MISERY LOVES COMPANY pt. 3

hey if yer look'n to shake up the holiglazed season'ns with a lil joy fer yer

very own pleasure now that it's in full swing...may i suggest find'n a crowded family function or packed shit fer brains hole in the wall sports bar where everyone's IQ in the room combined is the same as the alcohol content in just one can of schlitz malt liquor on game day and ask the remote control king/queen or brain dead waiter/waitress that there's a GOLDEN GIRLS marathon on and they'll get a $5 bonus tip fer a quik channel change at the bottom of the 9th durin' the 4th quarter

as everyone's fav-o-rit dribbler scores a home run with the puck in the pool...their reaction will be priceless...trust me...however if yer not feel'n that brazen...then click here fer pt. 1 and click here fer pt. 2 

so there i was one sunday afternoon at my neighborhood coffee shop 

read'n over pages of regurgitated crap about the football fans (the VIKES in particular) try'na inform the social media disdain fer the game that if they didn't like the outcome of the game then they outta put down the fuck'n pickled pringles and PBR and sign up to play at the next try-outs...finish'n up my latest blog while flipp'n thru annoy'n requests on desperadoville...or a4a...which after 3 years of bein' "sucked" into it (pun intended) i simply referred to it as assholes4assholes now

i responded to a simple request by some 20 somethin' tattoo'd potential 

failure to "hang out" (but who in the world does he think  i am...besides thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe) everyone knows that's just hookerville code fer "rock out with yer cock out"

i had nothin' better to do...so i emailed him my digits and finished up my 

over priced non dairy...dairy...mocha frappichino latte chi tea...i mean my plum red bull and headed fer home

a few hours later...after OD'n on rerun's of the hysterically fab-u-less after

school special knock-offs of  "STRANGERS WITH CANDY" an unsuitable friend called pretty much plead'n to get pollinated by yers cruelly...listen here...i haven't resided in desperadoville since the 90's when i started work'n at the 90's and though repeat performances have happened from time to time...i'm more into one-of-a-kind treasures these days

so...as the unmemorable caller tried desperately to remind me who they 

were...i picked the phone back up after 2 minutes and noticed a text had come thru though no name was attached...hmmm...who's this? a new pearl at the bottom of my electronical ocean of regrets

i politely interrupted the caller...who now just seemed like a rusted coin 

in the back alley of some dead end street that i had no interest in pick'n up and told them i would donate 10% of my feelings to his skank account

as i played the ping pong text game of who's this?...i realized it was the 20

somethin' from earlier in the day finally gett'n back to me in an untimely manner but why should i be surprised...most 20 somethin's these days have zero clue what a manner is unless it comes in a downloadable app

we made plans to "hang out" as it were...in an hour...when i was done  

file'n my feelin's in the "why not!" drawer and he was done look'n fer the next best thing that was within 15 feet from his reach

a week would go by and while i was enjoy'n bloody's with a stalker 

of mine...followed by an even fabular dinner while watch'n "KINKY BOOTS" at their palace when all of a sudden the generational gap texted me outta the blue and wanted to "hang out"

after inform'n the above acquaintance of him...they said to invite him over

to join in some robotic pleasantries...however i was in no mood to play a round of "patty cake patty fake" with my new counter help reject from blockbusters so after finish'n dinner and the movie i skedaddled back to my tiny underworld palace fer some pre-fornicational 4 square though once i retreated to my bed this generation was ready to count sheep so off to dreamland it was fer me

by morn'n he has opened the flood gates of his life...his drug/alcohol 

acrobatic act he had to get in tact...that he met me as 80's Boy George on halloween nite a year ago...

BUTT (and you know there always is one dont'cha kittens)

that we had actually met A YEAR EARLIER! at 1st i was like WHAT? then it felt like i was taken a shower at the bates motel!

hmmm...a year earlier?...i don't recall ANY 20 somethin's catch'n my 

interest accept fer a date i reported on when i began ramblin'n on about anything and everything when i first created this blog...he said..."you know my dad!"...i paused fer a second...then thought

no matter how many times you call me "daddy"

I AM NOT YER FATHER!

this saga is F-I-N-A-L-L-Y over...now GET OFF MY DRESS! 

MISERY LOVES COMPANY pt. 2

picture it kittens...it's 1979 and 3 20 somethin's  that included 2 maxi pads 

with one hunky non throat plunge'n culinary horny toad who H-A-D-D-A pretend he was a tulip sniff'n throat plunge'n penny loafer in able to cohabitate with his 2 roomies (since mixed gender live'n was a no-no by the landlord) or suffer the fate of sleep'n in the confines of the YMCA which was the #1 hit comedy on everyone's magnavox that year

my aunt Ellen had take'n me fer a weekend sleepover in Austin, MN to her bf Rollie at the time and that nites feature after a mac-n-cheese dinner was the reason why i...to this very day...will never be caught stepp'n a foot on a cruise in any ocean

and a talented neon yellow 8 foot 2 inch anthropomorphic bird who could roller skate...write poetry and sing among many other talents had dominated the morn'n airwaves fer 10 strong years advise'n the lil kittens across the globe the proper application of base...lip gloss and eyeliner...how to get outta sticky situations and a bunch of other shit

who recently pushed the buttons and pissed off the void of humanity and cancun escape'n repuglicunt from texas over of all things...keep'n people safe!

and now...back to the shit show (click here fer pt. 1)

by now...as i settled down into his leather lazyboy...the son...of course...

kept walk'n in and out of the movie...while Miss Hathaway kept belch'n away with her Budweiser (i know...pretty huh...in a can WITH NO CUZY...i'm mean really WTF?) and pose'n like some egyptian hieroglyphic on the couch like he was gett'n ready to spawn

the second time...he (the son) came down with just a pair of shorts and a

wife beater on...well...i did all i could to concentrate on the movie and not wish i was 20 years old again (though if genetics plays any part into that kids future...he better snag on to someone quick before gravity smacks the shit outta him)

of course i could easily tell McDrunk was nervous as hell half way thru the 

movie why the hell wouldn't he be...he's got a goddamn unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe in his presence cuz about every 20 minutes he would say to me..."you won't hurt my feel'ns if you wanna leave now...i can tell by your body language i know i'm not your type" (and that is a direct quote)

why? just cuz i was sitt'n there on his tacky leather Wickes close-out chair 

from 1995...look'n like i was wheeled in like Hannibal Lector with face mask and a strappy jacket on...hey...who ever said charity didn't come with a price?

i did all i could from tell'n him to shut the F up cuz i was try'n my best to  

concentrate on the movie that i'd seen like 1000 times before in complete silence and wanted to see it 1001 times in complete silence

i made it thru this movie without look'n at him once for if i did...i was afraid 

i would turn into granite and graciously said thanx for the invite to his spiderweb...i mean...humble abode

as he walked me down the steps...and out the door...the stench of costco 

and glade marination was but just a distant memory and as i drove off into the bleak bitter blizzard nite...i realized one thing...i'm 40 and i still have a pulse! so if anyone thinks i'll be mainline'n a relationship anytime soon...for the sake of a relationship cuz of my biological clock...ain't happen'n anytime soon!!

i don't need to dip into the desperado pool...just yet...my hand ain't broken

besides everything works out for the best in the end for me anyways however wouldn't ya know it though...i wake up the next morn'n to 2 messages from him...one beginn'n at 11:47 pm say'n he had a great time watch'n the movie with me and wanted to be "friends" (apparently he was have'n an outer body experience last nite) then a drunker message at 1:34 in the am hour tell'n me it's ok...he said his son talked to me on the same phone line a while back and wasn't gonna hang out with someone that talks to his son as well! 

WTF??? GET OFF MY DRESS!

MISERY LOVES COMPANY pt. 1

anniversaries are like assholes when you think of it...everyone has one 

whether it's regard'n a glorious matrimonial experience or some unfortunate colossally tragic event 

some are worth remember'n... 

while others just turn into a heap'n pile of steamy shit and there ain't no hallmark card to cover it up (unless you have connections to britain's M15...allegedly...A-L-L-E-G-E-D-L-Y!)

well after a year and a half of eat'n bonbon's and make'n my debut in the

much anticipated 80's chiller thriller of the year "TELEPHONE" (already an instant classic i've been told by the lollipop guild live'n inside my head) i FINALLY got a fuck'n job that i really want so it's time fer my to pull up my culottes and train my brain to get back on my normal ritualistic sunday nite schedule of a st. ives mint julip mud mask...followed by a 15 minute "routine" of tea bagg'n the dollar store sacks under my almond shaped bedroom brown eyes...buff'n down those unsightly hooves with some borax and a high powered sander and a "special" cuppa cocoa to settle the restless natives down below fer a much needed restless nite

well this week i decided to take a walk down my misery lane of date'n in 

my blog ramblins' and celebrate the 10th anniversary of one of my most iritate'nly exasperate'n dates i've ever had to date that had the pleasure to be in the presence of thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe (without so much as collect'n a gift or some simple canned goods i might add) though this time i've added a much needed pictorial car wreck to make it a much more aggravate'n yet invite'n read so give it another run thru again or perhaps yer just read'n  it fer the 1st time...with that in mind i hope you enjoy my anally reductive car crash from 2011...on with the show!

with all the hoopla goin' on in my naturally born...single...non heterosexual 

life these days...filled with the 3B's...bar's...booze and boy's (turns into the 3M's after 50...metamucil...Matlock reruns and mens-a-pause) that i'd almost fergotten what it was like to concentrate solely on just ONE person...besides myself...fer a change

mainly cuz i'm reminded recently...on a daily basis...how utterly frustrate'n 

it can be...by friends and family members...who are...fer a lack of a better word...completely JEALOUS of my apparent chosen life (ya won't find me in the freezer section of yer fav-o-rit grocery store at 9 pm frantically look'n for that chemically injected cookie dough for the next PTA meet'n anytime soon cuz yer too damn tired to make em yerself!)

oh...i don't mean being a mo'...that's "naturally born non heterosexual" 

fer  those still spitt'n their copenhagen in a tin can and play'n pocket pool with their "buddies" at the cabin on the weekends with back issues of Megan Fox in the pages of MAXIM magazine...no...i mean choose'n to be SINGLE lifestyle...cuz after all...it is a CHOICE we all make!!

so why is it that i constantly feel the need to give to charity?

i mean...i've give'n to march of dimes...performed free for aids charities over the years...volunteered for the raisin rancher's at any given hospice...consoled the socially retarded...chemically dependent...and emotionally unavailable mo's...when is enough...ENOUGH?

recently...a while ago...i decided it was time to venture into unknown 

territory again for another charitable act of the week (most call it a date) to the outer reaches of my planet called C-H-C-H-C-H-A-S-K-A!! (it might as well have been on the planet HOTH)

this guy i'd been chatt'n to the other nite...a while ago...YES…i’m still on 

the phone line from time to time though fer narcoleptic purposes only...anyways....he tells me he's 38 years old with 3 grown kids...one being 20...a mo'...and live'n with him...and said he (my date) has been compared to a member of the GLEE club...so i'm think'n...OK...they're all pretty good look'n and my type (well...those of the male persuasion of course...after all...i am just a gurl) and if they were older of course (my babysitt'n days are O-V-E-R!) so we both decided to finally meet at his place the next nite around 7 pm for a movie before i went back to count'n sheep fer the remainder of my sleep deprivation

WELL kittens...lemme break it down fer ya...one by one!

first off...as i'm drive'n to what-the-hell-am-i-think'n land...i called to 

confirm directions as i would never venture out on a school nite this far (especially when it was as frigid and uncomfortable as Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes mack'n it up fer the paparazzi) but he tells me i'm close so he was gonna jump in the shower and his son would let me in

i make it to his place and of course no doorbell in my immediate sight to

ring and i was in no mood to go on a scavenger hunt look'n for one so his son notices me out the window and opens the garage door and seconds later up came the garage door...i felt like C-3PO wait'n to enter Jabba’s lair

secondly...the son (legally 20 fer those wonder'n) was like a mini version 

of Johnny Depp from the "21 JUMP STREET" days...all tattooed up in the correct places...black baggy pants with a match'n black shirt with the top button slightly open...just enough to expose the beginn'n of "someone's" imaginational thoughts

though we had some things in common...while i was wear'n safety pins 

in the 80's to look cool...he was wear'n 'em to stay dry...i was here to see his dad...not be his "daddy" nonetheless i was guess'n the apple fell off a good tree so i wasn't gonna push the panic button yet...maybe it was worth the drive after all and he was super polite too (somethin' i can freely admit...i am not at times) he leads me to the top floor of the town home where it reeked of burbanite city

you know...that smell of Costco overstock pre-packaged crap to eat...

Wickes furniture...Chuck Norris gym equipment that never was used and burnt out glade plug in's...still plugged in...though i reminded myself...not everyone can have a flair fer design this was just a date so i bit my tongue and saved my judgemental judyness comments...fer now!

i tried to push the eject button on the date but i couldn't escape the son's 

gravitational pull...he was cook'n some ramen noodleness (while undress'n me with his eyes) and since he had "GLEE" on in the kitchen we chatted about that and how cool that they had a musical tv series and he couldn’t stop admire'n and gush'n about my attire i had on (HELLO!...have you seen me?) i couldn't either if i wasn't already me(ummm...insert laugh here) i totally felt like i was a passenger aboard the can-it-get-any-better-than-this airlines

thirdly...but then it happened...*mayday*mayday*mayday*...you may now 

use your seat as a flotation device...we are experience'n a major malfucktion...i no longer felt like C-3PO but more like Princess Leia shackled to Jabba’s throne!! my date...WALKED IN!!

fourthly...we'll go with 38 first...while i was actually 38 in 2008...he was 

38 in like 1968! well ok...maybe that's a bit of a stretch and possibly a lil shallow (we ALL do it on 1st dates finger pointers so put 'em away) let's just say use'n Milton Burle mud masks on a weekly basis since you were what? like 12...not sooo good! (i just want you to close yer eyes and visualize kittens)

ok...so maybe he wasn't lie'n about being compared to a cast member of 

"GLEE"...i just wasn't picture'n the lezbitronic football coach in my fantasy date and believe me when i say...i'm being kind here

he looked more like Miss Jane Hathaway...who'd been bitch slapped by

a coke habit fer the better part of the 90's in bad 80’s low ride'n acid wash jeans...a crappy 70's football jersey made for the jolly green giant and still uses the same  plastic hair bag with punch holes to pull yer hair thru by nice'n'easy to give yerself that unsuspect'n high lite job (the only good thing i can say about his appearance is that i'm glad he recycles!) plus he had marinated himself in enough paco raban that could choke a hippopotamus...however i figured...since i was already there i might as well just suffer thru one movie

so we went with KALIFORNIA with Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis...why not!

at least i could look at somethin’ hot...since i forgot my compact in the car...HA!

feel free to take a breathier at this point...make yerself a cocktail...then 

strap yourself in for the second half of my anniversary next week...now GET OFF MY DRESS!