so i can't be bothered on educate'n you with the low expectations you've come to deserve so if you need a lil refresher course on what the H-E-double hockey stix is goin on with this mess of a story...click here fer pt 1 and click here fer pt 2 and now (you guessed it kittens) pt 3...give yerself a pat of the back and nibble on a nilla wafer if no one helped you out on that one (cuz as sure as shit on shingle) i ain't hold'n yer hand thru it all over again...kapeesh!
a few months would go by until i would finally have my judgemental judy
day in court...which was all such a new concept fer me since i was now the derelict defendant (when i was used to play'n the pretty plaintiff in my E true hollyweird story like i did back in the late 80's) so of course i hadda ask fer outside council with me bein thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe and all it would hurt my head too much try'n to figer it out on my own...i would have absolutely zero clue as to what should i expect? what should i say? what sorta cocktails were they gonna serve with the complimentary buffet that i assumed would be there since it was in the afternoon after all and most importantly what should i wear?
my all time fav-o-rit french designer Jean Paul Gaultier...who i almost had
the opportunity to model for back in '91 when i went to some cattle call the week before Jeffery Dahmer was busted fer munch'n on mo's marinate'n in marmalade in Milwaukee...
well any who'zll'ding...JEAN PAUL had some really tasteful silhouettes...fancy fringes and beautiful braid work done that season but would i be give'n the red carpet treatment as a legitimate litigant if i upstaged the jury or Judy?
the nite before all the hoopla over my non murderous court case would 
begin...i had decided to stay over at some unmentionable's house whom i was involved with at the time (cuz i was too lazy to commit suicide...umm insert laugh here) to calm my nerves before my big day and so of course he took it upon himself late in the nite to use me as his personal tickle me elmo doll...of which i 100% loathe (trust me) i'm like a piranha outta water if you try and tickle me cuz yer probably gonna get a boot in yer ass just so i can breathe...well finally after minutes of plead'n with him to stop...i finagled my legs underneath his chest...
and projectiled him clear across the room like one would when taste'n gefilte fish spread on a peppercorn triscuit fer the first time when you clearly asked fer the olive tapenade...however...unfortunately fer me (in the process) my unsuitable suitor scraped his sasquatch elbow across my almond shaped eyes and by the time i had composed myself and took a breath...my left one was throbb'n (unlike the other portions of my nether regions that should'a been that nite) so i went into the bathroom to rinse of anything that may have gotten into my eyes durin' the scuffle...threw on my winter muumuu and marched out the front door back to my bed on the corner of crackville avenue and hooker junction
as dawn would break i scraped my A double snakes outta bed...my face
had felt like it had been run over by a steamroller in the nite and as i switched on the bathroom lite to jump in the shower...i took a quick peek in the mirror and noticed that apparently my left eye had tried to use its socket as an escape hatch in the middle of the nite as it was considerably larger than his twin on the right....i looked like a fuck'n cartoon character watch'n an anvil fall out of the sky
so i pillaged thru my pile of muumuus in the closet look'n for my emergency headgear but someone apparently stole it from me and cutt'n 2 holes in my egyptian 1000 count threaded cream colored bed sheets was not gonna be an option anytime soon so luckily my roommate at the time had an eye patch i could slip on
only problem was i looked like PETE BURNS with alopecia issues from
80's super pop euro dance group DEAD OR ALIVE and felt like i was spinn'n around like an anxious record in the courtroom await'n fer my judgemental judy moment which inadvertently worked to my advantage i guess cuz once my case was called...turns out that the hot cop had lied to the courts say'n he breathalyzed me at the scene and not the station (MN laws anyways) and i was let go on a $50 fine instead of the $1000 to $3000 fine i had heard i was look'n at gett'n
though i was warned under no circumstances could i drive my vehicle fer the next 6 months cuz just one simple infraction and i was gonna be thrown in the clink fer 90 days to think about my actions
on top of that mess...i swore the lady i had to report to fer AA classes that
very afternoon was already 3 sheets to the wind herself when i came into her office...she had started the conversation all casual like with me to make me feel at ease then asked me how many drinks i had per day...which at the time was 5 bottles of diet elephant piss (Miller lite) at max (on any given weekend only) she slurred to me and said "eh...yer not a real alcoholic then!" and she signed off on my order that i didn't have to step one foot into that sad sapped sobriety sorority again
BUTT that ain't all...
a few days later i would see an eye surgeon to have an operation on my
damaged eye (since the eyedrops i was o.d'n on weren't of any help) turns out i caught an infection from my tickler terrorist when he scraped my eyelids...which my left eyelid had flipped over via his arm and some of the sweat trickled off his chewbacca like hair follicles which had sliced open the inner part of my eyelid (purely accidental i would agree) nonetheless...cause'n me great discomfort so the doctor sliced open the underbelly of my damaged eyelid...washed it out with some citric acid i swore and sent me home with roughly 20 days of antibiotics and a $600 bill since i was uninsured at the time (yay fer me!)
the first morn'n when i awoke to take my antibiotic pill with some hotdog
soup (which consisted of cook'n a package of hotdogs just to drink the juice) which i learned this most precisely precious delicacy from the late great petite flower...giver goddess...aphrodite of the accordion...fashion-plate saint...queen of candy pants...princess of panty shields...empress of elvis impersonators and the buffer of bunions Miss JUDY TENUTA
turns out though i was allergic to the fuck'n shit so instead of choke'n down
another pill my roomie let me pay my rent with the remain'n pills that month which was fine with me and i tracked down the tickle terrorist and told him he owed me at least half of bill...which to be perfectly honest...in a perfect world he would'a just paid it all outta his own damn pocket since he caused this predicament in the first place...so of course he took my request fer half of the bill as some sorta shake down since he had just sold his house and never ponied up a penny to me so i never got a new set of antibiotics which unfortunately had me stuck with the fuck'n scar that i have to cover up everyday to this very day so i don't have to deal with morons ask'n me on the daily what's wrong with my eye
though many years and many failed nutri systems later...the tickler tried to slither his way back into my life one nite at the bar to which i completely ignored
i would only make it a full month before i was tempted to turn the keys
to my car and meet my aunt Ellen in uptown fer some nibbleys and nonsensical cocktails...however...i was in no mood to deal with a 2 bus transfer at the time so i figered i'd take all the side streets and be in and out in under an hour at max...only prob was i would only make it one block thru the alley of my roomies residence before i was spotted by a set of christmas lights...
and leave it to some Roscoe P. Coltrane to scold me with the riot act without even hear'n my reasonings as to why i so desperately needed my vehicle at that very moment...instead he just told me how i was goin to be sleep'n on cement fer the next 90 days with my stupid choice
luckily fer me though fer some reason he gave me a get outta jail free card
if i could get someone to pick up my car at that very moment (cuz he either didn't wanna do the paper work or perhaps wanted to get with the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe on a later date...who knows) luckily my roomie was home and Roscoe made me do the walk of shame back up the alley to my place and with the hands of judgement warned me he didn't wanna see me on the streets fer the next 60 days or it wouldn't be so good fer me next time...to which i whole heartedly agreed...
life is a mystery...everyone must stand alone...Lourdes-Marie-Veronica-Ciccone-Leon and all that shit...who cares i was saved!
though most of the residents live'n on the corner of crackville avenue and
hooker junction i had no issues with per se...there was one residential rodent in particular who had some sorta elephantitus of the right leg (it was extremely larger than the left...call it what you want) that lived directly across the street from me (where my roommate would buy his drugs from on occasion...hey i don't judge...it's yer life do what ya want!) that i would see perched on the 2nd floor porch every day i would get off the bus from work and he would never say a word to me...just simple eye contact as i passed by until i got in my roomies house...it felt cringey and definitely creepy at first but eventually i figered he was just act'n as my own personal security guard and i left it alone
finally the day would come where it was my 59th day in non mobile hell
and my box of franzia friend Sallie Mae Day Hat offered to pay me a chunk of change to come pick her up at her home in Brooklyn Park roughly 20 minutes away and go down town to celebrate have'n the shackles of my self imposed torturous life removed from my portfolio...only problem was...i still had 6 more hours to go...however...don't ever tell me the odds...cuz odds are i will do the complete opposite which of course i did that nite
we made it downtown in once piece without incident and after an hour
or so of lift'n my spirits with some spicy spirits...i decided to leave Sallie on her own accord and once again took to the back roads and byways back home...unfortunately just when i thought i was in the clear with only 1 block away from my live'n quarters...i once again was see'n christmas lights in my read view mirror and it was only 20 minutes before midnite
as this Roscoe had me pull over to the side then ran my plates...he came
back with that judgmental puss on his face and i knew right then and there that i would not be gett'n another get outta jail free card...so as i was ready to receive my complimentary pat down before bein' escorted back to jail fer the next 90 days...Roscoe received a call on his cb regard'n shots fired somewhere else apparently and told me "dude you don't know how lucky you are right now...leave yer car right here and pick it up in the morn'n and don't be stupid fer the next 20 minutes" and once again...
life is a mystery...everyone must stand alone...Lourdes-Marie-Veronica-Ciccone-Leon and all that shit...i was saved!
4 years would pass and i decided it was time fer me to move on from the
corner of crackville avenue and hooker junction that i'd become so accustomed to and back to civilization in uptown to which i did...though remember my security guard across the street from me from 4 years earlier with elephantitus of the leg? well kittens...literally 2 days before i would depart as i was gett'n off the bus and passed him on my route as usual...he finally opened his mouth and let out a murmur like he'd been gargle'n on lighter fluid fer his entire life and simply said "F-A-G-G-O-T!"
i decided not to play into his imbecile hands and just kept on walk'n home
and by morn'n i told my roommate about the incident over a steam'n cup of Sanka about the perched guy on the 2nd floor balcony from the nite before to which he informed me that the guy had died last nite...hmmm...i stopped fer a minute to process it all in but all i could muster up to say was "well...he shouldn't have called me faggot then i guess!" and i left to work...2 days later i had moved out!
ps Sallie May Day Hat wants me to mention about the one time i was a bit
tuned up on one of our many spirited nites out and he was stay'n over at my roommates house fer the nite however decided to lock me outta my rental like a drunk mental (which was no big surprise when she's tuned up) minutes later i seen him puff'n his marlboro lights on the 2nd floor balcony so i called his cell to fer him to let me in...he asked where i was call'n him from...i said "oh geez Sallie...look to yer left...i'm in the fuck'n tree" i had climbed up the birch tree on the side of the house to the 2nd floor
and trust me when i say...she was not named Luka nor was she live'n on my 2nd floor so he yelled "oh my god yer fuck'n crazy...go home Sallie May!" (that's our nicknames fer each other in case yer lost) and he went inside lock'n the porch behind her (even though i already was home) so i broke a branch off the tree and jimmied the lock open thru the cat door...the end!
now GET OFF MY DRESS!
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