day

as i'm waste'n my breath on the phone try'n to decipher his gibberish while gett'n dressed...i smell the fresh scent of highly toxic molten plastic come'n

from my air conditioner even though it wasn't on...hmmm?...i immediately pulled my Angela Lansbury cap off the shelf and decided to do a lil investigate'n and ran outside my garden apartment shitbox...i mean my quaint lil shitbox...only to notice a sleep'n bag on fire on the car next to mine...

i'm think'n...is it already that time of year fer the annual sacrificial sleep'n bag to the park'n lot gods?...huh...i never got the memo it had been bumped up cuz i seriously thought that it wasn't fer a few more months

i went back inside to call my friend back to keep him abreast of the situation

no more than roughly 3 minutes goes by and there'd be a loud knock on my window by the air conditioner...i'm think'n...DAMMIT!!...were the park'n lot gods not pleased with the sacrificial offer'n they'd just received?

 

so i threw back on my Angela Lansbury cap and decided to have a lil one on one exclusive sit down with the park'n lot gods about interrupt'n my day...but couldn't cuz now my back door (and i ain't talk'n about my plump A double snakes) was smothered in a cloud of black smoke

WOW!!...did the sleep'n bag give the gods indigestion?...or did i just wake up from a bad dream…in somewhere land over the far right side of the rainbow…and actually live in war torn Iraq which was now under attack by insurgents?

i heard people shuffle'n around on the 3rd floor...so i threw on my burka...

 by that...i mean...my over sized "FRANKIE SAYS RELAX" 100% cotton tee...cinched it with an under stated gold lame belt and slipped into some beige brooks brothers flip flops…and raced up the steps to find the crowd gather'n around the window...look'n in awe at the stone'n below…i mean…smoke'n below...

from a car now engulfed in flames...roughly 10 feet from my shitbox on wheels barely hold'n together by duct tape and a prayer and directly in front of my shitbox palace window

a lone fire truck enters the park'n lot within seconds...

and i'm reminded...wait...it's almost time fer the annual firemen's ball…must remember to go shopp'n fer somethin sassy and sheer
 (but back to the insanity)

at this point...i'm a lil nerved out (cuz most of the gathered residents are apparently not friends with mr. under arm deodorizer...like me)…and race back into my place fer fresher air and try and figer out what i had to do?

save my priceless cd/dvd collection?...my 80's musical performer'n doll collection that i'm just die'n to have a tea party with some lucky geek from SCRUFF one of these days (and yes i'm not ashamed that i actually admit to own'n ALL of these...

(come on kittens... porn is sooo 1990's after all)
my incredibly insane platform collection?...or my oddly bizarre metal lunchbox collection?

hmmm decisions…decisions...by now the fresh air in my shitbox was now consumed by the smoke pour'n it's way threw my air condition'n system

i went thru this once before in my lifetime...don't think i really wanna rehash those memories again...so i quickly ran outside as fast as i could...only to be greeted by 5 hulky fireman...(talk about a mentos moment)...so glad i had a hidden altoid in my pocket

 (well actually only 4...one was with mullet...a bit mannish...with a hint of patchouli oils...that’s all i'm say'n)

my landlord asked me if i had seen anything strange this morn'n...hmmm?

besides a slashed tire...have'n my fresh air consumed by toxic non breathable air...well cuz of the ritual bathers on the 3rd floor…and a pillow of smoke now pillage'n my palace of eBay auctions and fine collectibles...no...everything seems just peachy

what i figered was just a total random fight between Freddy and my tire...

now my landlord decides to put on his Perry Mason blouse and grill me on the witness stand in the park'n lot...ask'n if i had pissed anyone off…(by not gett'n them off) cuz…apparently to him…i should know how homo's can be haters when ya don't call them back...(i was gonna suggest he redirect his anger towards his mother) but i wasn't in the mood fer a piece of paranoia cake that early in the morn'n…my shitbox was bein' molested by chemically enhanced toxic smoke...so i let it go

shortly there after…as the smoke and firefighters faded into the mist…

a hot red headed 20 somethin' emerged from the back door look'n a bit frazzled…and speak'n in a strong "a dingo ate ma baby" accent…helped solve the mystery of the insanity that i witnessed that morn'n

so i guess crocodile dunce-dee was cook'n a pizza that caught on fire…

and instead of throw'n water on the flame'n pizza...apparently in the land deown unda...they try and smother it out with a sleep'n bag that they use as their bed...not realize'n that the situation may become combustable...so he did what any tweeked out twat would do and ran the sleep'n bag to the other end of the build'n to throw it out the 3rd floor window...and sparks from the sleep’n bag ignite his car on fire

oh PUHLEEEEEEEEEZ!

after chomp'n into yer hot pocket too quickly after take'n a toke from yer smurf bong...the pizza sauce had infused itself onto the roof of yer mouth...you unscrewed yer pipe and started swish'n yer mouth out with bong water to cool the burn...then accidentally knocked over said bong and an lonely ember rolled onto yer sleep'n bag cause'n the flames to start...and you were too fried outta yer mind to think rationally...so you ran it thru the hallways to hide the evidence just in case the deportation police were called in cuz you fergot to renew yer green card...then you tossed it out the window...and that's how the damn chaos started!

though...i still never did figer out how my tired got slashed...eh!...oh well

get off my dress!