A BLIND EYESORE

it's that time of the year once again fer fabulous fruity cocktails...fireworks

and every fabulously flame'n fagula begins to fan their fierce flames on every bar stool and under every bathroom stall from Boise to Baton Rouge...yes kittens it's throat plunge'n/bubble butt roulette season...otherwise simply known as P-R-I-D-E month fer the non heterosexuals of the planet

legend has it that if some booboo puts his head under their pillow thru-out the month of PRIDE he'll eventually wake up doin the hokey pokey and spinn'n himself around on some yogi's yard stick...though don't quote me on that!

BUTT...it ain't ALL about that!

though there has been many a progress since the days of STONEWALL

where i was but a mere puddle in the port-a-pottie outside durin' my 1st ever PRIDE in the big apple a few years back...

it seems that there's always gotta be some pitifully pious paulina that gets

her pitifully petty panties in a pickle and decides to post her "opinion" on social media to prove what a total ostentatious ostrich she really is with her head buried so deep in the sand that she practically can see the geisha girls kick'n it up at the Kyoto club in Japan...

 just cuz of a simple display at the front of their local big box retailer that's try'n to cash in on yet another "holiday" with as much rainbow vomit they can plaster on any of the latest "must haves"

case in point was this senile senorita who was doin a quick stop at her 

neighborhood target store...with what i gather was her under age son by her post...fer a pallet of maxi pads to clog that dilapidated wizard sleeve between her thighs and another home lobotomy perm (the name hasn't been redacted cuz well...why should it really? she decided to post it on social media so fair game!)

now normally...after years of have'n to listen'n to this tired rhetoric from the

regurgitation nation whine'n about "we know...blah blah blah....but do you have to shove it in our faces? hmmm and i suppose you non homosexuals HAVE NEVER shoved yer kids photos...PDA parades and rectally regurgitated religious beliefs down ours? so i decided to try and not pounce on her like a gaggle of greased up twinks fight'n to bounce up and down on some "daddy's" rage'n throbber like a mary-go-round and responded back with a more sensible approach instead of my usual tirade!

thing is ROSA and all those with the same inclinations...lemme let you in on

a lil secret that has been a staple since the first caveman clobbered his cohort with his throat plunge'n club...WE...that is the non heterosexuals of the planet earth...ARE NOT try'n to indoctrinate...incarcerate nor procreate with yer brothers...boyfriends...sons or the son-of-a-bitches you been reluctantly hitched to 

(though i can't guarantee the gay mafia won't make em flip on a dime fer some knee time)

so with that in mind ROSA...if yer REALLY that offended by a lame rainbow 

display smack'n you in the face like a dick in a dark room as you walk into whatever big box store only to be asked by yer obliviously curious son what in the sam H-E-double hockey six those rainbows are all about...try'n explain'n to him about how 20 year old Iranian ALI FAZELI-MONFARED tried flee'n his homeland to Turkey and meet up with his boyfriend until he was conned by his half-brother and 2 cousins who convinced him to take a ride where they then beheaded him in an "honor kill'n" after they found out what side his bread was buttered on...keep in mind this story is not from 20 years ago...it's from just a lil over 20 day ago on may 4, 2021

i already know what yer think'n...well it's how they act in the middle east

ok ROSA and ROSA alikes...try teach'n yer son and or daughter about 25 year old professor LINDOLFO KOSMANSKI who was shot twice and his charred remains left on the side of some highway in the southern region of Brazil on april 30th, 2021

well don't fret my annoyed rainbow pet....this ain't just happen'n in cities

in far away lands unfortunately...it's happen'n in yer own back yard (figuratively speak'n of course since yer actual location is unknown to me) did you know that 24 year old black trans woman SERENITY HOLLIS from Albany Georgia was the 25ht trans woman murdered on may 8th, 2021? we're not even halfway thru the damn year yet

so in cuntclusion ROSA's of the social media world...when visit'n ANY 

big box business...eatery or any alcoholic establishment that displays...supports and celebrates non heterosexuals by vomit'n rainbows on every nook and cranny in their space...remember this...it's just A FUCK'N RAINBOW!!! cuz ps...if we ain't fuck'n you...and you ain't fuck'n us...then WHY OH WHY do you give a fuck who we fuck cuz we certainly don't give a fuck who yer fuck'n…KAPEESH?

however…if you still haven't grasped onto my concept…try tune'n in on an

absolutely brilliant breakdown of the rainbow life on FX if you need to be further edumacated…so take this as you will ROSA's…

WE...the rainbow connection...know you will come after us every year...nonetheless...we eventually will win you over cuz we've been fight'n this day after day…month after month...year after year…decade after decade…after decade and in the end we will all forget about it and go on with our lives and even though we know you’ll probably come back with knives in the dark cuz you just can't seem to let it go…WE WILL still be there fight’n you every step of the way!

HAPPY PRIDE to all the LGBTXYZPDQ community...otherwise known as the alphabet mafia and i'm just not play'n THAT game so if you got an issue with it then complain to yer state representatives kitten…and GET OFF MY DRESS!

BATTERED UP!

it's been roughly 4 months since the US capital was viciously attacked by

all those wannabe orc'n lobotomized crispy creamed conspiracy crazed and calloused STD's along with their vaginally warted Walmart beauty scabs marinate'n in jean nate' after bath body splash so of course ANY sane person (let alone politician) would think that they'd want to get to the bottom of the orange biscuit eat'n IMPEACHED TWICE FER LIFE boil on the butt of humanity who started the whole damn insurrection to begin with and launch a special council immediately!

i mean the rectally reprehensible repuglicunts spent in excess of $7 million

33 hear'ns total with 3 of them bein' aired live to the public just to try and humiliate HILLARY CLINTON only to get a meme of HILLARY look'n constipated from consume'n too much gouda on her caesar salad at lunch...nonetheless...it should be of no surprise that a majority of the crotchety cantankerous right still has their slither’n tongues rammed so far up that sack of regurgitated excrement and voted against ANY sort of investigation!

BUTT anyways...

as sad as it is how all these scenarios unfortunately happen "randomly"

and very senselessly unpatriotic...could someone please contact CTU pronto...ask fer Bauer...he'll know what to do within 24 hrs or his name ain't Jack

the week had just barely begun fer me...however...unfortunately...

a while back when i was too weak fer it to begin in the 1st place due to my sunday funday spill'n into just another manic monday...so after a very taxi'n day and calgon clearly was no where near to take me awaaay...i received a desperate phone call late one even'n from my very inebriated friend of my defunked fan club ask'n me fer a colostomy bag or a quarter...i couldn't quite understand what the hell she was say'n...

as her unequilibrium finally started to make sense...she had summoned me to help her out in the "beat my liver to a bloody pulp" game one more time sorta like a twisted episode with that ever intoxicatingly and breath takingly beautiful assistant of tv's "BEAT THE CLOCK fame starr'n ROXANNE who i had the pleasure of meet'n one christmas who completely turned my world upside with her stories from the yester years of hollyweird...however entertain'n as it sounded at the moment..

there was only 1 position on my mind that even'n (and NO it DID NOT include bein' on all 4's...well not by me anyways) and that was me in a missionary position with cool cucumber slices blanket'n my eyes and marinate'n my mug in dijon dressing...my weekly beauty regiment and dinner salad all rolled into one

he then had given me the option behind door number 2...

which i was hope'n was a brand new Amana radar range with beautiful bamboo stools...a kitchen counter top table made of brushed imitation formica and a full set of gourmet cookware from the makers of Cuisinart...thoguh i would have no such luck...it was just lame seats to...

the unfulfilled fantasy Hot Duo's and the Half Breeds

(fer those unable to purchase a ticket to the catch up train...i'm talk'n about those MN Twins and the Cleveland Indians...but this is my story...so deal with my interpretation...now sit down and shut up)

now where was i?...oh yea...thing is though kittens...

this was virgin territory fer me...i am not used to watch'n a bunch of guys in tights...swing'n their bats at each others faces with balls fly'n all over the place (ummm...quit roll'n yer eyes) well...not unless it involves an assortment of lubricational jams and jellies of course

though i had apparently met the very lickable likeable Joe Mauer years earlier at a drink'n establishment in the uptown area who had purchased me and my unfuckable friend a beer (hey i had already met my required charitable contributions fer the year at that point)...i was gonna need a lil more convince'n reason to waste 3 hrs of my life...

which said unfuckable friend assured me that CHER would be perform'n at the halftime show so i figered i might as well open my mind like a love starved lotus flower and pollinate my memory banks to new experiences

i was lost...what does one wear to a barbaric sport'n event like this?

the latest runway look by Jean Paul Gaultier?

or a more colorfully yet casual and completely comfy muumuu from the Mrs. roper collection?

of course said unfuckable friend had chosen a much more suitable look since he was devirginize'n me on his dime after all 

we popped into the local non heterosexual water'n hole...

fer a  gynecological exam in the restroom pre-game non nonalcoholic refreshments and then it was off to the game

though the baseball stadium was only a mere 2 blocks away...

we were waaaay too tired to be bothered to walk it so we summoned a local street cabbie to take us to our desired destination...but the damn ass might as well have been doin' the sugar shuffle at the rate we were move'n...we should'a just gotten out and walked it but then we remembered we'd look alot more important to the pheasants if we are bein' waited on

well...what seemed like an eternity to reach the stadium...we both realized how absolutely parched we'd become...i mean...it had been approximately a whole 2 1/2 minutes since our last glass of refreshments...so we threw some benjamins and a breath mint to the pheasant cabbie and we were on our way to see CHER at the halftime show

once we reached the gate...much to our surprise...a friend had take'n our box seats inside with him instead of leave'n them at the gate...so we hissed and stomped of course i hadda pull out the really big guns and let her know that i was indeed the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe to get any sorta service...

she looked at me with her beady lil eyes and was like "listen...i don't know who you are...or where you came from...but you most certainly don't fit in this arena...why...yer not even properly dressed"

i was like..."listen sister...if i wanted yer opinion...i'll beat it outta ya!" 

(now where have i heard that before?)

after security gave us our complimentary pat down...we hunted fer our seat'n location and then frantically searched fer our kick ass seats in the nose bleed section the closest water'n hole cuz we were goin thru thee most

 dramatic withdraw symptoms and from what i was to understand...it was the bottom of the 2nd in'n though i could see no one worthy enough in sight fer me to fulfill that position so luckily we found the the closest bar and sitt'n next to us was this dad and son duo that looked more like a phone call away from "the Courtship of Eddie's Father" on the spice channel

once we found our actual kick ass seats on the front line...we realized one thing...that there was a bar stool that must be freeze'n to death right about now somewhere...and our chilled hearts were about to go into cardiac arrest...so after the most gruel'n 60 seconds of our entire existence were wasted...sitt'n in places where we knew we absolutely did not belong...

we downloaded the latest non nonalcoholic's divine'n rod app and set our GPS to stun anyone that got in our way and by the time we had located our desired destination...the ass holders had welcomed us with open arms as the bartender lined up the medication fer our consumption and despite it bein' attached to some barbaric sport'n event...i was comforted in the fact that CHER would soon be perform'n once they reached the half point in the game

i couldn't help but notice though that our bartender couldn't help but notice

that i was thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe my glass was empty so he filled it back to the brim (though i was ready to fill mine with him)

i asked him politely intoxicated when was CHER's halftime performance goin to begin and don't you hate when this happens to MEEE? he looked at me like i was the crazy one...then he tells me that she was here last nite...FUUUUCK! why does this always happen to me?

 

absolutely intoxicatingly inconsolable...we packed our regret at the bottom of the 8th...or 9th...seriously though...who really cares at this point since we were now at the bottom of our barrel and headed over fer a nite of classically trained chalk board scratch'n singers ruin'n all the top 40 hits you can think of commonly known as crapaoke

though we never got to see Miss Sarkisian turn back time...

we tore it up...and i mean that litterally...we hacked into "just like jesse james" like Lizzy Borden at a birthday party...luckily this momentous moment will NOT be televised anytime soon and though we never did find out how many touch-downs...baskets...goals or whatever the Twins needed to beat the Indians to a bloody pulp in the 4th round...it was an experience id' rather not experience again without bein' properly informed of the halftime show entertainment

though i should thank my stalkers fer finally popp'n my baseball cherry...

i unconsciously cannot since i was force'd to participated in that damn selfie ritual of look'n like some hostage held at gun point bein' forced to fake a smile to assure my loved ones i'm bein' treated fairly...i wish i could'a gave 'em more in return...

though i think a jug of everyone's fav-o-rit window cleaner will suffice!

thanx fer join'n in on my little adventure from my past...but i must bid ado

cuz it's time fer me to pay it forward...and pop someone else's cherry...so i gotta make a quick run fer supplies

so kindly GET OFF MY DRESS!

AND JUST LIKE THAT...

let's hop in a our delirious delorean and set the year to 2010 shall we?

when the future king hair plugs fer men model and his royal paint by numbers got hitched so they could move on up the monarchy chain...

Lady Blah Blah managed to make a mockery of both vegans and veggie lovers not to mention cannibals and carnivores everywhere by desperately seek'n attention become'n creatively callous wrapp'n herself up in some carcass she ran over on the way to the the Mtv awards... 

instagram became an insta hit...

and every gaggle of north pole puffers...prolapsed emporiums and their fav-o-rit temperamentally undiagnosed maxi padders flocked to the theater with their kerchief in their culottes to check out the latest adventures of CARRIE BRADSHAW...SAMANTHA JONES...MIRANDA HOBBS and CHARLOTTE GOLDENBLATT (that unfortunately this unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe could'a honestly waited fer on dvd...which is still perfectly acceptable to me since I hadda spend 2 hrs next to some schizophrenic chipmunk try’n open a bag of pistachios or somethin nut adjacent so calm yer nibbley parts down kittens)

BUTT...F-I-N-A-L-L-Y...

after 11 long years of wait'n fer a proper conclusion...HBO has decided to

do their due diligence by defibrillate'n their desperate dick wranglers and their dickless diaphragmers with 10 episodes of more delightful drama that picks up where the last movie left us demand'n fer more...

unfortunately with some magor differences!

everyone's fav-o-rit unapologetic size queen SAMANTHA JONES will not

be return'n to delight her audience with her dickliciousness dialogue and diatribes due to unresolved issues with one Miss Bradshaw apparently (of which I WILL NOT be hashtag team’n either side) and though we will all be mourn'n SAMANTHA's disappearance...they simply CANNOT make us mourn her character...reportedly they will explain her absence as friendships that grew apart as they grew older...which...let's be honest here...jealousy and envy is a desert fer disaster...it happens to ALL of us!

to the delight of us all out there the delicious furniture dwiddle'n D.I.L.F

and CARRIE's best choice fer luva's as far as most fans were concerned...AIDAN SHOW portrayed by the dash'n JOHN CORBETT has signed back on fer a boat load of episodes in what capacity WE DO NOT KNOW YET but if i were a writer on the series (and seriously at this point...I SHOULD BE MICHAEL...call me...i will help you!) CARRIE would calm her tits down & end up married once again...

since CARRIE's current hubby MR BIG played by the handsome CHRIS NORTH is still an unconfirmed cast member return'n....besides he'd be in his mid sixties by now and a perfect candidate fer a massive cardial infarction which would be the perfect tear jerk'n opener to the series (like Hans surprise death in Star Wars 7)

and the perfect reason to introduce AIDAN back into her arms fer all the bleed'n hearts everywhere cuz really THEY WERE MEANT TO BE!

and yet another unconfirmed two-time'n bartend'n D.I.L.F STEVE  BRADY

played by the muskley DAVID EIGENBERG is in talks with the producers to reappear and trust me...we all got our fingers crossed cuz really it was just that one time...i'm sure the stench of that cheap floozy has been completely fergotten in Miranda's mind by now

the sizzle'n as hell fuckstik SMITH JERROD played by JASON LEWIS

unfortunately would have zero reason to give us weekly long shower masturbational dreams if SAM is not appear'n in the series...however how 'bout this...his career ends in hollyweird but MIRANDA and STEVE's son Brady stumbles across one of his "films" on pornhub as a power daddy top & he comes out as to his parents as a power hungry bottom twink (hey...it could happen!)

the loveably cued balled jew lawyer family man HARRY GOLDENBLAT

played by EVAN HANDLER is also unconfirmed as this story went to print but they can't make CHARLOTTE a widow nor turn him into some ax wield'n homicidal serial killer so i'm sure his return will happen eventually

of course the show wouldn't be complete without that very oh-so-snappy

judgey wudgey fancy ferry-go-round with that subtle savoir flair'n sword swallower STANDFORD BLATCH played by WILLIE GARSON 

though we can see his hubby and former nemesis ANTHONY MARANTINO played by MARIO CANTONE try'n to recapture his youth by gett'n one too many fillers when he falls fer a new years baby twink after 3 cheat'n years together so he's an unnecessary returnable character and completely dispensable like most of my relationships

production begins this summer in the big apple...but no release date has 

been set just yet...however...a lil birdie tells me this will be an honest as can be conclusion to all the friendships and fall-outs and fuck-ups and what it's like fer a real woman in her 50's (w/an unlimited expense account & designers plead’n to wear their latest creations) live'n in NY so we’ll finally get the fairytale end’n after all and i fer one can't wait fer it's premier 

now GET OFF MY DRESS!