HUNGER GAMES pt.1

there's nothing like wake'n up at the ass crack of dawn to drive 27 minutes

approximately just to play patty cake...patty cake...please don't puke on my Prada pumps with some precious lil puke bucket in rush hour traffic...

only to be greeted by a military parade of about 10 armored franks in tanks in front of yer apartment build'n...however that's exactly what happened this particular morn'n

BUTT there it is...

so close yer eyes and picture it kittens...this time let's just go with the 16th

century...why not! scattered with fair maidens...bumble'n sheriffs and a witty acherist fox with his band of merry men who could shoot an arrow that could dance thru the air like the precision of a russian ballet that stole from the rich and gave to the poor...

awwwwwwwwwww!

now let's hop in our delorean and fast forward to 3 centuries later...shall we?

where corruption and chaos ensued across a centralized area of the US...

thanx in part to thee most famous duo and i ain't talk'n about Orelean & Jarvis Hufflenagel and his terrify'n tambourine act...

no...i speakith of one Bonnie and Clyde...and their bank robb'n bandits...who terrified the country in the 1930's...steal'n from the banks and basically not give'n back to the those suffer'n from the great depression...which seriously...i'da give'n em a pass if they had...banks are FDIC insured fer that sorta shit anyways!

and of course who couldn ferget about Breathless Mahoney dance'n fer her dolla's under the clutches of Big Boy Caprice and his band of misfits in the early 90's

i myself also got caught up in the romance of the wild wild midwest...

back in summer of 1985 to be perfectly honest...simply outta sheer boredom one nite of course cuz SIMPLE MINDS damn video fer "don't you forget about me" was still the #1 video fer the 4th straight week on Mtv's top 20 video countdown in may of that year which i was like completely over it 3 weeks earlier...as you could imagine

totally hogg'n the spotlight from M's teenage crush ballad "CRAZY FOR YOU"

although it did knock out that annoy'n as fucklestix charity whiner "WE ARE THE WORLD" even if the song was fer a good cause...plus i just felt Miss LaToya was lyp-sync'n thee entire time

BUTT...again? F-O-C-U-S

anywho'z'll'ding....let's get back to the story

so my friend...we'll call him fer the purposes of anonymity...hmmmm...

gimme one sec...oh i know...how about X-a-v-i-e-r (even though he was far from bein' some sorta exotic brazillian adult entertainer)

he looked more like some pill popp'n alcoholic housewife with insomniatic issues...in acid wash jeans (hey it was 1985...don't be a judgmental judy) you remember he called me up frantically one even'n in the summer of  '85 and told me to high tale my plump and supple A double snakes out to his place...like pronto!

feel'n the urgency in his voice...i scurried up the steps to my bathroom

and reapplied my bonnie bell uncola...but totally cool lip smacker due to the fact that my lips were dry as fuck that particular even'n cuz of the barometric pressure in the air...or lack there of (i think) winged out my eyes with my jet black wet n wild eyeliner once again...rebuilt my bug shield with extra super hold aqua-net...

and hopp'd on my schwinn mobile (anise red) and flew like a hornet in heat to his home in Homer which was approximately a leisure 20 minute bike ride though i knew he wanted me there yesterday so i hadda pump up my cardio fer the even'n and fly thru the bike paths around lake Winona like a bat outta hell...

which...anyone grow'n up in the 80's on a hot humid nite in Winona knows NEVER to bike around the lakes unless you wanna be viciously attacked by an army of fish flies

once i reached the other end of the lakes...my entire bonnie bell uncola 

smacked lips were no longer cool but more like a sticky land'n strip and my aqua-netted bug shield looked more like a Pablo Pissed-off-Caso masterpiece with suicidal fish flies each harpooned by my sharp split ends (i was neither happy...nor hungry fer this adventure in the middle of the nite any longer)

by the time i reached my final destination...i noticed a vend'n truck in Rick's...i mean Xavier's driveway...his mother "Matilda" (more on her in another post) rented the upstairs of her house to a guy who worked fer the local vend'n machine company and apparently came home one even'n a bit inebriated and fergot to check if the doors of his vend'n truck

 were locked....so Xavier...always bein' a bit of a snoopy snop that he was...found out the renter fergot to lock the back doors of his truck...and when we opened the doors...we hit the mother fuck'n load of confectionery delights...

it was like a diabetics dream house inside!

thought my taste buds were more in tune with the dolly madison delights...

what normal 15 year old is gonna pass up the opportunity to have a school years worth of bribery fer the classroom fucktard to leave you alone 

as me...Xavier and his nephew and my bff at the time...that we'll just refer

to him as Big Lipps from here on out...flung open the massive twinkie embossed doors with all our might and jumped up inside the unlit truck in the still of that dark humid july nite...

i barely made it 2 feet inside before i ended up stubb'n my fake doc marten combat boot and flopp'n over on a heavy object that projectiled me to the front of the van so Xavier jumped out quick to grab a flashlight from Big Lipps ma's gold lame' colored pinto blow-about mobile to see what was block'n our stash of sugary satisfactions fer years to come that we of course planned on use'n as our get-a-way car 

once Xavier had assessed the situation with his roam'n flashlight...

he couldn't believe his eyes cuz we found somethin' so much more than what we thought we would EVER expect to...to all our surprise...

tune in next week fer the excruciate'n conclusion to HUNGER GAMES...

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

A ROAD LESS TRAVELED

now that the country has thawed out from the harsh winter and it's been 

well over a year since the whole cluster fucked pandemic paralyzed the planet...everyone's gotten a lil stir crazy at the drop of a hat lately and ready to bust loose once again so thankfully we've slowly started to soften the restrictions on life as we once knew it thanx largely in part to the current positive political climate and of course all the medical staff roll'n out the covid shots while most of us are still follow'n CDC guidelines

and with the school year finally come'n to a close right around the corner

it's that time once again to start think'n about whether to corral the kiddies and shipp'n em off to some cautionary summer camp with their fav-o-rit counselor to take care of em...

to become one with nature once again...enjoy'n blissful canoe rides goin outta bounds down the serene boundary waters of the Catskill Mountains

or take that long ass journey across the state lines dragg'n that colostomitic in-law who insists on dictate'n the entire journey from the back seat to some over priced eye sore themed park

BUTT...this isn't fer everyone!

if neither of these seem like viable options to you due to yer budgetary

constraints or yer worried about the socially retarded anal wart that doesn't know how to socially distance themselves properly on vacation...i've take'n the burden off yer weary lil wallet and scoured the informational highway fer some far less known but highly educational options fer you this summer

up first on my list of vacant vacation destinations is from a teeny tiny town

of insignificance in the middle of nowhere...smack dab in the southwest corner of some corn whack'n county in Iowa...made popular by the Hulu original movie "THE AXE MURDERS OF VILLISCA"

starr'n the late Conchata Ferrell of "ERIN BROCKOVICH" and "TWO AND A HALF MEN" fame

the "VILLISCA AXE MURDER HOUSE" became famous in 1912 after a family of 6 and their 2 dinner guests were hacked up like summer sausage by an axe wield'n homicidal maniac allegedly cuz of the goulash hotdish served that even'n was miss'n the top coat'n of string beans allegedly that IS STILL UNSOLVED to this very day and haunted by the families tormented souls!

so whether yer feel'n like a family full of sleuths... 

or just a gaggle of gays and their beards want'n to dance the nite away in a haunted house....make yer reservations today before everyone starts to turn this mystery murder house into an overall overkill!

if the midwest murders aren't exactly yer cup of tea...may i suggest move'n

out east to another infamous farmhouse that dealt with the occult that inspired the 2013 cult classic "THE CONJURING" and the multiple "ANNABELLA" spin-off''s

loosely based on the Perron family from the 70's that occupied this paranormal palace in the sleepy town of Harrisville Rhode Island that you can now book if yer really want'n to experience wicked wonders from the other side

my number 3 home on the list of somewhat hidden gems hidden away

deep in the majestic town of Perryopolis, PA that was featured in the 1991 psychotic thriller starr'n academy award winners JODIE FOSTER and ANTHONY HOPKINS...

that belonged to the fictionally brilliant psychotic serial kill'n transsexual Buffalo Bill was finally purchased in 2016 and eventually turned into an air B&B that you can now book fer overnite stays if you dare to immerse yerself into part of movie history...

no word if you'll be greeted by the original occupant of the residence however make sure to visit the gift shop to purchase yerself a lil sexy skin wrap fer those chilly nites and slather up in the many scents of Buffalo Bill's intoxicate'n lotions to keep yer skin from dry'n out

if the macabre is not part of yer restful repertoire...perhaps a fireside chat

as a sleuthful sodom and gomorrah with the local salacious salamanders meander'n within a 3 block radius on Grindr fer all those single laydee's who wanna live a day in the life of everyone's fav-o-rit 80's incontinent detective JESSICA FLETCHER from "MURDER SHE WROTE" 

may i suggest spend'n a nite in the rustic seaside town of Mendocino Village CA (though Jessica's actual fictitious place of residence was in Cape Cod, MA) you now can book a bed at though it'll set you back a pretty penny but it comes with a bottle of wine if you happen to choose to give up on yer sobriety...so YAY!

last and the least of all places to plunk down yer hard earned covid cash

that won't actually cost u a dime except fer the petrol...caffeine and corn nuts on the way there only cuz this abandoned "ghost town"  which is more like a "ghetto town" of tacky McMansions

that only popped up after the crash of the 2008 house'n market in Branson, MO that seriously is only really worth take'n a bunch of cool selfies at...play'n beer pong with yer buddies or just make'n yer porn debut!

well there ya have it kittens...so fuck the house of mouse this summer and

ferget about the hogwarts hideaway...try somethin' a lil different this year and GET OFF MY DRESS!

a WRINKLE...in time!

the very moment we take that slip and slide ride down the birth canal to be

greeted by all those annoyingly thunderous goo's and gushes in every nook and cranny from every granny Aiken's to the uncle Orlean's around the planet...we are told we're gett'n old and we as a society will go to whatever extremes to cling onto the past at any and all costs...regardless of the ramifications...unfortunately there is no magic wand nor fountains of youthful elixirs...

that will help turn back time...

to stop yer unfortunate age'n process rott'n corpse from become'n just a mere moment in someone's memory...

BUTT...there are options!

ever since i was a traumatized teenaged terror in a town full of total uptight

tit slinge'n fly trappers and pabst blue ribbon beer guzzle'n balance'n acts that frequented Roy's Little Nashville Bar kitty corner from the block i used to live on in some simple and small minded MN town...i made it my pre-unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe's life's mission not to tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen just to pour myself a cup of some damn ambition

though there have been many a queens thru-out the distance of time...

years before Madonna would become the queen of the dance floor...

BOY was the queen of london...

and FREDDY was the QUEEN of  'murica...

however...the only queen i truly got to personally know on a one to one

weekly basis...the queen of all clays who was my go-to to give a backhand sammich to father time while clean'n out my pores in that under stated off white tube topped off with her emerald green crown was QUEEN HELENE (however fuck that 33% more market'n scheme cuz it NEVER existed...it was just full of air)

of course this was mainly due to the barrage of magazine market'n and 

tv jingles that traumatized our teenage insecurities since we were already the leader of our own personally destructive pity parade of our own personally awkward looks and then there was that one episode of Phil Donahue on skin cancer that didn't help

i can remember some years later when i was forced out on my very own 

and started out my career as a beauty school drop-out...my all time fav-o-rit teacher Anna tell'n the class when it came to skin care to always moisturize...moisturize...moisturize then to switch up yer moisturizer every 3 months so yer skin would not get used to a routine much like a gym trainer would tell their client to switch up their work-outs every 3 months so their muscles won't plateau and i've pretty much stuck to that routine...though QUEEN HELENE and me have parted ways years ago thanx to technology

though i would be the worlds worst crack addict...cuz i hate needles

when i notice parts of me crack'n as i climbed the ladder of life...i'd search out fer the latest and greatest affordable lotions to help keep father time tap dance'n around me fer yet another year and fer the most part cuz i wasn't bake'n like bacon every summer since the 80's...eat'n a pretty clean lifestyle...find'n dirtier things to stick in my mouth besides the ass of a cigarette and work'n out off and on routinely...i've managed to fool the fools who thought i was a fool fer practice'n this lifestyle and now foolishly wish they had practiced my foolery

however...don't confuse that with me degrade'n yer groom'n habits or choices in life...we ALL make them and we ALL must life by them...i'm not impressed if you think i'm not 50 or if you think i look 150 nor do i care if you think i've had any work done...i own it...I AM 50 and still more fuck'n fabuless-than-the-goin-rate!

if yer insecurely comfortable use'n yer body as some experimental pin 

 cushion fer the latest botulistic jab putt'n yerself in debt just to make that perfect selfie that'll be ferever lost amongst the garbage piles of social media by next week...i say go fer it...we live in an alternate universe these days and anyways with the millions of downloadable beauty apps available at our finger prints we can all look like a fetus in a wig if we really want to...but don't wig out if you get called out in person...society has conditioned us to think that after the age of 20...florescent light'n IS NOT yer friend...after 30 back light'n IS NOT yer friend...after 40 overhead light'n IS NOT yer friend and once yer in yer golden age you outta just turn off the damn lights all together!

so one afternoon as i was hop scotch'n between all the diabetic paraders 

and fantastic sam hair disasters at some random eye sore mall while wait'n to get financially raped by yet another dipshitt'n dip stick’n mechanic...this adorably confused middle easternish Ariana fanniccino Grande thing stalk'n walkers outside some over priced skin care treatment enclosure try'n desperately to corral them inside had reluctantly put me under his spell by batt'n his butterfly lashes and give'n me a free sample of jack-off hand cream to get me inside to purchase some over priced delusional concoction to turn back time so of course i couldn't resist his ming ring and got all Dale Arden on his bubblicious A double snakes

now flattery at any age is always an ego booster fer anyone regardless

if you know they're lie'n thru their yellow stained meth teeth or not and trust me...he was spread'n it like a hooker would their legs fer a mink and a mansion and once inside his web of deception he pulls out a "new innovative cream" that says will help cure me of my crows feet...

ummmmm...why Blanche...have you gone blind?

now even though my ego needs no booster seat....my ego also needs no 

crows feet kill'n cream since...well...i fortunately have no crow's feet to kill at the present time!

seriously...i mean i get the script is yer bread and butter at the moment

till you go home to yer parents basement to smoke a bowl...check how many followers you got on yer latest tacky tiktok and if Charli D'Amelio commented on it at all...but gurrrrrrrl PUHLEEZ...you think i'm SHOOK by suggest'n i need yer shitty over priced sludge to smooth out my face?

i DO NOT marinate in Ernest Borgnine beauty crème

when i finally find a crow leave'n their foot prints in my face i'll deal with it

appropriately then the way i see fit not cuz society beats me down to put myself in financial ruin...think about it kittens...not everyone can age gracefully...some never get to age at all while some age with grace while others are just full of demented DNA disgrace...

so with that in mind...GET OFF MY DRESS!