picture it kittens...it's 1984 and Miss Ciccone was the shit...sitt'n at #2
it's not all that uncommon fer real common folk down on their luck or not
to expect to be pampered like a princess in exchange fer lower'n their standards along with their dignity just so they can avoid have'n to tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen...pour'n themselves a cup of ambition...yawn'n stretch'n try'na come to life
i mean who out there doesn't hate deal'n with the fuck'n rush hour and road closures on a daily basis?
and fer those point'n their fingers at those who desperately wanna know how to marry a millionaire...well they're just lie'n thru their jean nate' after bath body splash!
think about it fer a minute...we're all taught at an early age to tap dance
like a trained trollop in front of our gastric bypassed grand parents or our arthritic aunts and uncles every time they pop in fer a visit in hopes to earn some monetary affection in the form of a small gift or plain old cold hard cash even when it's not yer birthday
i outta know...i worked an easy 5 spot outta my aunt and soon to be uncle
separately on the same day at 9 years old in 1980 when they came to visit on the farm so i could get a lift to Kresge's store in downtown Winona just to be the princess lay'n between a Solo and Skywalker sammich!
i myself never gave it a second thought though i thought fer one second
what my life would've been like if i had an unlimited expense account at someone else's expense? then i remembered as i dug into the archives of the hippocampus trunk of my brain one lazy afternoon with a couple of stalkers while sipp'n on a spirits to lift my own spirits at a tacky tiki bar...i almost had!
the 1st time was in my very late early 20's when i became absofuckinlutely
addicted to the free phone lines when i spotted them in the back pages of the weekly rag i would read on my lunch break much to Peetrinella's giddy displeasure…well this one particular caller who i'd give'n my personal digits to desperately wanted to set up an afternoon delights of sorts...tittilate'n my thoughts with untold treasures i thought i would never receive in my lifetime at the time
proclaim'n he could shower upon me a new car...a condo…a closet full of clothes...an endless atm machine…
and a multitude of european escapades over any rainbow i desired...
and the cherry on top of this salacious sundae was that i could personally pick from his bevvy of beefy bodied builders that built fer his construction company to meet all my rectal rendezvous needs in return to ONLY hold his hand in public...it all seemed like a simple request i simply couldn't pass up!
well...once the date was set...he politely asked me if i wanted anything
to drink of which diet coke was my heroin at the time and it was a particularly parch'n day so my wish would come true i was told...unfortunately...as i waited gleefully under the tree shadow outside my apartment build'n as not to burn my sensitive lily white flesh desperately hope'n that some diet coke "daddy warbucks" would soon be seen on the horizon...
unfortunately my dreams became shattered when i noticed some wart hog in a wind breaker carry'n a 20 once bottle of my thirst quench'n drug and as thirsty as i was that day i could not deal with my dungarees and my dignity on his damn floor like a callous calculated whore d’oeuvre
it would be 20 years later that i found out by trade'n war stories with my X
bf's mom...that said wart hog was a married man who had passed away and that his wife had actually given a cool 5mill to her late meal ticket's "hand holder" in another state that she was well aware of as he had bequeathed his pop tart my promised lifestyle in his will if i'd only hold his blood sausaged phalanges!
BUTT wait...there's more
when the age of the dot coms started to burst at the seams...it seemed
only appropriate since i was now in arms length of my 30's to reevaluate my value and since Willy Wonka was the only sugar daddy that i'd ever known...i thought i'd experiment and expand my horizons and found myself fill'n out a profile as a joke instigated by a friend to fill my "sweet tooth" curiosity...never believe'n fer a cotton candy minute that the site was actually real let alone ever get a response...however a week later i did receive a message from some confectionary cash cow in a dusty grey mens warehouse bogo suit and a jazzy pink tie
i replied back with my new cell number at the time and soon i would
receive a call from some maxi pad invite'n me to my interested parties hotel fer a formal interview...i thought what in the shit is this? i've interviewed fer many jobs but never fer ones beginn'n with blow! i of course bothered not to apply to their retarded request fer some inquisition acquisition
it would be almost 10 years later before i once again found myself at
the cash crossroads cross'n the road on a chilly nite before christmas to meet up with some money bags who tracked me down thru a facebook search with a private message that he was come'n to town fer biz and thought i was "adorable" (ummm...his words...NOT MINE!)
my 1st instinct i thought before decide'n to accept his request to chat was
hmmm...i haven't been called adorable since one of my grade school teachers in the 80's had me stay after school to work on a paper machete project of Kermit the frog and Miss Piggy fer some valentines contest on the radio that she wanted to enter where she would eventually go on to take full credit fer my hard work and win herself a Maytag washer/dryer combo who told me how adorable i was and had the most beautiful bedroom brown eyes (true story) HEY! i didn't know if she was tell'n me the truth or not but the truth is i didn't really care...flattery will get you everywhere! then i thought...HOLD UP! this was my profile pic i had up at the time...
so was he tell'n me that he was some sorta pervie who wanted to manage me as one of his latest milk carton models?
suffice it to say...i decided to throw caution to the wind and leave the last
year of my 30's dignity at the doorsteps since he tried ease'n my cautious mind by sweeten'n the pot and offer'n me a pair of teardrop ruby earrings and what gurl can say no to that i ask you?
Madonna's 2nd X hubby's movie had just been released at this particular
space in time and mentioned he wanted to take me to it after a fancy dinner at some spendy downtown eatery where you can't even super size yer fries so i knew this guy meant business therefore i threw on my best pressed lime green pedal pushers and topped them off with a snazzy sangria dyed blouse (compliments of some cuntessa at the christmas party fer work the nite before) then hopped on the #6 after doin a #2
he texted me his room number and said he'd have the door ajar when i arrived and to just walk right on in...the only thing that went thru my mind
on the bus ride to my lottery ticket...i mean date...was that i hope this Bruce Willisey/Richard Gere-ish looker wasn't to pushy when it came to my privates...however as i exited the bus and the elevator doors closed lift'n my up to his room i thought who am i kidd'n...i'm no spring chicken...
my eggs have long been hatched and i'll most likely never get this offer again since my 4th decade was right around the corner plus he would be shocked as shit to finally meet the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe in person so i threw all my moralistic endeavors down the elevator shaft and walked thru his door...unfortunately i would be the one who was shocked as shit cuz my money bragg'n Bruce Willisey/Richard Gere-ish guru
looked more like tv's polident pariah Ernest Borgnine lean'n back in bed with his head tilted to recreate the look that he looked like in his pic he sent me...that was take'n like over 200 years ago i swear!
i never liked fish'n as a past time however this was the 1st time i was bein'
totally fuck'n cat fished and he was ready to mount me at any minute...i mean why not? i ain't bragg'n (that much) nevertheless i was a total catch fer this fossilized fisherman do you understand me?
i figered i had 2 options at this point...i could either make him feel like
a geriatric genie that needed to be put back in his bottle...give'n a suppository after his lime jell-o and tucked into bed or stand my ground and put back on my purity shield panties i had subsequently stuffed in my blazer on the way to his room (hey i'm an optimistic opportunist...don't be some judgemental judy)
turns out my spirits were up while sipp'n on the spirits with him durin' our
dinner...the movie was just the perfect chaperone i needed to keep him from clutch'n my crotch and as the even'n came to a close luckily my clothes would never end up as a puddle in the middle of his hotel floor though he wanted to see me the next nite to give me somethin' fer xmas unfortunately i wasn't available since i was celebrate'n it with my aunt Ellen but assured him the nite after i would deck his halls
it would be his last nite in town so he laid out all his cards on the table
the morn'n i arrived back to his room once again and he proceeded to tell me how he owned some chemical plant in some california city and that he was worth millions and that his last arm candy who apparently looked very similar to me was given $150g's as a severance package when they ended their relationship after 2 years...stunned i contemplated his somewhat generous offer then said "you think i'm only worth $150,000?"
well i would ultimately counter offer him before i put back on my sunglasses and walked myself out the door!
flash forward to my current state of distress and the mess i'm in...hunt'n
fer work durin' this damn panic pandemic still after gett'n screwed over by some snaky oil paint'n salesman and i received this very message in my insta account recently...SHIT! now what the fuck do i do?
eh! i'm done chase'n after that damn dream...my odds are probably better pick'n my own balls!
now GET OFF MY DRESS!
