FROSTED FLAKERS pt.2

who amongt us out there has ever had that utterly uncomfortable feel'n

that you feel personally responsible fer the demise of all the Catherine Martin's of the world known simply as the "Karens" of today? (yea...me either) i'm not point'n any fingers...just take'n a poll...that's all! if yer lost...click here fer pt 1 cuz i ain't repeat'n my mistakes...again!

and now the excrutiate'n concussion to FROSTED FLAKERS pt.2

it would take me roughly a year later before i decided it was time to clean

my love shack shit shack from all that bad chi that had been linger'n around me fer far too long...and decided to go on my 1st actual date that i wanted to actually follow thru with

everyone knows when they think there's a possibility with a person of interest...you pull out yer rule book and just go from there...and this one seemed to fit my profile...he had the looks....charm...that wrinkled twinkle

 in his eyes that made me wanna know more (i am a sucker fer a set of cool blue iris's after all) to keep his anonymity safe...i'll just use what he said who he has been compared to before as a visual aid...and i gotta say...it's pretty damn accurate...anyways...where was i?...oh yea...the only thing miss'n from him was the back handed sammich compliments or glassy eyes that i seem to mentally get attracted to...he was just way too nice and dare i say "normal"...this was all new unfamiliar territory to me...so we continued to have non verbal chatter via text fer a week or so til we finally decided to have an ACTUAL verbal conversation...

somethin' that a large portion of the gen Y'ers and gen Z'ers see as a concept that they just can't completely comprehend unless you first follow them on tiktok...twitter..and instagram..."like" and leave them a lobotomized non judgemental comment so that they can brag to all their other non socially inept friends who wanna march fer the bann'n of tv series from...

the sexually flirtatous...homosexually stereo typed story lines of
"THREE'S COMPANY"

to the the sexually flirtatous...homosexually stereo typed story lines and racially profiled pre BLM series with that ONE white guy
 "IN LIVING COLOR"
(ummm you can insert laugh here without popp'n a prozac and organize'n a march on the state capital...m'kay?)

date #1 was at my palace...since he said he didn't have a tv yet at home...

so we watched one of my all time fav movies "MURIEL'S WEDDING" since he had never seen it before...and i could basically recite it word fer word at this point...but trust me Muriel...

"i was not terrible"...i pondered whether or not to have this be the 1st movie since some might interpret it as a "sign" of panic or desperation...but 2 tears in the bucket...mutha fuck it!

the alternative i'da rather watched was "THE TEXAS CHAINSAW 

MASSACRE": THE BEGINNING" then i remembered 1st dates are all about give'n memorable first impressions...and i didn't want him think'n i was some sorta ax wield'n homocidal maniac wish'n he'd packed his can of mace (well not yet anyways)

or wish'n he'd make a deal and gone with what was behind door number 2 instead

there was alot of saliva swapp'n and heavy pett'n at the conclusion of the

movie i can confirm...but no dignity was lost nor were any unmentionables covered in pearl necklaces

by date #2...i was summoned to his palace...which luckily...was within my

 drive'n radius...walk'n up to his perfectly sculptured yard...we talked more about this than that...that really was just the typical filler conversation on a 2nd date...and he was the perfect hostess too...he served me brown rice and tofu on a bed of lightly sea salted kale an exotic beer...and we talked alot more...and as the modular furniture faded into the nite sky...he started kiss'n me...like i hadn't been kissed in years (it's in my rules book under the chapter "slipp'n down the saliva slide too soon") then all of a sudden...off slid our dignity and i was oddly summoned by the faint sounds of Miss Bernhard...chant'n in the back of my head...while in his bed...

"stop! do you have any rubbers? while yer at it...could you make it 2?...and i would feel just a little bit better if you would apply some spermicidal  jams and jellies to the area"...i will not confirm nor deny if any sorta broken rules of fornication may or may not have happened at this point durin' the nite...you just go ahead and fill in the blanks with yer own dirty lil thoughts

finally date #3 had ultimately arrived as planned...and he planned fer us to

view "FINDING NEVERLAND" since he had gotten his tv and dvd set up

seriously though "FINDING NEVERLAND"? how about find'n a bar 1st? 

or at the very least a restaurant with some socially acceptable and very distanced atmosphere...this COVID life was kill'n me...i mean...i ain't pick'n sides but i'm totally intrigued by this whole melodrama between Depp...his millions and that gold digg'n harlet he unfortunately felt the need to marry fer some ungodly reason...cuz in my sadistically pleasant fantasy world...

Johnny would still be married to Winona...live'n in my hometown of Winona...with me as their personal assistant and manager of the most luxurious trailer park in all the land...on weekends we'd all get together on my 70's inspired lanai...sipp'n on jalepeno mules play'n canasta in our Gaultier onesies...laugh'n about what could have been...but was never meant to be...though i can say with all honesty...i melted...even if i wasn't really a fan of this Depp adventure

his hands were all over me like an octopus outta water the whole time...

which i guess meant he was sorta into me...unless it was due to some sorta nervous tick disorder he had and just fergot to take his meds...either way...i'll admit...it was nice

once the movie was over...it was time to take his dogs for a walk...and as i felt more comfortable with him...i began to unfold more parts of my past

since it was past due...but i noticed an instant change in his demeanor when i spoke briefly of my unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe career...an all to familiar feel'n that flows like a flood of apparent flaws thru me...now mind you...as much as i was try'n on these new flirty slacks that i haven't put on fer some time...i was in NO WAY ready to call it quits with my single life or memorize the lyrics to "I DO I DO I DO" by ABBA (even though i've practiced it plenty of times durin' one of my many highway car concerts) but at this point i just knew the storm was about to hit the brakes over my disclosure once the dogs were back home

the nite would end with that uncomfortable kiss you would give an elderly

 incontinent relative you haven't seen in ages...who fergot to put the choppers back in their mouth

well...at this point...i figer'd i had no need to spend my benjamins call'n...

 Miss Cleo fer any future advice...the write'n was on the wall...and by late nite the follow'n day...i would receive that "it's not you...it's me" text...somethin' a spineless jelly fish would send...cuz you know...person to person is outta the ?...pretty much say'n nothin' i haven't heard before...which is why it didn't shock me much at all...plus i'm not gonna waste my time try'n to decipher whether he may or may not have meant somethin' else via his text...

so to save face of course...i would respond with the stale mate refried crap on toast response "yea...friends are fine" text...which is what i thought that's all we were to begin with anyways...though realistically we both know it'll never come to that in the end

cuz all of a sudden...a light bulb popped on in my head and it was Miss Hobbs tell'n me exactly what i needed to hear

i seriously hold no ill will towards him at all...cuz he really was a sweet guy

and as per Avril...he to would make it into a sweet song...but sweets cause cavities...and who needs another mental dental bill? i could say i certainly hope he finds what he's look'n for...but why?

i have absolutely no regrets with anyone i've ever fancied thus far in my

love life...even as much of a struggle as it might have been in the 1st place with any of them...i just remind myself...i'm not yer bitch...don't lay yer shit on me and soldier on til it's time fer my metamucil martini's and Matlock marathons after my 3rd help'n of lime jell-o in the home

i'll just file this whole experimental experience under "don't distress"

just GET OFF MY DRESS!

FROSTED FLAKERS pt.1

i was a big fan of that chemically enhanced mouthful of confectionery fun

 marinate’n in utter juice that was utterly disgust’n as were most of us that grew up with that fuck'n hypnotize'n tigers roar in the 80's...turns out though that they weren't all that fuck'n grrrrreat after all...since i ended up gett'n 8 damn cavities from O.D.'n on em and fall'n into a complete confectionery coma once a week durin' my tenderly traumatic teen years...you'd think i'da learnt my lesson after the 3rd bowl

when it comes to date'n a potential failure...that could very well turn into yer future failure...cuz let's be real here...you only really got'em on loan...since...well death is inevitable...so there's not really an effective "how to" handbook on how to keep them in yer clutches ferever and ever

 it doesn't matter whether yer some back comb'n...booze guzzle'n breeder...in daisy dukes too sizes too small...puff'n on a 2 pack of Marlboro golds on a daily basis...shoot'n out bastard children in the trailer park

like a willy water bug sprinkler system by the WHAM-O corporation...

or some highly pitched bitch that squeals like some blow monkey on meth...think'n they're the crem de'la'fem of the crop tops...but look more like a bloated blood sausage burst'n in their BVD's and need the jaws of life to escape them...constantly consume'n the spotlight on themselves...

either case...we all have our rules when hunt'n fer that special fucktard to call our very own

i used to find that when i was search'n fer a potentially interested failure...

i preferred someone closer to the top of the food chain...that would jump off a cliff...while chant'n my name when they would cum by see’n me...

though personally...i find just simply wait'n fer 3 simple dates before we're both make'n monkey love like greased up yorkshire pigs at the county fair...much more sufficient these days...keep in mind though...this doesn't mean i wanna move in or get married by date #4 or anything like that...

i mean seriously kittens...i don't have a lifetime membership discount card

to any local hardware store nor do i have any desire to own stock options at any move'n company...

i'll just leave that to the professionals

of course fer the purpose of this melodrama...most of my love life has been played out like any of  Avril Levigne's biggest hits...and eventually...

unfortunately...just like the album...it's completely over...mind you though...just like anyone else's regrets...you just have'ta pick yerself back up and eventually move on to the next one without any regrets to start...or at least i do anyways

i have never felt the need to rent a room in desperadoville...nor did i ever

practice my baton twirl'n in some pathetic pity parade charade just cuz society deems you used up and worn out at a certain age...nor do i desire the recipe to bake that tired and crusty "oh don't worry...you'll find someone out there someday" pity cake at 425 degrees

yes i can agree when it's good...it's sooo good...but let's get real here if i

may...it's way more fun to spend yer hard earned benjamins on the one person you know that'll really appreciate you fer you...and that is YOU!...without have'n to get permission from yer annoy'n pathetic half...half the time...and especially when you add other expensive shit buckets into the equation that have ruined yer waistline beyond belief and milk'd yer piggy bank dry just about every other week til yer kick'n up daises!

i've done my fair share of charitable acts thru-out my love life...date'n from

 thee emotionally unstable in my late 20's...also known as my "steroided stallion"

thee socially retarded in my middle 30's...also known as my "mister fister sister"

thee chemically dependent in my early 40's...also known as my "manipulative methhead"

and thee emotionally unavailable in my later 40's...also know as my "yet to be determined" if it really is worth one more round of invest'n any more time with anyone by the time i hit my 50's

after 3 decades of this...i didn't need to date any more judgemnental judy's

and decided it was time to rethink about me fer a change and dip back into the insane single lane...oh don't take that the wrong way...each and everyone of those frosted flakers of failure from my past did mean somethin' to me at some point obviously since they were with me...and i'll admit...i do...albeit very little...hold a very small portion to be polite to the demise of it all

but just like a carton of eggs...they all had their expiration date apparently!

so i figer'd it was time to save money on therapy and decided to pack up

those things that many refer to as "feelings" and shove em to the back of my limbic system in my cranium...hit the road and just pump and dump fer a while...safely of course...when needed

tune in next week fer the excrutiate'n concussion of FROSTED FLAKERS

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

CELEBRIAL BALLSY

much like meth to a flamer past his prime...wrapped in a rainbow glittered

balenciaga blouse from 1998...that they purchased from a bogo sale at some discount designer store in 2008...parade'n around any give'n dance floor on a late friday nite...in any give'n urban metropolitan non heterosexual establishment as some boisterous alcoholic evangilist...while shiny aluminum flakes would dance in unison to the beat of the colored lights rain'n from the ceil'n up above to the popper crusted floor down below...

as CHER's #1 remixed synthesized anthem from the same year the blouse was born (adorned with a fiber optic head dress of course) once again takes over the crowd and commands them to question themselves after sipp'n from the cocktail that their next door dick wrangler they just met in the boys room who conviently slipped a roofie into as it lay all alone on the roof of the urinal they were occupy'n...stare'n into their gin soaked eyes...melodically ask'n them with one satanically raised eyebrow "do you BELIEVE in life after love?" make'n them reminince about how they once were the cream of the crop in their tiny tube top only 10 years earlier...

BUTT of course...

are now just a shattered...sheltered...shitfaced mess try'n to impress anyone that will give them a mere moment of validation on any give'n social media platform durin' this COVID crisis

well...every year as we loose our grip on reality along with our utter mind...

there is ALWAYS gonna be that one meth riddled attention deficit disorder who still thinks everyone is absolfuckinglutely mezmorized by that shirtless pile of steriods in daisey dukes prance'n on top of the center square in the middle of the dance floor flapp'n his neon flags like a sexually starved butterfly amongst the sea of tweeked out STD's...well kittens...insert this years official A.D.D douche rag here

why oh why do i feel like i'm completely forced into write'n about this shit?

i know this is just a C-O-M-P-L-E-T-E distraction that WILL NEVER come

to fruition...only cuz of their abysmal rate'ns...much like their morals...have been tank'n like the titanic...i mean seriously? as if even thee most drug induced coma would warrant such legitimacy...seen as how he's pretty late at gett'n his name in the ring fer the runn'n anyways to validate himself as bein' completely serious

don’t even get me started on his “runn'n on the birthday party“ ticket...

the only birthday party i’m interested in vote’n for involves cake & some killer clowns stripp'n to that hokey pokey circus theme and make'n balloon animals...PERIOD!

and of course no campaign would be complete without a limited edition

fragrance that smells like vanilla bean...sandlewood and urine...sold exclusively at wal-mart and the dollar store or by click'n the link in their insta bio fer a $5 sample...why not!

it's a good thing to that KW received that PPP small biz loan to help bail 

out his "billion dollar" brand so he can finally begin production on their new ego riddled mega shithole in Wyoming as presumably the new WH shithole...should he make it to the finish line of course (insert laugh here)

PUHLEEZ...we all can recall how Miss Kankersoredashian desperately 

needed that 2 part "wedd'n" fiasco just to keep those brain dead couch potatoes from jump'n ship from her brand not too long ago...can't we?

do you really wanna waste even an attempt to comptemplate a vote fer 

someone who believes "slavery was a choice 400 years ago"

or someone that has ties to some over payed CASPER crusader that is competely anti LGBTXYZPDQ
(i'm sorry...i didn't miss anyone?)

i'll put down 100 to 1 odds that this is ALL just a publicity ploy to help out

his flail'n popularity that he hasn't experienced ever since he rapped on the QUEEN's dance floor hit "BEAT GOES ON" (w/ PHARRELL WILLIAMS) from 2008's smash album and tour fer "HARD CANDY" 

and to help out that mentally deranged IMPEACHED FOR LIFE sociopathetik lie'n corrupt orange anal warted sow by splitt'n the black vote from Biden...period!

that is it!
now GET OFF MY DRESS!