perfect time'n

let's hop on our hotwheels and go back in time...shall we kittens!

it was the winter of 95...actually wait...let's go back a lil further...to the summer i did my 1st 69 in 91...when i met my very first Minne-Apple

"friend" i made off the 1-800-eat-me-i'm-a-danish phone line...

 before all the .com's and grinder's came into production...named Curtis...he was this statuesque blonde...which...unless you were some peroxided pariah like my high school hard on Billy Idol or Madonna...

i normally had zero interest sexually in fathom'n sinful fornicational thoughts with you in the room but Curtis had a presence...and though it only amounted into an occasional hook-up from time to time...i was hooked on him...unfortunately he was also hooked...but on other sorta "recreational entertainment" 

that i just couldn't participate in...due to that republican toothpick...Nancy in the 80's...gett'n under my skin

it took roughly 2 months to finally find out what he did fer a live'n (or at least part-time anyways)...as he was worried about my reaction apparently...and told me i was never to grace the stage...but years later...there i was and i would carry that same torch when i meet any potential interest...luckily for me though...i don't give two fucks about others reactions to it anymore! 

so Curtis took me to work one even'n...which...at the time...felt like being in line at Studio 54 to me...(unlike the dilapidated shit hole it's unfortunately become these days) cuz i was 3 months shy of my legal age to enter any bar...

and goin from flats to fuck-me-pumps...was a HUGE deal (much like me)...i had always seen the enormous sign when i would pass by it on the bus head'n to work...and so desperately wanted inside this pandora box...it was a far cry from flick'n burs off my granimals or pick'n weeds in the strawberry fields on the farm...i was totally over the moon when he told me he was an actual perform'n illusionist and he could get me in to meet the rest of the performers

my 1st taste and fascination with the world of illusion...was thanx in part to being sick one day in 7th grade and watch'n the original Oprah Winfrey

my fav-o-rit open-minded surrogate uncle...the Phil Donahue show...his guest that day absolutely stunned me...and i was hooked like a junkie on heroin

Jimmy James was his name (and still is kittens...he's not gone to that glittered stage in the sky just yet)...but anywho...i swore it was Marilyn Monroe's reincarnation...back from the dead...cuz he sang "diamonds are a girls best friend" to perfection! and of course Divine's brilliant performance in the original HAIRSPRAY

i knew become'n a perform'n illusionist was to be my destination!

early one morn'n...at roughly around 2 am...i received a call from Curtis tell'n me to get my ass dressed and meet him downstairs cuz he had a stretch limo with his bevy of beauties inside and wanted me to join them...

ummm...ya right!..."i work at 6 am and there ain't no limo in crackville at 2am...g'bye"...i recall mutter'n from my narcoleptic nap

curiosity killed this C-U-Next-Time...and sure enough...i go to the window downstairs...and seen this huge ass black stretch monstrosity on wheels...wait'n fer me to get in...so i threw on my over-sized studded jacket (to give me an impossibly smaller waist than i already had...at the time) and my imitation doc martens and out the door i flew like a humming bird on crack

as the back door opened...inside i met the best Cher illusionist of the Minne-Apple...EVER! alnog with Annie Lennox...Marion...Miles...Curtis and some other gurl (who's name i can't remember at the moment cuz my metamucil martini kicked in)...who took me on a tour of the Minne-Apple i'll never ferget

over to that gal's house who was gonna make it after all...

then down around a quick jaunt thru the million dollar homes on lake of the aisles...where the limo driver was ordered to stop...and all 6 beauties got out...ran up to this open porched mansion...lifted up their even'n gowns...and proceeded to paint the porch in their alcoholic binge from the previous nite...as me and the limo driver busted our A double snakes off  in the limo...laugh'n like mad

a postcard that could totally read "welcome to minneapolis...aint' it a drag!"

2 years later...Curtis would surprise me with tickets to see my high school hero perform'n at the GAY 90's during his solo tour and could get me back stage to meet him...but even though it never transpired...i was on cloud 9

BOY's look had dramatically changed since his rise with Culture Club...but he still sounded exceptional...though he walked off stage after half way thru the 2nd nite cuz of some non heterosexual's who couldn't shut their traps and was...i'm guess'n...not feel'n very friendly to any of his fans at all

2 years after that... i entered and won a look-a-like contest at the 90's...for the release of Boy George's most excellent cd "cheapness and beauty"

and his 1st brilliant autobiography called "take it like a man"...why not!

contest rules stated i was to recieve an autographed autobiography...and to my surprise...it was not christened with the BOY's john handcock

well...that's cuz...as the mgr told me...i would get exclusive backstage passes to meet and have the BOY personally sign my book...i nearly died!

2nd times a charm right?...HA!...does NO go with WAY?

the nite of the show...i went balls to the walls full on disco devil look..

and with the A-OK from my dear dear Peetrinella...i could barely contain my urinary track...from goin off track...for i was but a few short hours away from meet'n my eye opener since the tender and supple age of 13 when he said so eloquently "do you really want to hurt me"

i had paid for my cuz...his wife and her sis's tickets...all i wanted in return was a couple of cocktails...which my cuz had no problem with fill'n me up

i ran into the 90's mgr in the lil wrangler's room of First Avenue...

where BOY was perform'n that nite...and to my surprise...i was told i hadda "do somethin" fer him first...as he wiped the corners of his mouth with his molesterary fingers...yea right pervie!

so i proceeded to get drunk off my ass and tried to figer out my own way backstage...(though i didn't connect the dots til a year later when i was informed by a co-worker who was next to me that nite)...that as the BOY started in on his band's anthem of the 80's smash "karma chameleon"...

i proceeded to blow chuncks at his feet...

fer all that i don't remember that nite...(which was about everything after the bathroom incident)...i was completely mortified! and he gets my undie'n appreciation...paid in puke!

it took 3 times...but i would FINALLY meet BOY during his incredible west end production of "TABOO" in London before it opened on Broadway

and it was a total chance encounter that i would meet my childhood hero (and no...this DID NOT include a restroom romp...you pervie...but trust me...i'da gone there myself if i was read'n this know'n me)

i was leave'n some clothing shop in Leicester Square after spend'n more than i ever wanted to spend on some Ziggy Stardust tee...but so worth it

and i literally bumped chests with the BOY on the cobble stone streets of London...though i could barely say a word...not cuz i was starstruck and hyperventilate'n like some whiney pimple freak...it's cuz i was struck with laryngitis at the time...but i digress!

it was like a huge domino effect happen'n...

if i never watched Phil...i never would've been hooked on Jimmy James...if i never watched Jimmy James...i never would've been hooked on Curtis...if i never watched Curtis on stage...i...well i probably would've gone to the GAY 90's at some point after i turned 21...but i would've never been hooked to perform there...and if Curtis never gave me tickets to see Boy George at the 90's...i would've never entered some look-a-like contest...and if i never entered that look-a-like contest...i most undoubtedly would've never up-chucked on the BOY!

it's rare to meet someone whom you've looked up to all yer life or to meet someone who's inspired yer destination in life...i've met them both

10 years would pass before i would cross paths with Curtis again...a few months later...i had heard Curtis had gone to the glittered stage in the sky

i still think about Curtis from time to time when i slap on my war paint fer the stage...(though it's been sometime...but don't fret kittens...i'm still very much alive) and wonder if he wishes he never told me what he did?

then i think he'd just say  "guuurl...you look SICK!"

now get off my dress!

pick yer poison

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

and by "drugs"...i mean options!

listen up kittens...i listened 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 this junction

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

the latest and most damage'n "drug"...to my cochlea's and my cornea's...

is this ol' bat in the peacock hat...if you missed...or just miss...Miss  Sarkisian 's tour...there's still a chance

but i digress...

in your 20's...you were judge...jury...executioner...defendant and plaintiff on how you looked 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...it was all about cover charges and cock!

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

to some meals on wheels look'n fruit basket who happened to be environmentally delayed...just cuz he paid fer my drink!

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

 prescribe me a cure that would take 3 to 4 weeks to cure...and instead...i opted to rummage around for the leftovers at any bar close...fer someone 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 whores start point'n fingers...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 began  

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 fun...and cuz i was too lazy to commit suicide!

well...20 years later...and into my late early 40's...i feel like i'm back in my early late 20's and look'n like 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...don't take that the wrong way though...i've learned to accept my new role...without all those unsightly stretch marks...or awkward family reunions

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

being hit with the on goin recession to our non existent piggy bank...

it's made a HUGE impact on the way we 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

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

and 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 their tailored look that they wore 20 years ago...only now...they look like a bloated blood sausage ready to burst at the seams at any moment

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 high

that when 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 anyways...

at least in person...you have a chance to start a conversation....online...it's just 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 n regret

and ps...btw...they ought to be personally erect'n a life size crucifix with my name on it...cuz 20 years ago...i was one of thee original governmental test bunnies who got that pill approved fer their erectcreational 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 an 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 afternoon break look'n fer enough coinage to get him and his 3 made up kids back to some made up home far far away...but cuz it happens on a daily basis from a merried of other story tellers...yer just conditioned to ignore his request...only to be belittled and berated as you keep walk'n by...but fer once it almost makes you wanna run to the closest atm as he caps off his exchange  with "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 is much better than try'n to read a wreck wait'n to happen!

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!

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...

if you want it...just ask...i just might...if not...don't worry abod' it...but puhleez...get off my dress!