a POWER TRIP!

ever since the beginn'n of time...we...as a society...have been ostracized 

and frowned up by fellow fucktwats with snobbish attitudes who think their shit smells like a garden of earthly delights due to the fact of the monetary class system which they belong to...i mean a prefect example dates back to the stone ages when Betty and Wilma would taunt their fellow neighborhood cave dwellers...cook'n bronto burgers fer their signifigant others...in the latest frocks straight off the runways of the MuuKee MuuKee collection durin' Bedrock's fashion week

hundreds of years would pass and you would think that society would'a

changed their attitude...like they changed their bran intake...towards those less fortunate than themselves and help out their fellow man...but proof came durin' the sink'n of the titanic when those choke'n on their nausiate'n nepotism while bein' served champagne and saltines smothered in cavier...boarded the limited life rafts while their fellow food stampers floated like fish'n bobbers...hopelessy wait'n fer a rescue boat that would never come...much like the last emotionally crippled cock i met 

by the 1980's...the financial gap couldn't have been any further apart

thanx in part to the phony "trickle down effect" that was nothin short of a financial trick fer most that were affected by the posh "policies" put in place by Mr. AIDS Deny'n-Jelly Bean Junk'n-Dementia Dickwad 1981...til the end of the decade

now don't get me wrong...i was ALL about desperately yearn'n to live the opulent lifestyles of the rich and bloated ego riddled affluent folk that were

famously featured every week by that lecherously drunk manatee Mr. Leach...but i knew my paper route wasn't gonna cut it...even though i thought i had started a minature empire by hire'n 3 of my sibs to help deliver the 360 winona shopper papers once a week at $1 per every section that consisted roughly of 90 customers...then built a mini market in my closet and resold them stuff i would find around the house fer exactly a dollar (with a fully enforced no return policy)

fast forward to the year 2000...when i was out enjoy'n a bevy of adult 

beverages with a bunch of my not so close but pleasantly appall’n anally inclined stalkers at some local non heterosexual water'n hole...when they all collectively decided to upgrade our surround'ns and venture to a more prestigious atmosphere so we ended up at one of the oldest colostomitic locations in town

as we waited patiently outside...under the very hot steamy minnesota sun

this particular day...completely parched...anxiously crave'n a river of mind erase'n liquid replenishments...a friend happened to mention to me that i would most likely not be allowed into the premises without first remove'n my follically challenged scalp accessory and trust me...i was not about to have any part of this sharade

that would be like General Veers demand'n Vader to remove his helmet when speak'n to him...it just ain't happen'n!

now listen...i'm all fer follow'n rules and regulations to establishments of a 

 certain "grandeur" (if you will) when occupy'n their premises fer a period of time...BUTT (and you know there always is one) i will not be subjected to the "fashion police" at the front door...who might as well have been in berkinstocks...a barfy floral peek-a-boob blouse and a pair of hysterectomy tight jeans...

but sure as shit...a minute later Miss poly blend would return to inform me that baseball caps were unfortunately not part of their "dress code" with no other explanation

well...i was NOT about to remove my cap without some form of sun 

protection even if i would be seated inside the restaurant...i am thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe after all...and unfortunately my burka was at the cleaners...plus there would've been a ring of indentation around my noggin since i wrap it around my scalp so tight it cuts off any feel'ns of sympathetical emotions towards anyone...

so i simply asked the simple poly blender "i get it...but do you tell ALL yer cancer patients to remove their wigs?" with a perplexed look on her face...she replied..."i'm sorry...let me ask the manager and i'll be right back"

suddenly...my friend burst out in his best center square cackle...

completely blown away that i would have the audacity to say that i had cancer to the front door fraulein...to which i simply replied..."i merely suggested...i never implied that i personally had cancer!" it's not as if my baseball cap was the size of a water buffalo and was gonna obstruct anyone's view in this over priced snobbish eatery

minutes later...the fashion popo grabbed a couple menus and said that i

was give'n the all clear by management to dine in their establishment with my large party of AA drop-outs so she seated us in the back near the kitchen as to not cause any sorta tension with the rest of the patrons no doubt...FINE...no prob!

after take'n our order...i happened to notice that the colostomy bag that

was marinate'n in ben-gay and formaldehyde dressed in her fake pearls and false teeth sitt'n across from our booth that was within ear distance of myself...was act'n like some pissed off potty trainer and stopped our waitress as she was head'n to the kitchen...inform'n her that there was a young gentleman in a cap that shant belong here...to which the waitress simply replied "he has cancer!"

my money is just as green as the next...and i will not be judged by anyone

as long as i practice proper hygiene and regularly wash my dungarees...i know all to well how to play these lil reindeer games cuz trust me...this ain't my first time at the rodeo kittens...

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

happy happy joy joy!

don't you really hate when this happens to ME kittens...so there i was...

home from pump'n it up at the local uninhibited and uninhabitable steam room at the neighborhood church my gym...in the wee hours of the morn'n...all bright eyed and half in the barrel...iron'n out my personal mantra's...along with my unmentionables...peruse'n my daily horrorscope passage...gett'n ready fer my surgical "procedure" mentioned in last weeks highly informative episode

(catch up & touch me right here if ya missed out on the whole shenanigans from the start)

think'n this was gonna be a simple pimple easy breezy sunday stroll...

on an early mid monday morn'n...

perform'n my greatest car concert duet with the likes of one Toni Basil and her greatest hits...why not!

when i realized i now had approximately only 25 minutes to get to my 

 much needed desired destination on the other side clear across town...durin' rush hour...and every last minuscule minute counted...so i wasn't fuck'n around anymore!

pull'n up to the park'n lot...i was greeted with a parade of auto-mobility

 bingo winged patrons try'n park their huv-a-round after choke'n down a plethora of metamucil martini's while enjoy'n a Murder She Wrote marathon before take'n the curlers outta their unmanageable silver hays nest...with a hint of lavender...adorn'n the top of their noggin this particular morn'n...

well...let's just say...i could no longer give 2 shits about piss'n anyone off with my colorful sign language and WTF horn orchestra...much like what's left of my faint beat'n heart that's been recently removed

finally parked...i ended up have'n to do the sugar shuffle all the way thru 

the corridors...skipp'n very gingerly thru all the diabetic dudes and dudettes move'n at the speed of a dyslexic slug with turrets that were block'n a clear path to the check-in counter...cuz i only had a mere 3 minutes to check in

once i made my desired destination...the bubble headed happy herpe that 

greeted me behind the desk said i was not in their system...so i showed her the text that i was sent just less than 24 hrs earlier from their facility...and she says to me "oh my...i'm so sorry...but it says here you're at the wrong location...it's at the other one that's about a mile and a half from here"

S-E-R-I-O-U-S-L-Y???...i did all i could do to find the key to unhinge my

 jaw and recite to her the recently unsanitized sassy & shady sonnet that i had spontaneously composed at the prefrontal cortex of my brain...only cuz the text they had sent me never stated which fuck'n hospital i was to be admitted into...i just went to the one that i had had the consultation with a month earlier...but i knew it would have to wait fer another time...cuz i was runn'n outta time!

by the time i had made my second and hopefully my final destination... 

(20 minutes later of course...with 13 of those minutes wasted deal'n with the polyestered penny pinchers in front of me just try'na leave the park'n lot in their pinto blow-about at the first location) i tried to calm myself down and had hoped to expect that this was gonna be like visit'n one of those massage parlors with a "happy end'n"

that you could find buried behind the Eva Gabor Wig Collection page of yer nana's crossword puzzle magazine...and that they would still fit me in with a bit of a scold'n and perhaps a small late charge...since i was thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe after all...

BUTT of course...

my inclinations and unpopularly popular celeb status were of no concern to the acid-refluxed ferret sitt'n behind the desk...and i would have to be rescheduled fer 3 weeks down the road

oh well...it's MY BIRFDAY (weak)...so HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY TO ME

and yes...it's on the 6th...though i plan on celebrate'n it ALL week (cuz i can) if enquire'n readers wanna desperately know how long i've actually occupied this planet...it's #49...& just look'n to do #69...so don't try and rain on my parade...(i'm already drown'n)...just leave me yer digits if it's past 8...otherwise...

GET OFF MY DRESS!

calorie free transiency

so there i was one lazy saturday afternoon...dressed in my best pressed...

muumuu...with nothin' better to do but get everything done i couldn't get done durin' the week...like groceries...slap the ol' pickle tickler around fer a hot minutes...target run fer ass wipe...

OH YEA...and don't ferget to poop!

instead i opted to hitch hike along the informational highway and complain to the electronical world we've created fer ourselves known as FB

 (side note...to the delusionally perverted out there...remember when FB used to mean "fuck buddies"?)

BUTT...
where was i?...oooooh yea...(insert drool here)

so i sign into FB and made thee 1st earth shatter'n post about how miserable life is cuz it's so fuck'n cold out there and i can't find nothin' to do accept check my post every 10 minutes to see how many people "liked" my post and how many had made a sympathetical comment to my

miserable plight...so i could feel alot better about my miserable self...3 hrs or so would pass before i would finally scrape my perky ass outta bed and crawl into the kitchen to eat some science project that was grow'n in my frigid box...cuz well...i was too lazy to remember i told myself to get groceries the nite before...1st thing in the morn'n...

so to calm my uncontrollable urge to make another utterly and total...

 pathetically sympathetical post...i decided i needed somethin' to wash down the science project i mistakenly swallowed and since i'm pretty sure orange juice should actually be the color of orange...i decided to grab my ice pick...throw on my parka and go on an expedition into my freezer to see if there was any thing that i could rescue...and too my surprise i found buried under a foot of freezer burn...a 1/5th bottle of pomegranate Smirnoff my friend Greta left behind when we had a camp out in my live'n room so many summers ago

i made myself a shitty pomegranate glass of unfiltered happiness with a shot of stale seltzer water...poured in some MN misery...a splash of resentfulness that i didn't win the POWERBALL...a pinch of the terribly intolerable 2's and Dr. Kevorkian's number...and i had made the perfect pick-me-up to go along with my shitty outlook on the day cocktail

after i choked down my swill...i decided to make some very urgent calls...

but unfortunately fer me...the suicide hotline decided to put me on hold!

absofuckinglutely fabulous!

luckily fer me though... there's only a sheet of solid ice between me and the store and the weather was a balmy 5 degree's above frostbite...the buses were runn'n their usual 20 minutes behind their actual posted times...otherwise i would've been a complete bitch about the current

state i was in!...i had 2 choices...either have a complete meltdown...which actually might'a helped clear the fuck'n sidewalks of the lazy fuckers that lived next door so i didn't have to climb over the hills of HOTH...then i remembered...i didn't have the power to breath fire...and since my tauntaun wasn't insured...i could just keep on course...so i did...of course...and hopped aboard the metro transit 45 minutes later

once i reached my destination...everything in the past 4 hours that felt like the weight of the world on my chest...were now no longer aggravate'n me as i stripped off my layers of regret and threw away my bitch blouse to feel comfortable...that is until i was hunted down by some store greeter...

"SIR...i need to see yer I.D!"

s-e-r-i-o-u-s-l-y...after what i just gone thru to get here...

I...thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...is bein' asked fer I.D. to shop fer some groceries?

na-uuh...she DID NOT just say that to ME!

and once again i hear her say... "SIR...i need to see yer I.D!"

ummm...no...i think what you need Bessie is a good dietitian and that trough yer use'n as yer personal buffet table take'n away immediately...(i was merely think'n of her cholesterol intake kittens...i have plenty of pleasantly plumpers i consider my closest friends)...but i didn't wanna argue...so i handed her my I.D. without grill'n up a back hand sammich fer her...i assumed she had had her share fer the day

as i walked around fill'n up my cart with anything that would calm all of the

restless natives beat'n the hunger drums in the pit of my stomach...i wondered...waid'a'minute!...why did i give her my I.D.?...so i marched up to customer service to speak with the mgr on duty

out walks this hefty hideaway gal...who wasn't really hide'n anything to be

 quite honest...so i explained to her why was it needed that i had to give my I.D. to the bloated stegosaurus with the bad bi-leveled oglivie home perm greet'n people at the front door...and she calmly said in her best Ernest Borgnine voice that she shouldn't have

i'm think'n ok...this deep fried trough tail gator spotted me as thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe and just wanted proof to post on her FB page...i get it!
(it's so hard to be me sometimes!)

ummm...i don't think so...the gloves of reason'n were off

the manager got on the loud speaker and said politely...

"Martha please come to the customer service desk"

after Mrs. Dumptruck explained in that typical phony corporate response as to why she took my I.D. to her manager...she had pulled it out from her

tent pockets and handed it over to the IHOP mgr...who looked at it once...looked at me...then held the I.D. closer to her face and looked closer at my face...then all of a sudden they both started smirk'n til they both broke out in complete laughter point'n their claws...

at me!...HUH?...ARE YOU FUCK'N KIDD'N ME WITH THIS?

well i usually hold back my mouth dam...but i'll be damned at this point...

i was gonna let em have it with both barrels...so i grabbed the loud speaker and said..."shoppers...today's blue light special is in customer service...but they ain't so blue...and they most DEFINITELY ain't so light...

but they sure are purdy special...so you'll have to read to 'em r-e-a-l slow...

come gaze at these 2 backward barn yard Miss Piggy mutha fuckers...but please refrain from feed'n them as they hadn't had their feed'n yet today...and you might just become their main course"

i grabbed my I.D. and ran out the door into the freeze'n cold once again...

without any mouth water'n morsels to fill my fuck'n gut...though i wanted to gut anyone that crossed me now cuz my mouth was as dry as the Tatooine desert and my breath was seethe'n like a rage'n bi-polar monkey slut in sunday school 

then i woke up

WTF...it was all just a dream?....eh!...it was time to make some breakfast...

as i opened the fridge...i noticed nothin' but some strawberries wrapped in last season's faux fur collection

OK!...this ain't happen'n...so you best get off my dress!