FROSTED FLAKERS pt.1

i was a big fan of that chemically enhanced mouthful of confectionery fun

 marinate’n in utter juice that was utterly disgust’n as were most of us that grew up with that fuck'n hypnotize'n tigers roar in the 80's...turns out though that they weren't all that fuck'n grrrrreat after all...since i ended up gett'n 8 damn cavities from O.D.'n on em and fall'n into a complete confectionery coma once a week durin' my tenderly traumatic teen years...you'd think i'da learnt my lesson after the 3rd bowl

when it comes to date'n a potential failure...that could very well turn into yer future failure...cuz let's be real here...you only really got'em on loan...since...well death is inevitable...so there's not really an effective "how to" handbook on how to keep them in yer clutches ferever and ever

 it doesn't matter whether yer some back comb'n...booze guzzle'n breeder...in daisy dukes too sizes too small...puff'n on a 2 pack of Marlboro golds on a daily basis...shoot'n out bastard children in the trailer park

like a willy water bug sprinkler system by the WHAM-O corporation...

or some highly pitched bitch that squeals like some blow monkey on meth...think'n they're the crem de'la'fem of the crop tops...but look more like a bloated blood sausage burst'n in their BVD's and need the jaws of life to escape them...constantly consume'n the spotlight on themselves...

either case...we all have our rules when hunt'n fer that special fucktard to call our very own

i used to find that when i was search'n fer a potentially interested failure...

i preferred someone closer to the top of the food chain...that would jump off a cliff...while chant'n my name when they would cum by see’n me...

though personally...i find just simply wait'n fer 3 simple dates before we're both make'n monkey love like greased up yorkshire pigs at the county fair...much more sufficient these days...keep in mind though...this doesn't mean i wanna move in or get married by date #4 or anything like that...

i mean seriously kittens...i don't have a lifetime membership discount card

to any local hardware store nor do i have any desire to own stock options at any move'n company...

i'll just leave that to the professionals

of course fer the purpose of this melodrama...most of my love life has been played out like any of  Avril Levigne's biggest hits...and eventually...

unfortunately...just like the album...it's completely over...mind you though...just like anyone else's regrets...you just have'ta pick yerself back up and eventually move on to the next one without any regrets to start...or at least i do anyways

i have never felt the need to rent a room in desperadoville...nor did i ever

practice my baton twirl'n in some pathetic pity parade charade just cuz society deems you used up and worn out at a certain age...nor do i desire the recipe to bake that tired and crusty "oh don't worry...you'll find someone out there someday" pity cake at 425 degrees

yes i can agree when it's good...it's sooo good...but let's get real here if i

may...it's way more fun to spend yer hard earned benjamins on the one person you know that'll really appreciate you fer you...and that is YOU!...without have'n to get permission from yer annoy'n pathetic half...half the time...and especially when you add other expensive shit buckets into the equation that have ruined yer waistline beyond belief and milk'd yer piggy bank dry just about every other week til yer kick'n up daises!

i've done my fair share of charitable acts thru-out my love life...date'n from

 thee emotionally unstable in my late 20's...also known as my "steroided stallion"

thee socially retarded in my middle 30's...also known as my "mister fister sister"

thee chemically dependent in my early 40's...also known as my "manipulative methhead"

and thee emotionally unavailable in my later 40's...also know as my "yet to be determined" if it really is worth one more round of invest'n any more time with anyone by the time i hit my 50's

after 3 decades of this...i didn't need to date any more judgemnental judy's

and decided it was time to rethink about me fer a change and dip back into the insane single lane...oh don't take that the wrong way...each and everyone of those frosted flakers of failure from my past did mean somethin' to me at some point obviously since they were with me...and i'll admit...i do...albeit very little...hold a very small portion to be polite to the demise of it all

but just like a carton of eggs...they all had their expiration date apparently!

so i figer'd it was time to save money on therapy and decided to pack up

those things that many refer to as "feelings" and shove em to the back of my limbic system in my cranium...hit the road and just pump and dump fer a while...safely of course...when needed

tune in next week fer the excrutiate'n concussion of FROSTED FLAKERS

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

date'n dementia's

i...like many chosen single non heterosexuals...have a plethora of  "drugs" to choose from...when we're choose'n a potential failure as a shipmate...

 and by "drugs"...i mean options!

listen kittens...i paid attention to Nancy in the 80's when she simply said

"JUST SAY NO"

"if i wanna get high...i'll add another inch to my heels"...P-E-R-I-O-D!

so put that in yer crack pipe and smoke it...or better yet...learn to control yer destruction...so you can function at my junction

thee only drug i want any future failure to O.D. on...is ME!

BUTT i digress...

in yer 20's you were judge...jury...executioner...defendant and plaintiff on yer look and what you wore when you went out with yer gaggle of gays and the one token fag hag who felt like the luckiest bitch on the planet

the dollars bill's would flow like a whore with halitosis at any given bar on any given nite of the week...which usually consisted of cover charges and cock breath!

i somehow inevitably would become some sorta surrogate therapist way...

too many times...to one too many meals on wheels look'n fruit baskets who happened to be some inebriated idiot that was environmentally delayed...and expected me to find his foot'n just cuz he gave me his 2-4-1 drink ticket!

eventually i would turn down my reason not to have another doctor...

 prescribe me a cure that would take 3 to 4 weeks to clear up...instead...i opted to rummage around fer the leftovers at any bar close...fer someone that was close enough to the top of the food chain...OR

stroll fer a troll in the wee hours of the nite in the park fer a ride home...

and don't you wholesomeless whores start point'n fingers at me like some sharp shooter...cuz i wasn't there alone

by the time i hit my 30's...i knew i was goin' to become a romantic wreck...

or deemed a tragedy in a tiara if i wasn't involved with a mate to date fer more than 24 hrs...and so the clown show would begin  

not once...not twice...and by the third time...i was no longer a laydee...but i did it anyways...just 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...

plus...eat'n fer one is never really as much fun...and cuz i was too lazy to commit suicide!

well...20 years later on...and end'n out my 40's sooner than expected...i feel like i'm back in my early late 20's once again and look'n better than my middle 30's...but with alot less hope...alot less hair and alot less tolerance fer find'n a potential failure in my own age box...oh...don't take that the wrong way...i've learned to accept my new check box...without all those unsightly stretch marks...or awkward family reunions

i'm just not that desperate enough to settle fer sangria and sausage links for breakfast just yet

bein' hit with the on goin recession to my non existent piggy bank doesn't

help either...it's made a HUGE impact on the way us 40+ single non heterosexuals go about conduct'n our "free time"

no one can afford the $10 covers...or feel that we should have to anymore

since we never had to when we were bask'n in our over indulgent youth...nor do we want to be bothered by some anal antiseptic past his ambercrombie due date with a $200 8-ball...who refuses to give up their crown as disco queen...show'n off their personally trained abs...under an over priced GUCCI tank to a bunch of twinks and tweekers

for the most part...the only choices out there are between meth heads or manic depressants who've replaced their overhead lamps with dollar store tea candles in hopes you don't notice that they had to cancel their gym...

membership...cuz they're still try'n to pull off that sparkly crop top that they bought on their first trip to Saint-Tropez in their 20 years...without the use of the jaws of life to get it over their head

and yer lucky if you will ever get to meet the photo-chopped fucker on the

other end of the informational highway anyways...cuz the botox bar has been raised so damn high...that they're terrified someone might notice

when and if ya finally do...they're usually try'n to recreate the image they sent ya by pose'n like some sorta age defy'n egyptian hieroglyphic when

  you open the front door...just to satisfy yer obvious desperate yearn'n to be acknowledged by a warm blooded entity...in person...at the very least...you have a chance to start an actual conversation...online...it's just all about delete...delete...delete!

and speak'n of my own experiences...it's no surprise that viagra sales are soar'n thru the roof when all the things that make a date with a new mo' interest'n these days are reduced to a simple formula of boredom and

regret...oh and ps...btw...they ought to be personally erect'n a life size crucifix with my name on it...cuz 30 years ago...i was one of thee original governmental test bunnies who got that pill approved fer all those long'n fer erect-creational pleasures

so they to could be energized til the wee hours of the morn'n

well...not too long ago a while back...i received an email from some online porker with an ax to grind with me...who i never had met...that i can recall

from 10 years ago apparently...i thought...oh...what perfect time'n!

lett'n me know that i looked like (and this is a direct quote) "a moron wear'n your shades" thru the downtown mousetrap systems on my daily

 breaks...cuz non verbal communicative passive aggressive behavior is so much more effective and alot more easier form of communication to understand these days (and annoyingly acceptable i might add) with almost everyone...than actually have'n to say face to face "ummm...wanna fuck?"

don't EVEN get me started on unreturnable texts in a timely manner

and you know it's sad...when some green mile look'n change collector...

scouts you out in the skyway on yer many mindless walks...look'n fer enough coinage to get him and his 3 made up kids back to some made up home far far away...but it happens on a daily basis from a merried of other story tellers...yer just conditioned to ignore their request...only to be belittled and berated by them as you keep walk'n by...but fer once it almost made me wanna run to the closest ATM as he caps off his verbal tyrannosaurus tirade with these eloquently body tingle'n words
(i said A-L-M-O-S-T)

"oooiiie...fer a white boy that's some fine ass...i'll tap that any day!" it's like the biggest compliment i'll remember fer as long as i can

basically...it breaks down like this...

online meet-n-greets are like stars from the 2nd cast of Designing Women

no matter how funny Jan Hooks and Julia Duffy were...they would never be able to live up to the originals...

cuz they were no Delta Burke or Jean Smart

                                         

meet'n face to face fer a cuppa caffination or whatever yer drink of choice

may be...is much better than try'n to read a wreck wait'n to happen on-line!

i may have unwillingly surrendered to the online hook up these days...

but i refuse...let me repeat that fer the kittens in the back...REFUSE to surrender my heels...so get over it already!

cuz when ya break it down in the end desperado's...guys in their 20's want

guys in their 40's...who want guys in their 30's...who want guys in their 50's...who want guys in their 20's...and all i want to do is get a damn cocktail before loose'n my dignity to any legal aged box

so it looks like i will need a new kinda "drug"...since my preferred method

apparently is...get this..."ILLEGAL"...plus it gets a bit spendy and is too much trouble try'n to guess the ratio to body frame 

it's human nature...we all possess that undeniable animal instinct...yo'

if you want it...just ask...i just might...if not...don't worry abod' it...but puhleez...GET OFF MY DRESS!