ONE fer THE RECORD BOOK pt. 2

picture it kittens...it's 1979 and 3 20 somethin's that included 2 maxi pads 

with one hunky non throat plunge'n culinary horny toad student who H-A-D-D-A pretend he was a tulip sniff'n throat plunge'n penny loafer just to cohabitate with his 2 roomies (since mixed gender live'n was a no-no by the landlord in those days) or he'd suffer the fate of sleep'n in the confines of some cockroach infested YMCA which was the #1 hit comedy on everyone's magnavox that year

my aunt Ellen had take'n me fer a weekend sleepover in Austin, MN to her

 bf Rollie’s at the time and that nites feature after a delicious mac-n-cheese dinner was the reason why i...to this very day...will never be caught stepp'n a foot on a cruise in any ocean any time soon

and a talented neon yellow 8 foot 2 inch anthropomorphic bird who could 

roller skate...write poetry and sing among many other talents had dominated the morn'n airwaves fer 10 strong years advise'n the lil kittens across the globe the proper application of base...lip gloss and eyeliner...how to get outta sticky situations and a bunch of other shit

this has abofuckinglutely nothing to do with the story at hand kittens

i'm just give'n you a lil history lesson...any'who'z'll'ding...back to the shit show (click here fer pt. 1)

by now...as i settled down into his leather lazyboy...the son...of course...

kept walk'n in and out of the movie...while Miss Hathaway kept belch'n away with her Budweiser (i know...pretty huh...in a can WITH NO CUZY...i mean really WTF?) and pose'n like some egyptian hieroglyphic on the couch like he was gett'n ready to spawn

the second time...he (the son) came down with just a pair of shorts and a

wife beater on...well...i did all i could to concentrate on the movie and not wish i was 20 years old again (though if genetics plays any part into that kids future...he better snag on to someone quick before gravity smacks the shit outta him)

of course i could easily tell McDrunk was nervous as hell half way thru the 

movie why the hell wouldn't he be...he's got a goddamn unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe in his presence cuz about every 20 minutes he would say to me..."you won't hurt my feel'ns if you wanna leave now...i can tell by your body language i know i'm not your type" (and that is a direct quote)

why? just cuz i was sitt'n there on his tacky leather Wickes close-out chair 

from 1995...look'n like i was wheeled in like Hannibal Lector with face mask and a strappy jacket on...hey...who ever said charity didn't come with a price?

i did all i could from tell'n him to shut the F up cuz i was try'n my best to  

concentrate on the movie that i'd seen like 1000 times before in complete silence and wanted to see it 1001 times in complete silence

i made it thru this movie without look'n at him once for if i did...i was afraid 

i would turn into granite and graciously said thanx for the invite to his spiderweb...i mean...humble abode

BUTT...it ain't over just yet!

as he walked me down the steps...and out the door...the stench of costco 

and glade marination was but just a distant memory and as i drove off into the bleak bitter blizzard nite...i realized one thing...i'm 40 and i still have a pulse! so if anyone thinks i'll be mainline'n a relationship anytime soon...for the sake of a relationship cuz of my biological clock...ain't happen'n anytime soon!!

i don't need to dip into the desperado pool...just yet...my hand ain't broken

besides everything works out for the best in the end for me anyways however wouldn't ya know it though...i wake up the next morn'n to 2 messages from him...one beginn'n at 11:47 pm say'n he had a great time watch'n the movie with me and wanted to be "friends" (apparently he was have'n an outer body experience last nite) then a drunker message at 1:34 in the am hour tell'n me it's ok...he said his son talked to me on the same phone line a while back and wasn't gonna hang out with someone that talks to his son as well! 

WTF??? tune in next week fer the excruciate’n conclusion to ONE fer THE RECORD BOOK…now GET OFF MY DRESS!

R U SEAR-E-US-LEE?

everyone has dreams and wishes and hopefully most out there have had 

at the very least lived long enough to see at the very least one of them come to fruition that they thought of while mindlessly tumble'n down their own wonderous rabbit hole of the many many extravagant possibilities...from winn'n the lotto to rubb'n one out with their very own personal lovely lobotomized love slave that they could summon up with the simple snap of their fingers or blink of their almond shaped eyes

this list usually consists of many things that are either easily attainable or  

affordable though however sometimes it's downright absolutely asinine...nonetheless...these are yer very own personal accomplishments that you wanna revel in or get credit for doin' before you kick that almighty can in the cooter 

recently some tiktok'n twatter on twitter and some "influencer" on insta

decided it was gonna make their day and in my best interest if i would check and correct my grammarfication regard'n my own personal blog that they decided to infiltrate and peruse one lazy unfuckable afternoon cuz apparently they hadn't been fuck'd since the beginn'n of time so they figered they'd fuck with me...well after skimm'n thru their profile fer a quickie (of course) i soon realized that THEY were one of THEM!

so lemme guess...the makers of MANWICH should now come out with THEMWICH?

HALL and OATES should seriously rethink rerecord'n their black widow hit "MANEATER" into THEMEATER maybe?

perhaps yer temperamentally fragile ego would feel so much better if Marvel retitled the IRONMAN series into IRONTHEM?

and surely the residents of MANHATTAN would have zero issues and be particularly pleased as porcupine punch with their deliciously delightful dirty rat infested town bein' referred to as THEMHATTAN from this day forward?

ummmm let's just get real here kittens! the small portion of the "whiney"

wokers (and those older generational letters who wanna come off as some sorta "trendy" sympathize'n pair of chino's) that want to roll back the clock and completely cancel other generational letters freedom and fun times need to wake up and stop finger point'n and magic marker'n their picket signs when they wanna be seen as some delusional victim cuz of THEIR pronoun THEY decided to give THEMSELVES fer the past 5 years and THEIR only concern is how many "likes" THEY got fer THEIR pathetic post...cuz listen up...eventually (if yer lucky enough) you will make it to our age and the generation nipp'n at yer heels behind you will chew you up and spit you out just the same!

i WILL NEVER bow down to some made-up MING mentality...there will 

always be those who feel uncomfortable with what others did or do and said or say (it's all about context kittens) and if you think protest'n against those people not on yer same sensitive wave length by hold'n them accountable fer every little part of their past or destroy'n every part of their livelihood in the present just cuz yer not on board with their way of think'n and the only answer you will ever accept is if they change...GET BENT!

1st off...i have never been one to follow anyone's advice...i have never

been one to follow anyone's ass (unless it's some fav celeb of mine or i had some personal plunge'n interest in yers of course) and i certainly don't follow any leader...the mind-numb'n PC police nor the grammar gestapo...

I AM FOLLOWED! 

cuz lemme me edumacate you my fine fickle fucktard...most english

degree's end up become'n a doily of dead dreams on a dart board...attached to years of debt and ask'n you if you wanna super size yer fuck'n fries on a friday nite...2ndly here's hope'n THEY are double jointed cuz THEY can go FUCK THEMSELVES (since no one else will) and while i'm on a roll...here's a list of 10 more other things i don't ever plan on doin to appease someone else...let's just call it my "FUCK IT" list...why not!

don't get this confused with that lil black book of names and gold stars 

you've been carry'n around in yer back pocket fer a rainy day...oh no no no no NO!

this list basically is the anti BUCKET LIST...mean'n that...it's stuff i just 

ain't ever gonna do before i kick the proverbial can...regardless of the peer pressure or unfuckable fidget spinners...i thought about it long and hard (and NO i wasn't at the time...you dirty lil bird!) so without further ado... here is my top 10 FUCK IT! list

10. FUCK IT!...i'm never gonna bungee jump...EVER!...so don't ask me!

i've experienced vertigo one too many times dur'in my unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe career...and like i've always said...

if i wanna get a rush outta bein' high...i'll just add another inch to my heels!

9. FUCK IT!...i'm never gonna swim in the big blue ocean...as long as 

    there are ANY sea creatures in them...

if i can't see the bottom...trust me...i'm not gett'n in...

sorry Charlie!

8. FUCK IT!...i'm never gonna jump outta a private plane...with or without

     a parachute...even if it's about to crash land atop the Andes or deep in the Amazon forest...not on my unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe life!

7. FUCK IT!...i'm never gonna set sails on the mighty sea...i have never 

been a a fanatical fan of seafood...nor do i ever wanna become seafood...EVER!

6. FUCK IT!...i'm never gonna feel scalpel to skin...fer vanity reasons

well...lemme clarify...if by some chance...i just happened to trip and fall unconsciously onto a cosmetic gurney dur'in my Blanch Devereaux years and become youthinized fer a few hours...is that really MY FAULT? i fer damn sure ain't gonna be clipp'n no damn coupons or download'n any BOGO deals from the internet...thanx to 80's heartthrob Mickey Rourke...who went from fuckable to forgettable

but i heard he's been give'n a 2nd chance with hollyweird and just landed the lead role in a live action christmas classic play'n the Heat Miser so good fer him

BUTT wait...there's more

5. FUCK IT!...i'm never ever gonna get a pet snake....there's is no way i 

ever want to wake up from one of my many narcoleptic naps to find some large ass slither'n snake slide'n in between my legs...

WAIT...lemme me clarify that one fer ya!

4. FUCK IT!...i'm never gonna fake-n-bake my body...just to look like a 

   mongolian baboon's ass...it's just not happen'n! i like my smooth supple alabasterized ass the way it is

3. FUCK IT!...i'm never gonna have a pussy fer a house pet...ever since 

my dearly departed friend Jeanie...who spent a large portion of her adult life try'n to snag a sympathetic husband on E-Harmony...in the end unfortunately had a brain aneurism in her late early 40's watch'n tv one day and when the paramedics found her 3 days later in the hot summer sun...her cat Luna (who incidentally always hated me) was gnaw'n at her toes...poor thing ended up in the end gett'n eaten by a pussy and she wasn't even lezbitronic to begin with

2. FUCK IT!...i'm never gonna participate in the runn'n of the bull...watch'n 

  a bull fight in Palomas...or ever deal with yer bullshit! how does that old say'n go? FUCK with the bull yer gonna get the horns so this THEY/THEM is seriously hypathetically fucked (and not in the good way)

and the numbero uno FUCK IT on my list...

Drummond roll over in yer grave pleez...

1. FUCK IT!...i'm just neva eva gonna eat raw sushi...EEEEW!...it's just

     sooo unnatural and cringely creepy...to me! 

and don't none of you'z Jethro Clampett Maury Povich hemmorrhage'n

 drano douche'n dip shitt'n syphilis parade'n tyrannicalsaurus anti-vaxx'n vixen Ernest goes to camp mutha fuckers come after me fer anything on my list neither or you can bet you'll be pick' up yer teeth with broken fingers while try'na get a boot outta yer ass...KAPEESH!

there you have it kittens this concludes my FUCK IT! list fer now...why not

make yer own unfun and unfabulous list...and FUCK IT! 

GET OFF MY DRESS!

MISERY LOVES COMPANY pt. 2

picture it kittens...it's 1979 and 3 20 somethin's  that included 2 maxi pads 

with one hunky non throat plunge'n culinary horny toad who H-A-D-D-A pretend he was a tulip sniff'n throat plunge'n penny loafer in able to cohabitate with his 2 roomies (since mixed gender live'n was a no-no by the landlord) or suffer the fate of sleep'n in the confines of the YMCA which was the #1 hit comedy on everyone's magnavox that year

my aunt Ellen had take'n me fer a weekend sleepover in Austin, MN to her bf Rollie at the time and that nites feature after a mac-n-cheese dinner was the reason why i...to this very day...will never be caught stepp'n a foot on a cruise in any ocean

and a talented neon yellow 8 foot 2 inch anthropomorphic bird who could roller skate...write poetry and sing among many other talents had dominated the morn'n airwaves fer 10 strong years advise'n the lil kittens across the globe the proper application of base...lip gloss and eyeliner...how to get outta sticky situations and a bunch of other shit

who recently pushed the buttons and pissed off the void of humanity and cancun escape'n repuglicunt from texas over of all things...keep'n people safe!

and now...back to the shit show (click here fer pt. 1)

by now...as i settled down into his leather lazyboy...the son...of course...

kept walk'n in and out of the movie...while Miss Hathaway kept belch'n away with her Budweiser (i know...pretty huh...in a can WITH NO CUZY...i'm mean really WTF?) and pose'n like some egyptian hieroglyphic on the couch like he was gett'n ready to spawn

the second time...he (the son) came down with just a pair of shorts and a

wife beater on...well...i did all i could to concentrate on the movie and not wish i was 20 years old again (though if genetics plays any part into that kids future...he better snag on to someone quick before gravity smacks the shit outta him)

of course i could easily tell McDrunk was nervous as hell half way thru the 

movie why the hell wouldn't he be...he's got a goddamn unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe in his presence cuz about every 20 minutes he would say to me..."you won't hurt my feel'ns if you wanna leave now...i can tell by your body language i know i'm not your type" (and that is a direct quote)

why? just cuz i was sitt'n there on his tacky leather Wickes close-out chair 

from 1995...look'n like i was wheeled in like Hannibal Lector with face mask and a strappy jacket on...hey...who ever said charity didn't come with a price?

i did all i could from tell'n him to shut the F up cuz i was try'n my best to  

concentrate on the movie that i'd seen like 1000 times before in complete silence and wanted to see it 1001 times in complete silence

i made it thru this movie without look'n at him once for if i did...i was afraid 

i would turn into granite and graciously said thanx for the invite to his spiderweb...i mean...humble abode

as he walked me down the steps...and out the door...the stench of costco 

and glade marination was but just a distant memory and as i drove off into the bleak bitter blizzard nite...i realized one thing...i'm 40 and i still have a pulse! so if anyone thinks i'll be mainline'n a relationship anytime soon...for the sake of a relationship cuz of my biological clock...ain't happen'n anytime soon!!

i don't need to dip into the desperado pool...just yet...my hand ain't broken

besides everything works out for the best in the end for me anyways however wouldn't ya know it though...i wake up the next morn'n to 2 messages from him...one beginn'n at 11:47 pm say'n he had a great time watch'n the movie with me and wanted to be "friends" (apparently he was have'n an outer body experience last nite) then a drunker message at 1:34 in the am hour tell'n me it's ok...he said his son talked to me on the same phone line a while back and wasn't gonna hang out with someone that talks to his son as well! 

WTF??? GET OFF MY DRESS!