i believe that it was the cool sadistic style'ns of Ferry Homo's holiglazed
classic "(there's no place like a) homo for the cantankerous holidays" that tasted more like a dry martini with a splash of regret but with an agnostic appreciation for a bitch slap sandwich...as long as they provided some lubricational desert of course
there are so many things to be thankful for this blister'n holiday season
with all that we've had to endure thus far this year after all...fer instance...i'm completely thankful that we no longer have to deal with the fact that no matter how much lipstick the deplorables and repuglicunts put on a mentally deranged pig...eventually...it will be sent straight to the slaughterhouse no later than jan 20th
beyond thankful that SPAM is more than just a 4 letter word when yer pinch’n yer pennies fer a bountiful feast of 1 just cuz the damn stimuless check won't arrive in time
and completely thankful that my reoccur'n dream date with the 80's David Hasselhoff was all just an unmanageable nightmare
BUTT beside all that...
it made me reflect on all the other skankidy skanks i've come across...
though ironically i've never had to cum across them skankfully...like that one time i had lost my first job in the Minne-Apple in the winter of 1991(due to no ones fault but my own...and i own it...so shut-up!) when i made a desperate call to a friend back home who said this guy that looked like Robert Smith from the CURE...
only with gutter breath and an under bite like a Gamorrean guard...had seen pix of me and thought i was "totally hot" (well DUH!) and that he would drive up from Laverne & Shirley land to get me and i could crash with him...his sister and his 1 year old nephew and of course i said yes since i was in no position to negotiate any terms at this juncture in the road
unfortunately...he failed to mention that his sister was a crack addled stripper at some 5 and dime joint who constantly neglected to attend to her cry'n child when she'd get home from the stage while he was try'n to score the latest designer drug that would go with his designer food stamped ensemble
so i helplessly took on the role of reluctant babysitter fer the baby's sake til i could figer out a way out
the only credit i can dole out fer him from this entirely frighten'n experience
into lucifer's pit was the fact that he constantly stroked my ego (which i desperately needed at the time) and got me a model'n audition fer a major agency who was hunt'n down models in Milwaukee to work fer my all time fav-o-rit designer JEAN PAUL GAULTIER who had just designed the entire
BLONDE AMBITION TOUR fer the
QUEEN...kittens...i nearly died!
i got a call back 3 days later but by then i had had enough of my current live’n situation and my OCD kicked into over-drive so i moved in with some relatives in the next burb over where i was given the hypothetically snoreville question "would u ever sleep with this guy?" (who just happened to be on the cover of the Milwaukee print at the time) and though i probably snapped back with somethin' like "i wouldn't suck his lousy dick if i was suffocate'n and his balls were full of oxygen" i probably wouldn't have said no to a free facial cuz my biological clock was tick'n fer a lick'n
then she flips open the paper and reveals my hot headlined lover to me...
well...needless to say...i had nothin' to worry about...he didn't like white meat anyways...so i left back to the land of 9,999 bottoms!
a couple weeks later i was tracked down thru a mutual friend that i had
met down there thru my skank mistake...tell'n me the courts were try'n to track me down to testify against the brother and sister who had inadvertently...on one of their many drug fueled nites...had each given the baby adult nyquil to stop it from cry'n...and unfortunately...it had...but i could not nor would not go back!
move'n on to my next nightmare roughly 10 years later...i got fixed up on
a blind date with this doctor...thru a back stabber i once knew years ago...that i said yes to cuz i swore i would never suffer thru another horrible set-up as long as i lived...but only agreed to it cuz this doc had "the looks" "the luxury" and quite frankly the luck of the draw that i had agreed to go out with him (even though secretly...i wanted to be a doctor's wife...who doesn't?) so he picked me up in his flashy penis envy on wheels and whisked me away to some over priced eatery i would've never stepped foot in but since he was foot'n the bill i thought...WHY NOT?
everything seemed to be goin along swimmingly fer a total blind set-up
he could carry on a conversation without try'n to break his neck pose'n like some sorta egyptian hieroglyphic try'n to discretely read the income'n texts i could hear go off...i mean he was a doctor after all so i sorta would'a understood...but as i was tell'n him that i had gotten tickets to see CHER's 100th "farewell" tour at the time...the waitress was lay'n down our orders in front of us...so i continued and simply asked him "are you goin to CHER?"
you could almost hear a pin drop as he stared deep into my bedroom
brown eyes with this absolute annoyed and astonished look on his face...as if i was ask'n him fer the keys to his pathetic porsche or the pin number to his ATM card...so without hesitation i changed the topic...suffered thru an almost quiet dinner before he basically threw me outta his car and fled the scene
turns out a week later...i ran into the back stabber who set me up on this shit show and told him how the doc got all weirded out when i asked him if he was goin to CHER and apparently because our dinner was bein placed at the same time i had asked about the concert...he thought i was ask'n him to share his dinner with me...OMFG...gimme a fuck'n break!
that would be the last time that i'd EVER accept an invitation thru a friend
well...unless it was a Wentworth Miller of "PRISON BREAK" fame set-up...meeeeouch!!! ps...Peetrinella...xmas is come'n soon...you have my absolute permission to stray from "the list" (insert wink here)
not that i had faired any easier myself mind you...especially the latest
potential failure that i had periodically connected with via text or talk over the past 20 years roughly that i had initially met on skankywhores.com...not to be confused with skankyhoars.com of course...that i finally decided to break down cuz i needed a break today with the current covid crisis take'n it's toll on my soul...so i decided to take a leisurely road trip this particular fall afternoon to northern MN and meet up with him face to face...to finally face my fears
of course by the time i had arrived 2 1/2 hours later i started to get a feel'n in my boner that this was a mistake and that i outta just turn around and high tale it back to the comforts of my quaint lil shitbox...unfortunately...i decided to give myself an Ogilvie home lobotomy that i left in my car and decided to carry on...i mean i made it this far...what's the worse that could happen?
though he still sorta resembled his image i remembered from meet'n him
roughly 15 years earlier at the slutoon in the Minne-Apple fer the most part as he greeted me at the door like a proper whore and to be fair...time is like a clock in my heart...though he still was no Michael Scofield but i told my OCD to pipe down or he was gonna spend the rest of the nite in the trunk
he wanted to show me the build'n he was gonna turn into his coffee shop
that was down the street from his place that i possibly was goin to be the mgr and entertainment centerpiece at...which i was more than happy to consider after 30 years of goin no where in the Minne-Apple...unfortunately as i stepped inside his property i was kissed by mother nature's tears and would approximately spend the next 2 1/2 hours help'n him staple gun plastic to the ceil'n so we didn't have to run between the rain drops...i mean really...i had already properly bathed myself in calgon's cool bouquet just a couple hours earlier...i was in no mood to put up with this shit!
as the sun slowly started to set in the west i knew in my head that if i was
gonna leave this now somewhat bad impression he bestowed upon me...i would have to do it immediately since i don't have the best nite vision...but after a quick match with my OCD & ADD...i decided to take my chance with this possible STD...cuz it can't get any worse...can it?
back at his home he gave me the proverbial tour that one would give when
a new guest arrives...first impression was that it was very shabby sheik to me but still a much needed work in progress...though as he lead me down into the sub basement of his basement in his humble lil shit shack...my conscious was scream'n at me to turn back and take yer chances drive'n in the dark
cuz up ahead i noticed a large hollowed out hole in the corner amongst the sea of broken cement...that i swear to CHER...if a lil white poodle scampered past me...i was gonna shit bricks!
he asked me if i wanted to join him fer a quick rendezvous at a clients
place to drop off a package and i thought oh...how neighborly it was of him to drop off some baked goods that could freeze beautifully in their frigid aire...only to find out i was on a dry run with Jesse fuck'n Pinkman and though i'm not some judgemental judy since this was his way to supplement his income durin' these try'n times (however...most likely this was his main source of income even before all the shit hit the covid fan) damn i wished i hadn't scolded my instincts earlier
cuz a couple of hours later...2 more "clients" would show up...that he sold
to me as Andrew Christian models but turned out to be more like fruit of the loom burn-outs who barely had a full set of pearly whites between 'em together...before bein spontaneously karaoked to by Miss Meth 2020 a lil while later...needless to say...i wasn't too damn happy with myself at all that nite!
by morn'n i had decided then and there that i would NEVER EVER take
a road trip to meet a potential failure without 3 forms of ID...their drug screen clearance and a down payment fer my therapy...so thank yer skank from a socially acceptable distance this holiglazed season
and GET OFF MY DRESS!
