LISTEN UP!

in the 1800's...it was all the rage to be enraged at any youthful

jezebel who would dare show off her ankles in a public forum to all the horned up halitosed chimney sweepers on the block...these titillate'n tawdry teenaged tramps were simply given the sanctimonious title of bein' a modern day madonna whore...at the time

not to be confused with Madonna or any given respectable whore 180 years later

by the mid to late 1900's all H-E-double hockey stix broke loose

on those troublesome teenaged trollops with the rise of the speed demon juvenile delinquents of the 1950's

the hallucinogenic ritual bath'n free love'n STD riddled nympho's of the 1960's...that barely made it thru the 1970's

and the ozone kill'n fly trapp'n shoulder padder'n multi task'n friendship pinners of the 80's 

my gloriously self indulgence included...of course

now...before move'n forward with yer judgmental judy eyes...keep in mind

i AM NOT blame'n or shame'n an ENTIRE generational pair of gap genes that i am only personally associated with thru the plethora of off-springs created by my sibs and friendly stalkers (like those before me) i simply am regurgitate'n my insurmountable frustration with those pro-noun parade'n prickers...and the #METOO'ers who want ALL the glory of bein' the latest "trendy" victim of the month...while completely ignore'n simple social courtesies that should'a been taught to them when they were grow'n up (even though they continue to live in the parents basement after the legal age limit into adultville) that i myself have personally come in contact with!

BUTT...let me explain

after i was bein' graciously stalked by some steroidal homicidal knuckle 

dragg'n water buffalo in the park'n lot of a local grocery store in my neck of the woods roughly 10 years ago this week...who i just assumed wanted an autographed selfie of thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionists of their own universe to place above the mantle in his charm'n lil abode...

turns out he was just try'na turn me on by pimp'n me out into a carbon copy of himself...so i signed up the follow'n day after take'n his 3 hr tour (of the steam room...ummm insert laugh here kittens...i'm a proper gurl) and bibbity bobbity boo...10 years later...he turned me from an over grown twink to a grown-up gladiator

years later...i've noticed how the front desk staff went from jubilant jesters

every time i would come to bob fer blue balls in the steam room rigorously run thru my 45 minute work out routine at my neighborhood uptown LA FITNESS...

to the pissed off piranha's "work'n" (and i use that term as loose as my last failure) the counter at any given TCBY's in any given mall...just cuz they can't be bothered to DO THEIR PAID FUCK'N JOB...all while have'n a totally tough time decide'n whether to slide right or left on their latest tinder matches while COMPLETELY ignore'n actual pay'n customers like myself that they should be check'n it and out!

but it ain't just the self imposed comatosed scoliosis'd counter help 

that's turned me into some nail bitten...metamucil martini'd...murder she wrote marathon'n...earl grey tea bagg'n...soon-to-be AARP cunt mobile...it's also ALL those insubordinate brain dead shopp'n ferrets...of ALL ages...from cow-town'n tweekers to trader joe'n geekers...trendy tantrum'd trannies to coupon clipp'n grannies...who absolutely REFUSE to return their shopp'n cart to the correct storage facility after their purchase...in the correct position...

instead...toss'n them off  in the center entrance to the store like a pimp toss'n a hooker outta a move'n vehicle all cuz they didn't make bank one nite...or let'em run loose in the park'n lot like a small child who just came home from a ritalin'd party

and since i'm fly'n high on my bicker'n brookstick...there's one more thing

fer all you 2 wheel'n huff-n-puffers out there who think that they're actually save'n the planet by take'n up a full driver's lane or sometimes 2...move'n at the speed of a petrified snail in a french bistro...cause'n a complete traffic jam when there ain't even any planned marathon or fuck'n rush hour...instead of just ride'n single file with yer band of mary jane puff'n...bernie bro'n ho's...CUNT PUHLEEZ!

my 4 wheel medication has a damn scratch in it and keeps skipp'n dur'n my fav-o-rit pill...plus i gotta heavy foot...

so DO THE MATH!

and GET OFF MY DRESS!

the snatch game

there are many many many methods of madness...

thee elusively exclusive single non heterosexual...myself included... must endure to find that perfect void filler fer the nite...only cuz their too lazy to commit suicide...or at the very least...fer the next 5 minutes until yer ACTUAL friends decide to trot their A double snakes over and pick yer perky A double snakes up fer a nite of regret by morn'n!

though it may seem demean'n...it's the world we live in...

us single gentle"laydee's" and not so gentle"laydee's"...have been reduced to sell'n ourselves like a well worn out used car to the highest low life you can find on line...under subtle hastags that suit you best like... #polesmoker...#buttpirate...#salamismacker...#onemansodomandgomorrah #ignorantincubus...#acheapwhore or #THROATPLUNGER...
just to get noticed these days

their is no more inter"action" anymore for the most part...it's just cheap...

enter"pain"ment to pass the time on line...it's like a Baskin Robbins of sexual frustration...many savory flavors to pick from...that YOU or THEY will just...most likely...take a taste test from with colorful verbiage and pictures...but eventually end up pass'n them up just cuz ya don't feel like waste'n yer gas fer some supposed hot ass...plus...there's a better flavor within walk'n distance that'll never show up anyways

in prehistoric times...caveman would dress up in their sunday best on a friday nite and head out to the local diner to share a brontosaurus burger and head home and pound it out til the stegosaurus's came home

 by the 1800's...it was all about the size of yer hat that really impressed yer slutty suitor

in the 1900's...it was best to wear match'n outfits in case you were caught chipp'n yer date's teeth by some treacherous non homosexual...you could get away with say'n that you were just play'n doctor with yer twin brother...
(oh those tricky lil knob jockeys) 

once the 70's rolled around...the sun would set as you roller skated to the closet Donna Summer discotheque...while display'n the correct color coded hanky in yer back pocket in order to find that perfect fancy fruitcaker taker that you were in the mood for that even'n...or just fer a simply quick afternoon delight

in the decadent 80's...it was all about tight shorts and pricey escorts...

and though it was the rise of QUEEN M...

it was also unfortunately the rise of AIDS...which meant you had to rethink yer animalistic instincts and wrap yer willy in rubber...porn was yer safest go to...to go to...to bust yer nut...so you would be invited over to yer friends and have an old fashioned ball buster party in the storage space above their parents garage...spank'n it while flipp'n thru their dad's back issues of Beaver Hut magazine
 (but secretly...you were just there fer the salami sword fights)

though the 90's were dominated by ritual bathers grunge...

playtime consisted of  phone line fantasies...sidewalk sales and park'n lot predators...though i would turn down 99% of the participants (the margin of error of course is plus or minus 2-20)...only cuz i didn't need another reason to have the doctor prescribe me a cure that would take 3 to 4 weeks to cure...so instead...i opted fer someone close enough to the top of the food chain...by stroll'n fer a troll in the wee hours of the nite in the park...fer a ride home...cuz i was too tired to walk

and don't you whores start point'n fingers...i wasn't there alone

once the millennium came out...everyone was come'n out...

i fer one...was satisfied eat'n fer one on one fer a change...fer some change...not once...not twice...and by the third time...i knew i no longer wanted to be a laydee of the nite...cuz i figered i needed to evolve beyond the bar stools and the bad morn'n after breath mints i picked up from the nite before

now with everything bein' built on mistrust or absolute disgust...

from blurred and/or photochopped pix...most are just absolute on-line dicks with no pricks (hey everyone has their weakness) and it's become harder and harder...(and still without the use of a lil blue pill i might add)...to be bothered waste'n yer time or space to get yer "skyrocket in flight"

listen...i have no problems with relationships...i've had my share...BUT...

(and trust me...there always is one) 

even though i'm still "living for love"...i've done my charity work fer the time bein' with the last socially retarded...chemically dependent...emotionally unavailable but incredibly attractive and very loveable mo' i was with...and regardless of all the hoops and fruit loops i'll have to encounter along the way to find "the one" in the distant future...which in all seriousness...

is about as real as the unicorn...i'll do it all over again...someday!

but let's be real kittens...no self respect'n...self indulgent hussy...from twink to twi-lite years...wants to should have to be bobb'n fer blue balls in the steam room on a friday nite...while yer still hope'n to find that perfect #1...that isn't completely full of #2

who knows how the future of fantastic fornications will play out...

but i fer one...plan on participate'n!

now get off my dress!