CRY ME A RIVER

i'm pretty sure we've all heard that story about the lil boy who cried wolf 

everyone's on his side til she finally pulls that proverbial string on their bucket of bullshit and all hell breaks lose...today they come in many forms from the attention seekers to the attention defecater's and eventually they all burn out and burn their bridges of any credibility they may have once had

recently comic guru DAVE CHAPELLE got the bucket poured all over him

hours before he was set to do his set at the infamous club FIRST AVENUE in the Minne-Apple thanx to a handful of sensitive salamanders with no sense of humor that picketed his sold out show which only added fuel to his comedic fire when it was moved into my old stomp'n grounds at the VARSITY THEATER in dinkytown 

all cuz his alleged hate fer the trans community in regards to late trans comedian DAPHNE DORMAN from his Netflix special "THE CLOSER" which i've seen a few times and all of it was blown completely out of proportion fer those seek'n to make splashy bait and switch headlines on their social media accounts

DAVE of course had the last laugh in the end with his fans line'n up 3+ blocks deep wait'n anxiously fer the sold-out show to begin fer 3 solid nites! 

of course the militant whiners stomped their hooves in a temper tantrum by deface'n the Varsity with graffiti when DAVE wasn't cancelled...show'n exactly where their mentality level really is at!

though DAVE is not the only one feel'n the bruntage of the cuntage causes

lately...Disney recently decided it will no longer call their bibbity bobbity boutique clients "fairy godmothers in train'n pants" instead christen'n them "fairy godmother apprentices" to be more "inclusive" as they say...seriously though...who in the fairytale fuck do they think they're kidd'n...it's a market'n scheme to bow down to the whiney wokers while add'n more hidden charges to yer bill

now if you really wanna get yer britches in a bunch...why not focus all yer

anger towards somethin' more plausible like this political pussy JOSH HAWLEY who stoked up the lobotomized kool-aid drink'n dipshits with a fist bump of solidarity cause'n chaos on the nations capitol last jan 6th

then the feckless fucktard was caught on security camera's moments later runn'n faster than Lindsey Graham to an after hours party at a downtown DC gloryhole when the Wal-Mart beauty bunions breeched the barriers and made their way inside the capitol reek'n havoc everywhere

though the only real crime at the last jan 6th committee meet'n was why didn't Liz or Adam post that CLARK KENT look'n seat filler grindr’s profile in the ticker down below?

the LGBTXYZPDQ+ hard core militants are really ruin'n it fer everyone 

else in the alphabetty soup...whether you've transitioned or not...whether you wanna be referred to as they/them or not…whether you choose not to comprehend the distinction between humor and hate etc...WE ALL need to tiptoe thru the tulips or 2 lips (depend'n how you butter yer bread) 

and laugh at ourselves collectively at some point in order to get thru this thing called life...i whole heartedly agree when someone refers to ANYONE in a malicious...derogatory and or dangerous manner that puts ones life in jeopardy ect...by all means call them out on it and press charges if need be…

not everyone is entertained by a see'n a polished dick in a Dior with hair jacked up to jesus and my advice to them is THEN DON'T FUCK'N GO!

BUTT...that ain't all

trans people need to learn not to get all butt hurt and pull out their claws 

when someone in their own community has zero interest in anything more than just a simple casual conversation with them online or at the bar without bein' called insecure or prejudice just cuz they want nothing more than that...EVERYONE likes what they like sexually/emotionally P-E-R-I-O-D! also...words like "tranny" and "she mail" only became derogatory after it was perfectly acceptable fer the 1st 5 seasons on that popular scripted series all cuz of the new muff militia (yes i'm pull'n out the "my good friend is an actual tranny" card and play'n it at this point cuz she is not offended by the word) you seriously need to pick yer battles and this is not one of them kittens!

just like anyone's lil kittens WILL NOT turn into instant throat plungers or clam divers just cuz some queen in a tacky tiara and a dress from DOTS reads em to filth at story time in any given library

i mean seriously...i was talk'n with a friendly reminder recently who had

brought up a good point...the great spanish flu of 1919 had absofuckinlutely nothin' to do with Spain in the slightest nonetheless it's still referred to as just that though how many spaniards do you see bawl'n  their eyes out and brand'n their pitchforks at us in the streets? perhaps we outta just give them reparations fer the past 100 years and call it even steven huh?

there is ALWAYS room fer improvement with ANYONE...however not 

everyone will get on the bus yer drive'n if yer just gonna be speed'n thru town like a mental case sipp'n on mylanta nor remember where the hell it even stops if they do from time to time so take a chill pill "Jill" and just take em fer the ride yet pay attention to the road signs "Reggie"...you can't erase history any more than you can rewrite it

i wanna be introduced as the unintentionally internationally unknown

perform'n illusionist of my own universe (i know that's a mouthful...you can ask him) whenever i walk into a crowded gloryhole convention nonetheless i won't get butt hurt if it does not happen nor will i pull out my poster board...huff my magic markers and call fer a press conference at every entertainers gig i don't agree with...trans are terrific & non binary derry air is just delicious however as much as this new militant humorless degeneration wants to demoralize and chastise ALL those before them...

my i suggest take'n a lil bit of friendly advice from this slightly lightly seasoned sourpuss...i don't make trash...i burn it! don'tcha remember about the sticks and stones? so in cuntclusion...just pull up yer triggered knickers and GET OFF MY DRESS!

CONFECTIONARY CHAOS pt. 2

don'tcha find it kinda funny how people say that you must always remain 

positive with life in order fer yer chakra and yer well bein' to be in balance so you can live a much longer more healthier and fruitful life and that if yer constantly bein negative in life it will only bring you closer to the grave? yet if you test negative fer #1 the HIV or #2 the COVID (as i had recently with both) then it's actually a completely positive thing fer yer life!

well then...is it really all that negative of me to positively wish the damn domino effect kicks in (after Ivana kicked the can over the weekend) fer her mentally deranged dickless orange puffer fish X? R.I.P. I.T! i guess you decide...however kittens...in short...

 

you can take yer kumbaya's and yer daily affirmations and stick it where the sun don't shine and swallow the advice that i stand by 100% from 5 time VFW jitterbug champion Florence Jean Castleberry!

ok this analogy has absofuckinlutely nothin' to do with today's follow-up...i just needed an eye catch'n opener just like in all those deliciously bad and tacky Roger Coreman movies

click here to catch up with what the hell is goin on before move'n on and now the excrutiate'n conclusion to CONFECTIONARY CHAOS

turns out it was 6 bags of somethin' better than make'n our taste buds

 dance'n til dawn...it was 6 bags of monetary madness!

as we each grabbed 2 bags each...we hopped into Big Lipps Magee's car

and proceeded to hatch a calculated plan completely ignore'n the mountain of unopened twinkies as to how we were actually gonna be able to get away with our new found wealth

1st on the list was to completely alter our looks...by pick'n up 3 different

boxes of dyes to change our luscious locks to a completely different look than we had previously to our life of crime (see...this is where Bonnie & Clyde completely fucked it all up if ya ask me) i decided to go with a warm chestnut...if anyone asks

next up was to purchase one way tickets to some foreign country...

at the time i thought hmmm? Ottumwa Iowa seemed rather quiet plus i could hang out with Radar at the local soda shop and talk about his time in the trenches...hey i just figered if we layed low fer the next 3 to 5 years...

(cuz i was in no mood to do 5 to 10 in San Quentin) we could all meet up at some undisclosed rendezvous point however after we figered there was no way Big Lipps Magee wouldn't get his ass kicked from here to Havana if he didn't have the car home before his ma woke up for work...he just dropped me off at home and went on his merry lil way

BUTT wait...there's more

Joan had decided to leave town fer the next 3 days visit'n her brother in 

Virginia (or maybe it was West...i don't know...it's not really that important to this story i just wanted to give you a visual backstory) so it was me and my 3 oldest sibs that hadda look after our 3 younger sibs so by the time i finally made it home...i crawled thru my bedroom window and frantically searched fer scissors to open my 2 bags of coins to see what i had now possessed...turns out i had 2 enormous bags of quarters and feverishly devised a plan to cash them all in though that would have to wait til morn'n

once the younger sibs were stapled to the couch with their ice cream

 bucket jammed to the top with their stomach fillers the follow’n morn'n…

i turned on their fav-o-rit saturday morn'n news program just to keep the lil monkeys tap dance'n while i tried to figer the best way to carry my new found loot to the bank

i went down to our Silence of the Lambs cellar and grabbed a handful 

of mason jars from Joan's cann'n collection...i completely filled 4 of the large jars to the brim so i packed them neatly in my pack back 

and whisked myself off to the bank before they would close by noon and too my surprise i ended up with 363 spank'n new benjamins to my name...that was like a million dollars to a 15 year old since my paper route only paid my 38 benjamins a month to deliver the shitty Shopper (cheap fucks and their slave labor)

return'n home...the lil monkeys were restless and i was in no mood to

 play warden with my new found wealth so i called Big Lipps Magee to see what he had scored with his haul...turns out it was roughly only 75 benjamins in nickels...i told him i'd give him 2 benjamins fer petrol if he would run me to the local record store FACE THE MUSIC (which...incidentally...you millennial's will never appreciate the experience of a 1000 click  click click's of cd's case like us gen X'ers)

once inside i found myself thee holy grail of money holder's stare'n me smack dab in the face at the front counter which would only cost me the low low price of $7.50 to adopt it so how could i go wrong? this was totally an omen cuz if i never would'a non violently robbed that twinkie truck...i would most likely never have went into FACE THE MUSIC that weekend and since there was only one dark lavender Culture Club wallet left...it was really meant to be

after my holy grail purchase...Big Lipps Magee dropped me off at home

but my younger sibs were gett'n restless since the saturday morn'n news was come'n to an end so i decided to be the responsible big bro and hopped on my huffy to the local video rental store to find somethin to lobotomize the lil ones a lil longer fer the next 3 or 4 hours so i wouldn't be bothered try'na figer out how to wisely invest my new windfall

after 30 minutes of hunt'n high and low thru the aisles of VHS hell...i opted on "ET" if i remember correctly and a lil unknown nonetheless important cumm'n of age foreign flick "DESIRES OF THE DEVIL" (though that was fer my own personal view'n pleasure with some of my friends)

as i brought the tapes up to the counter to pay...i couldn't find my brand

 new Culture Club wallet contain'n my new converted Twinkie treasure in my back pocket which i then immediately and quite frantically ran thru the rental store like a tazmanian devil with turrets hunt’n fer it however after 10 minutes or so not find'n it i figered i probably dropped at my house so i huffy'd my plump and oh so supple A double snakes back home as fast as a hornet...flipp'n my entire bedroom upside down...i could feel my walls close'n in on me and suddenly felt like the princess trapped in H-E-double hockey stix with no hope in sight of ever find'n my wallet

i could barely catch my breath as i flew back down to the video store

to ask the 2 town video whores work'n part time behind the counter if anyone had turned in a wallet to which they both said (in unison i might add) "NO...no one turned in a purple Culture Club wallet!"

waid'a'minute! i never said what kinda wallet it was nor the color

of it…the jig was up...i now had realized that i'd been played by a couple of pro's who weren't play'n around...not ONLY did i forgo the video rentals fer my sibs (and that one video nasty fer me and my friends) i also didn't get to relish in my new found wealth any longer...worst of all...

I LOST MY DAMN DARK LAVENDER HOLY GRAIL!

even Indiana could'a never completed this task fer me

moral of this story is ...karma is more than just a chameleon from the 80's

and that twinkies are not the chemically treated deliciousness that we were lead to believe!

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

ps...if the statute of limitations hasn't run out and we can possibly be charged with some sorta armed robbery or high crimes and misdemeanors after all these years...ummm this was all just an alleged dream i fergot to not remember...ever!

CONFECTIONARY CHAOS pt 1

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

century...why not! the land scattered with fair maidens...bumble'n sheriffs and a sly witty foxy acherist with his band of merry men who could shoot an arrow thru the air with the greatest of ease make'n them glide like the precision of the russian ballet...steal'n from the rich basturds and give'n to the poor

now let's hop in our delorean and fast forward to 3 centuries later

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 the 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 cuz banks are FDIC insured anyways fer that sorta shit anyways!

and of course who couldn't 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 like LaToya was lyp-sync'n the entire damn time to be perfectly honest

BUTT...let’s F-O-C-U-S....

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 insomnia issues...in acid wash jeans (hey it was 1985...don't be a judgmental judy) so he calls me up frantically one even'n in the summer of '85 and proceeds to tell me to high tale my plump monkey ass 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 the Sahara desert that particular even'n cuz of the barometric pressure in the air or lack there of (i 'm just sett'n a backdrop to the story kittens) winged 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 off like a hornet in heat to his home in Homer which was a leisurely 20 minute ride (though i knew he wanted me there yesterday) so i hadda pump up my cardio this particular even'n and fly thru the bike paths around lake Winona 

like a bat outta Meatloaf hell...

which anyone grow'n up in the 80's on a hot humid nite knows NEVER to bike around the lakes of Winona...unless you wanna be viciously attacked by an army of those fuck'n 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 some Pablo Pissed-off-Caso masterpiece with suicidal fish flies...each harpooned into my sharp split ends and needless to say i was no longer happy nor hungry fer this adventure in the middle of the nite any longer

by the time i had reached my final destination i noticed a vend'n truck in Rick's i mean Xavier's driveway...his mother "Matilda" rented the upstairs of her house (the same place i would eventually rent years later) 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 vehicle were locked....so Xavier (always bein' a bit of a snoopy snoop that he was) found out the renter fergot to lock the back doors and when we popped em open it was as if we'd opened the pearly gates of some confectionery heaven...

it was like a diabetics dream house inside!

though 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 Magee 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 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 Magee ma's gold lame colored shit mobile that we planned on use'n as our get-a-way car to see what was block'n our stash of sugary satisfactions fer years to come

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

we found somethin' so much more deliciously distract'n than what we had anticipated or ever expected to our surprise...

tune in next week fer the excruciate'n conclusion to CONFECTIONARY CHAOS

now GET OFF MY DRESS!