I AIN’T CLOWN’N AROUND

with the season of madness and mayhem now in full bloom...it's time fer

  sweater weather...whether you like it or not and if yer A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G like me (you of course can subtract 10 points immediately from yer personality if you ARE NOT...oh and also loose my number while yer at it kitten cuz i ain't got time to explain myself anymore) anywho'zll'ding...that means it time to cuddle up to some chilly thrillers with my personal choice involve'n anything clown or clown related and of course my all time fav-o-rit bein' the colorful campiness from 1988 titled "KILLER KLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE"

then there's the retell'n of the killer clown from 2017 known as PENNYWISE from the brilliant STEPHEN KING novel "IT"

the lesser known creepiness from 2019 is "WRINKLES THE CLOWN" who you could supposedly call to scare the live'n fecal matter outta the colons of kids in the sunshine state 

and lastly on my list of overly painted bozo bastards is "VULGAR" from 2000 about a miserable bday party clown fer unappreciative pint sized shit buckets struggle'n to make ends meet...who loves and lives his career path until he decides to go out on a limb by expand'n his horizons and become a gay clown stripper fer bachelor parties in New Jersey and soon regrets his decision

once my marathon of clown carnage was completely over i had laid back  

in bed with my peek-a-boo pj's on and wrapped in my Tracey Turnblad cock roach comforter... 

with my mug completely molested in a St Ives mint julep mud mask...it got me to think'n about all the past killer clowns i've had run in's where i...thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...

could'a easily been written in as some tawdry yet twisted movie of the week!

BUTT...let's get to it shall we?

so let's go back in time to the spring of 1990 when i was on my lil lunch 

break at the Children's Theater in the Minne-Apple and had discovered an ad at the back of the local fag rag i was flipp'n thru at the time...about meet'n local singles in the area...well...me bein' just'a spring chicken plucked from the bowels of a small minnesotan town to fend fer myself in the big cold hard city...i was like a lotus flower ready to bloom so i called the line and a week later i decided to meet my very 1st big city kinky clown at a local non heterosexual intoxication station in the downtown Minne-Apple area on 18+ nite since i was just barely 20 at the time

this was before i was with car...so i basically hadda check on flight schedules from St Paul to Minneapolis to meet this guy...cuz i was tired of the 3 bus transfers i hadda take to work on a daily basis that always was a fuck over moment when the weather was bad or cuz some road rage'n rectal pirate hadda get to Costco Crazy Daze Deals before the sale ended on anchovies and briskets by cutt'n off someone in front of my bus

by the time i had reached our desired destination...i reluctantly fergot my 

ID back at my place of residence at the time and i was not about to rebook a flight back just to get it...unfortunately the gammorean guard at the front door hadda cop an attitude with me and couldn't be bothered in the slightest by my desperate pleas to just let me pass on by...

even after batt'n my daddy long leg lashes at him...

so i waited patiently across the street at some primitive speak'n station fer roughly 10 minutes to see if said phone trade would come out and recognize me

minutes later...what looked like the description of the gentleman caller 

that i had secretly lusted after in my mind from bus to bus as i made my way to downtown Minneapolis (hey...you gotta step inside my mind fer just a minute to understand where i was goin with this) anyways...he would cross the street and we exchanged typical bullshit banter fer about 5 minutes and though he fit the description he mentioned on line fer the most part (well except fer the part how he had inverted the numbers he used to describe himself) he compared himself to savory sveedish meatballer DOLPH LUNGREN...

though he resembled more of a sveedish meatball with an over grown cum catcher to cover up his snaggle teeth and marinate'n in paco rabanne cologne so of course you can imagine how i would feel some sorta hesitation in me...

only cuz this would be the 1st time i thought i was gonna become deflowered...perhaps!

he asked me if i wanted to go to his place in uptown...and me bein' totally

unfamiliar with the Minneapolis area and it's surround'ns at this point in time...i asked him where uptown was and he explained it was only about 5 miles away (keep in mind kittens...it's 10:30pm on a warm spring weekend...with winds outta the west at 10 to 15 miles per hr) so i asked where his car was and his response was that he didn't have one but it was such a nice nite out that he suggested we just walk instead of cabb'n it back to his butcher shop...i mean bungalow

now here me out...i don't mind a dance in the dark...a drink in the dark

hell...i don't even mind a dick (or 2) in the dark...but there ain't no way in H-E-double hockey stix that i am walk'n 5 miles thru the dimly lit streets of some city i knew nothing about at the time...though i remember he said we could take a short cut thru some Loring Park and it wouldn't be as long...i still resisted and said i was gonna hop on the bus back to St Paul and i would never hear from my 1st date ever again...

well except fer the fact that he called me the next day ask'n what i thought of a 2nd date so i thought don't be a prick about it and told him politely that i was look'n fer someone closer to the top of the food change...i mean closer to my age!

forward to a year later and i was now live'n in the uptown area with my

very 1st roomie at the time Doug (who i no longer dig anymore just FYI) we were as inseparable as a moth to a flamer (in a non sexual way) bs'n one lazy afternoon when he came home from a difficult day at the park (hey...i don't judge people's professions...i just report 'em) he happened to have the latest fag rag in his hand that he tossed it on our coffee table...which H-E-L-L-O (we were almost 22 after all) consisted of a large microwave box covered in a printed pillow case...

like most under privileged rectally retarded roomies had done with limited income at the time...cuz we were more concerned about the 3D'sd (dance'n...drink'n and dick'n our days away)

i happened to notice the guy on the cover as the 1st date i ever had when

i came across him on the phone line on one non productive day at work scrubb'n out the urinals just try'na pass time a year earlier...i thought to myself as i picked up the rag...damn...he's in the paper on the front page and i was too damn lazy to walk with him to his dwell'ns that one windy spring nite...what was i think'n?

turns out that it was a good thing that i had listened to the flutterbies in my 

gut that even'n fer a change...cuz 2 months after our dismal date...it turns out my date had gunned down 21 year old Joel Larson in Loring Park in the back...and then a month later...he went after former state senator 48 year old John Chenoweth with his 19 year old trick of the nite Cord Drazst...at bare ass beach along the Mississippi river...luckily fer Drazst though he was able to bar hop with his buddies after that horrible incident...that i would run into on occasion while bar hopp'n...that is....until he was 32 ((leave it to my dearest friend Peetrinella and her X to indoctrinate me into non discretional pick-up life at bare ass beach in the midnite hour just a year earlier) apparently my "date" aspired to be the latest serial killer at that moment in time (everyone's gotta have goals i guess)

don't even get me started about the 3 days after i'd moved to Milwaukee..

in the winter of 1992 and the Dahmer trials where all over the front pages (not that i hadda worry if he wasn't caught yet...well...cuz he only liked dark meat apparently)

or how i used to check in Andrew Cunanan at the gym i was work'n at downtown once i had moved back to Minneapolis before he went on his shoot'n spree...

or my other date i had met in my early middle 20's late one nite or early one morn'n (depend'n on how you wanna look at it) who's left prosthetic arm fell off onto my entry way floor when i let him inside my apt (just a simple minor detail he fergot to mention to me when we were chatt'n on line i guess) now don't get me wrong...

i have absolutely zero issues with the handicap so don't turn this into some PC picket parader on my supple snow white A-double snakes...nonetheless...i informed Dr Hook that it would be best if he could kindly just pick up his appendage and look fer another peter'd pansy to poke at that nite!

then there was that one time pre-wanna-be-serial-killer-date...in the hot

summer of 1990 when i was wait'n fer my cuz's hubs to pick me up from St Paul on the corner 3 blocks from where i currently reside...when this juiced up shirtless hot tamale pulled a gigantor hunt'n knife on me late one nite and told me to "get off his block" and that is a direct quote (cuz apparently...2 nites later someone did not take his demands so seriously)

and lastly was the time i hadda save a failed fling from his "str8" married 

feckless fuck from Fridley that he had met online (the same place i had met my 2nd fling a month later in 1990) and said fling had lured him into false pretenses to pick him up and gett'n a free ride over to my apt in hopes of a meaningful menage a trois i guess without my knowledge and without give'n him "the ride of his life" like he had promised apparently so i was left to MEAN GENE OKERLUND this impromptu cage match in my front yard on the corner of crackville avenue and hooker junction in the wee hours of the nite with these 2 unhinged horny hustler's (and honestly...i should'a got paid fer that one!)

if i were a cat...statistics say i should have only about 3 more lives left...

so until another clown comes along...GET OFF MY DRESS!

ONE fer THE RECORD BOOK pt. 3

hey if yer look'n to shake up the spring season'ns with a lil joy fer yer very

own pleasure now that it's in full swing...may i suggest find'n a crowded family function or packed shit fer brains hole in the wall sports bar where everyone's IQ in the room combined is the same as the alcohol content in just one can of schlitz malt liquor on game day and ask the remote control king/queen or brain dead waiter/waitress that there's a GOLDEN GIRLS marathon on and they'll get a $5 bonus tip fer a quick channel change at the bottom of the 9th durin' the 4th quarter

as everyone's fav-o-rit dribbler scores a home run with the puck in the pool...their reaction will be priceless...trust me...however if yer not feel'n that brazen...then click here fer pt. 1 and click here fer pt. 2 to catch up to the excrutiate'n conclusion

so there i was one sunday afternoon at my neighborhood coffee shop... 

read'n over pages of regurgitated crap about the football fans (the VIKES in particular) try'na inform the social media disdain fer the game that if they didn't like the outcome of the game then they outta put down the fuck'n pickled pringles and PBR and sign up to play at the next try-outs...finish'n up my latest blog while flipp'n thru annoy'n requests on desperadoville...or a4a...which after 3 years of bein' "sucked" into it (pun intended) i simply referred to it as assholes4assholes now

i responded to a simple request by some 20 somethin' tattoo'd potential 

failure to "hang out" (but who in the world does he think  i am...besides thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe) everyone knows that's just hookerville code fer "rock out with yer cock out"

i had nothin' better to do...so i emailed him my digits and finished up my 

over priced non dairy...dairy...mocha frappichino latte chi tea...i mean my plum red bull and headed fer home

a few hours later...after OD'n on rerun's of the hysterically fab-u-less after

school special knock-offs of  "STRANGERS WITH CANDY" an unsuitable friend called pretty much plead'n to get pollinated by yers cruelly...listen here...i haven't resided in desperadoville since the disfucktional era of the 90's when i started work'n at the 90's and though repeat performances have happened from time to time...i'm more into one-of-a-kind treasures these days

so...as the unmemorable caller tried desperately to remind me who they 

were...i picked the phone back up after 2 minutes and noticed a text had come thru though no name was attached...hmmm...who's this? a new pearl at the bottom of my electronical ocean of regrets

i politely interrupted the caller...who now just seemed like a rusted coin 

in the back alley of some dead end street that i had no interest in pick'n up and told them i would donate 10% of my feelings to his skank account

as i played the ping pong text game of who's this?...i realized it was the 20

somethin' from earlier in the day finally gett'n back to me in an untimely manner but why should i be surprised...most 20 somethin's these days have zero clue what a manner is unless it comes in a downloadable app

we made plans to "hang out" as it were...in an hour...when i was done  

file'n my feelin's in the "why not!" drawer and he was done look'n fer the next best thing that was within 15 feet from his reach

a week would go by and while i was enjoy'n bloody's with a stalker of mine

followed by an even fabular dinner while watch'n "KINKY BOOTS" at her palace when all of a sudden the generational gap texted me outta the blue and wanted to "hang out"

after inform'n the above acquaintance of him...they said to invite him over

to join in some robotic pleasantries...however i was in no mood to play a round of "patty cake patty fake" with my new counter help reject from blockbusters so after finish'n dinner and the movie i skedaddled back to my tiny underworld palace fer some pre-fornicational 4 square though once i retreated to my bed this generation was ready to count sheep so off to dreamland it was fer me

by morn'n he had opened the flood gates of his entire life...about how he 

got his drug and alcoholic acrobatic act in tact...that he met me as 80's Boy George on halloween nite a year prior...

BUTT (and you know there always is one dont'cha kittens)

that we had actually met A YEAR EARLIER! at 1st i was like WHAT? then it felt like i was taken a shower at the bates motel!

hmmm...a year earlier?...i don't recall ANY 20 somethin's catch'n my 

interest accept fer a date i reported on when i began this ramblin'n eyesore of a story about anything and everything when i first created this blog...he said..."you know my dad!" i paused fer a second...then i thought...WTF????

no matter how many times you call may feel compelled to wanna call me "daddy" I AM NOT YER FATHER! 

**ABORT**ABORT**ABORT**

another 10 years would pass and there i was once again recently lay'n 

back in my boudoir chatt'n amongst the sea of desperado's online vy'n fer my "attention" in the middle of the nite after wake'n up from one of my multiple narcoleptic fantasies and guess who just happened to hit me up? hmmmm...well let's just say...it wasn't irish throat plunger Colin Farrell...

however...after a week of  electronical ping pong banter...i decided since i have the power that it was time to finally sink this tenacious titanic lunchbox of hormones once and fer all with the full power of the block button...

this saga has F-I-N-A-L-L-Y come to an end...now GET OFF MY DRESS!