TIME (CLOCK OF THE HEART)

we've all had those momentous first time moments in the earlier stages 

of our life that you've either seen with yer own 2 eyes or participated in fer the very first time that end up leave'n an impactful imprint deep into yer memory banks that you'll end up carry'n with you up until the very last moment before you kick the can...whether it be the very first movie yer dad took you to as a small but important future unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of yer own universe...

where you learned that in outer space you should always do yer research before commit'n yerself to a cloak made out of a brown poly blend potato sack as they don't have the best protection against a lone evil doer with asthmatic issues who has an axe to grind with half the fuck'n universe

then there's that very first time you learn all about the judicial systems as a

 

tittilated teenrager by have'n yer very first judge judy experience in 1987 thanx in part to an unplanned trip to the barbershop inside yer school lunchroom at 7:45 am then immediately hopp'n on yer huffy bike since Joan wanted you out of the house...huff'n and puff'n like the wicked witch from the west end of town to yer former bff's palace in the projects of the small minded unimportant town…

just to have a mental break down in front of his mom in her Daisey dukes and crop top puff'n on her marlboro lights on the back stoop...as she gives you her simple but effective advice "you sue that mother fucker and tell the judge you were gonna use yer hair to be in a rock band" (and that is a direct quote) completely push'n you into the spotlight of the entire school all cuz of yer fabulous follicles...

which were part of some twisted diabolical plot designed by a group of jack-off jocks who wanted to show you who's runn'n the roost by have'n some piss'n contest and cutt'n off a portion of the luscious locks from the new leper in the lunch room (insert me here) i of course would come out victorious in the end by sue'n the head of the football team's ass (though i'm sure secretly all he really wanted was head or my smooth plump ass back then and all he hadda do was ask...i would'a obliged...back then anyways) 

and from that very moment on i would N-E-V-E-R take shit from anyone anymore no matter who they were!

and how could i not mention that time in the pre 90's cell phone era of '95

when i was about to come in my culottes after leave'n a popular STD disco hole in the downtown Minne-Apple area late one even'n when i hopped skipped and jumped into a dark camaro driven by some midnite cowboy who was my last call to bust his balls with as i was trollop'n head'n home fer some head thru Loring Park...

only to make it 2 blocks before we were pulled over by some Roscoe P. Coltrane who tried to take me down fer solicite'n in my slacks...fortunately my jedi minds tricks worked that nite and he let us off so we could get off...

back at my place where my midnite rider admitted this would be his only and last "batt'n practice" before his wedd'n day the follow'n day and asked me if i knew who the TWINS were... 

to which i responded "you mean the OLSON TWINS or the WONDER TWINS?" to which he said "NO the baseball team!" i let him know that sports was the last thing on my mind so why not be a good sport and get to work then leave a quarter on the counter on yer way out

BUTT move'n forward

we might be in the year 2022 nonetheless i felt like i went thru some sorta 

time warp back to the best decade ever invented fer music durin' the 1980's as i inverted back into my teenrager times by start'n the month off see'n PAT BENATAR (w/NEIL GIRALDO) live in concert...then roller disco'n with MADONNA in Central Park the follow'n week before return'n back home ecstatic to see DURAN DURAN at an outdoor venue except fer the fact that mother nature decided to bitch slap the band and the audience with a severe thunder storm minutes before the concert was to begin that nite...make'n it a disaster fer the flock of fans near and far who were crammed into the casino like salty sardines only to have the concert completely canceled in the end to the dismay of many

end'n out the month with my ALL TIME FAV-O-RIT BOY  in thee absolute 

entire universe that's been well documented in this blog over the years and of course his boys who he would not be without...

back at MYSTIC LAKE with CULTURE CLUB where they absofuckinlutely DID NOT disappoint as usual

BOY was in tip top shape...engage'n with the audience like he was have'n the best time with his gal pals over a lovely cup of herbal tea and a macrobiotic serve'n of steamed kombu over a bed of hijiki with just a slight sprinkle of gomashio

i'll admit it...I AM A BOY JUNKIE...someone send me to B.G.A...STAT!

that's Boy George Anonymous fer you uneducated kittens...since this would now be the 9th time see'n them live so of course i hadda pull out ALL the stops and pull an all niter into a dayer by gett'n hopped up on an assortment of fruit flavored chemicals consist'n of jalapeño skittles and multi purpose flavors of red bull in order to kick my OCD into high gear by hot glue'n by hand stone by stone and sequin by sequin in an orderly fashion fer roughly 23 hrs and after another 3 hours in make-up i set out to begin my musical journey

arrive'n to the casino just a few minutes early cuz i'm such a gurly swat 

after all when it comes to punctuality...i waited patiently fer my friends to show up as i miraculously mosied on up to the bar without gett'n shot at when outta the corner of my eye i caught this pickled patsy absolutely tickled stare'n at me as if i were Medusa and she was about to turn to stone (though to be quiet honest...i think she was just a wee bit stoned) anywho'zll'ding...she had asked if i was BOY GEORGE or a member of his band...awwww...how sweet!

of course i hated to burst her narcotic laced bubble (allegedly) nonetheless i hadda set her straight by reveal'n my real name

once my friends arrived we enjoyed a quick cocktail then sashayed our

A double snakes thru the casino to the theater but not before i was bombarded every step of the way by a stampede of gawkers and stalkers politely ask'n me fer a pic with them and without hesitation i turned their world upside down and inside out...why not!

as the theater lights began to fade and the stage lights began to light up

no one in the sea of fans new and old at the packed theater meant a damn thing to me as i regressed into my former self almost 40 years earlier 

moments later the band slithered out from the sides then BOY himself appeared on stage in full glory...play'n up and down their repertoire of hits over the past 40 years and a few new surprise gems and mash-ups fer roughly 2 hrs straight

as the concert concluded i was once again bombarded with many many  

requests fer more pix with the audience and though i was desperately search'n fer a cocktail to quench my severely parched throat from sing'n along all nite...i bit my painted lips and held onto my arthritic hips by oblige'n the masses wait'n patiently to strike a pose with me fer the next 45 minutes as i tried to purchase a lil medium memorabilia fer myself

most celebrities like myself usually try & run in circles with the same status

follow'n any kind of event...it can get to be very taxi'n after endless hours of humility wear'n 20 pounds of make-up and wrapped up in an outfit so tight that you feel like yer give'n yerself a homemade hysterotomy every time you have to walk thru a barrage of fans that have no concept of proper light'n or angles as they snap their selfie with you while yer just desperately seek'n the jaws of life to release you from the misery of it all and though i may be at the bottom of the celebrity totem pole...i'm still there dammit and i have a threshold to my thoughtfulness and mine ended seconds after the concert ended…i had had enough with the relentless requests fer snaps (i highly doubt MADONNA ever has to put up with this shit anymore!)

nevertheless i completely melted while i was wait'n in line to buy

some over-priced tee at this pre-teen who i could sense was nervous to ask me fer a selfie (which made sense i suppose…i mean come on…i rocked the shit outta my look that nite) however after see'n the absolute joy pour'n outta his pretty blue puppy dog eyes as he gleefully told me it was the best concert he had ever went to...

suddenly i had an epiphany…music has always been a powerful drug to me and i could tell that this kid was as high as a damn kite from the concert…i realized that i was stare'n directly at myself nearly 40 years ago when i felt the exact emotions see’n  CULTURE CLUB on Mtv fer the very first time and even though i was denied the same live experience in 1984 that this kid got to experience in 2022...

i fer one WAS NOT about to crush and scar this kids memory banks by stomp'n all over his request so i happily took a pic with him and the other 15 to 20 some people that waited anxiously behind him before i bid my ado to them all and met my friends who hooked me up to the cocktail drip wait'n fer me at the bar.

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

OXY MORON!

well now that mother nature's turned down the thermostat and booked a 

one way to Barbados fer a much deserved vaca fer the next 6 months after over hear'n about all the bullshit shenanigans at the latest COP26  summit in Glasgow with those paid to play pricks of the planet...pack'n her bags full of all the essentials one would need...like 1000 proof sunscreen to keep her creamy milky white flesh as fresh as a daisy...a cosmo in a big gulp...a colostomy bag fer the big gulp so she won't have to mill about the plane while in motion...her solar powered vibrate'n rabbit (hey even though she's just as old as dirt...she's well aware of all the global fuckery we've done to her work of art and doin her part to try and reverse what she can...plus she's got urge's too)

and the latest greatest memoir from the MISTRESS OF THE DARK fer her flight (A MUST READ) leave'n us with a slight chill in the air turn'n every day ordinary unemployed assholes at my local library that i've utilized on a weekly basis fer years now...

look'n fer an easy payday from Judge Judy...lemme explain

so there i was last week triple check'n my hard hitt'n journalistic endeavors

make'n sure that all my mispell's were spelled incorrectly (of which they were thankfully) and i noticed the douche rag sitt'n directly opposite of me at the computer not wear'n his mask correctly as stated at the front door when you enter the library and then again on the GIGANTIC sign once inside (you know...just in case you were too distracted from swipe'n left or right on TINDER or GRINDR...depend'n howeva ya butter yer breadstick) 

instead...wear'n his mask it as if it were some unattainable hope diamond molested in $20,000 worth of Harry Winston's white diamonds around his worn out weathered neck

the library of course has always had a security guard on the off chance 

that some book worms decide to turn things into some sorta twisted world wrestle'n smack down 

over the last copy of SUZANNE SOMERS heartbreak'n book of poetic genius!

BUTT wait...there's more...

so as i try not to turn this situation into some "KAREN" moment cuz i was 

not camera ready this particular afternoon...i noticed the security guard step forward and lightly tap the douche rag on the shoulder once to no avail...i'm sorry...that's not accurate and very insensitive of me...i meant that mentally deranged cock suck'n mutha fuck’n pig slutt'n anal wart...so i decided to mute my music and once again said security man politely gestured to him to pull the mask up over his entire mouth and nose...clearly a very simple universal command and not to be confused with a sadistic request...it was library law after all!

well you'da thought the gates of all hell fire rammed a hot poker up his 

dilapidated jaxie cuz once the offend'n perpetrate'n prick locked his eyes onto mr. security man...he went off like a psychotic snake leap'n outta his assigned seat engorge'n his neck and vommit'n expletives that would turn a tap dance'n tourette'ser into a puddle of tears...spew'n a barrage of demands like he'd have the security guards badge...that he'd be removed from his position by days end and sanctioned his boss's personal number from the staff cuz he was plann'n on a huge pay out 

once he'd have his spotlight dance with Judge Judy in the very near future apparently from the sound of it all!

well...i had had my share of "KAREN" encounters fer the year at this point

so i decided to turn the volume back up on the pleasant sounds of one Burt Bacharach that i was listen'n to as the smack down began (why not!) and rattled of an anonymous letter of support fer the berated officer lett'n the staff know the exact 411 then slipped it into the outside book return... 

as not to be the cause of some twisted Fabulous Moolah/Wendy Richter meaningless moment with this obnoxious asswipe

2 days later as i returned to the scene of the inflammatory incident...i'm 

happy to report mr. security guard was still patrol'n the place and i had received a personal heartfelt thankyou from mr. librarian seconds after i sat down at my assigned computer who figered out that i indeed was the one that had sent the letter of support thru the outside book return

the only other time i've ever written a letter of support was to the daddy of 

daytime dirt removal tv who promoted the fuck outta OXY CLEAN back in the 90's to let him know how pleased i was with their stain removal product...it went somethin' like this...

Dear Billy Mays...i'm contact'n you about my recent use of yer product...

see what had happened was...my roomie at the time worked my last nerve constantly use'n my ELECTRIC YOUTH PERFUME by teenage sweet tart DEBBIE GIBSON when meet'n up with his "massage" clients without my consent and i had an impromptu date with someone one even'n who had answered my message in the back section of the "chance encounters" inside the free local paper that was like my bible at the time and on this particular even'n there was not a spritz to spray me with so after a few heated altercational words with said roomie...i ended up with his blood on my blouse

well i had just happened to notice that my roomie had one scoop left of 

yer product left in the bucket of OXY CLEAN that was sitt'n next to his boombox on the shelf in his bedroom and i was on a deadline so i decided to give it a go since you've always mesmerized me durin' all those infomercials on my lunch breaks from clean'n out the booths at the video store i worked at at the time and to my amazement...the stain came out

in fact the removal was soo good that when the detectives asked to test 

my blouse at the labs i was told emphatically that his DNA was no where to be seen on my shirt and luckily my roommate's "client" who just happened to be a lawyer i also met on a "chance encounter" said i was no longer considered a suspect in the disappearance of my roomie...well you can imagine how relieved i was to hear this good news so in close'n i will be rave'n about yer product to all my hormonally charged friends

well...i gotta go now...i have'ta telephone the makers of  GLAD 3-ply garbage bags fer an absofuckinlutely bang up job they did on the durability of their product

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

ARSCHLOCH!

sounds so "je ne sais quoi" when said in french...even though the title 

is in german...but once you figer out the translation...it just means yer an asshole

there's always that one lil kitten that'll pounce on those who are weak

just to prove that they are a total A double snake hole to their friends...it's an annoy'n but all to often an acceptable passage into teenage life...kids just being kids!

BUT there are those that NEVER grow up...and what is a butt...

but an asshole full of shit!

i had fergotten about most of my teenage angst and ridicule that i suffered at the hands of certain peers thru-out high school...like most do once they

leave the shell of their former self...that is until one particular incident reminded me some people never grow up...

and it made me hop on my huffy bike and remember how cruel a certain portion of the prepubescent pimple charade parade can really be to their generational flock

after a much deserved nervous breakdown durin' my religious education in 10th grade...i got my pink slip to finally attend public education...after being forced to attended J-man high school fer the past 3 years of my life

(FYI...the prepubescent pimple population AIN'T any better in the J-man schools)

by my 3rd month at public education...most of my friends that i had acquired pre-high school...were no longer interested nor remembered who i was...and i couldn't blame them...I WAS NO LONGER the "Kermie"...

"mohican" or any of the other countless nicknames i was christened with durin' grade school (i will have to say to their credit...as far as nicknames went...i pretty much went unscathed...unlike alot of the easier targets)

but 3 years and puberty later...we ALL changed...physically...mentally...

and socially...why not!...i no longer sported the Richie Cunningham cut...sitt'n at the lunch table across from my 2 friends from my previous life

it's was the 80's after all...and i'd built a shield of ownership and absolute

 independence...thanx in part to the wondrous worlds of my 2 hero's...Mr. O'Dowd & Miss Ciccone...whenever i was down i would lock myself in my room for hours...turn'n my boombox to ear pierce'n high (or maybe that was my voice) torture'n brainwash'n my household as i auditioned on my own stage 

with the help of sister's strawberry shortcake mirror and hairbrush that i repossessed fer her make'n a mess of our sleep'n quarters

i had tossed away my depression pants and suppression blouse i had worn for 3 years in J-man school...and was now a tick'n time bomb that

 finally exploded all over everyone around me since i was no longer shackled to the bible stories comic book of casually convenient oppressiveness's or under any religious fashion police regime...and became the singer of the very sound of my hometown along with my psychotically artistic genius and friend Dr. Bob...fer one memorable nite only...in the ASTRO PUSSYCATS

a force field of aqua net held up my crown of spikes atop of my head...

and i thought nothing or no one could huff or puff or blow my balance down...that is...until 7:45 am one morn'n

BUTT....move'n on

Wendy and Shelly (not to be confused with Wendy and Lisa from Prince)

incidentally...i met a Lisa D who was my 1st newly acquired friend that day (now where was i) oh yea...so their eyes popped outta their heads

like some Ren & Stimpy cartoon...after what they had just witnessed in front of them

feel'n a slight breeze pass the top of me...i noticed someone runn'n away like some alter boy from a confessional...confused...i had asked them both

"what just happened?" runn'n my hand across the back of my head...i felt one of the spikes in my crown was no longer around and there was no dr. suess rhyme that could possibly calm me down

the blood rushed to my head like i was about to rip outta my clothes...

 any second so i immediately had to make a decision...since i spent a good hour prior to school perfect'n my image to be seen (as those in the pimple parade usually do)

do i go ape shit and Columbine the entire pimple parade in my sight?

or do i have a nuclear meltdown and spontaneously combust?

since i didn't pack my sawed off shot-gun (well Bambie cured me of that)

and i knew physically...i could be snapped like a pea pod...so i darted fer the nearest exit before the 1st tear would ever hit the lunch room floor

by the time i made it home...i didn't care what anyone thought anymore and the flood gates opened...i could barely form a sentence relive'n the horror to Miss Crawford...who wondered why i was home from school so early...but i wasn't expect'n the response that i was given by my parental

adviser..."if ya wanna look like an ass...ya get what you deserve!"

(and unfortunately...that is a direct quote seared into my memory banks)

so i hopped on my sparkly huffy bike to my best friend's palatial palace...

in the house'n projects and luckily his ma Sis...in her daisy dukes...puff'n away on her marlboro lites...gave me a completely different slice of advice cake to eat...

"you sue that mother fucker and tell the judge you were grow'n yer hair to be in a rock band!" (and YES ...even though it's been over 30 years...i kept that quote in my memory banks)

WOW!...that was the straw the broke this non heterosexual's timid shell

i had my Judge Judy moment 3 months later...

and acquired a new crop of cool friends along the way

it was THEE event of the decade that year...the punk versus the prep

or at the very least...in my pre unintentionally internationally unknown universe's head...it had never been done before...nonetheless i was not gonna back down...i had my fair share of threats thrown my way from the treacherous ticks try'na talk me outta it...i had heard years later...a portion of the school had placed 2 to 10 odds that i was even gonna win...

fuck me gently with a chainsaw...i had zero desire to let anyone pull off my scrunchy again...i was gonna let all know who i was!

and even though i had only won $37 outta the $2500 i was ask'n for...

(hey i was 16...i was goin for the big bucks anyway i could) i wanted outta dodge A.S.A.P. and start my own destination...written by my own rules...far away from the backwater mentality of some small cow-town crap

i've since become the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n

illusionist of my own universe in my own dimly lit spotlight (as you very well know by now) and no one's rays can harm me anymore...so don't waste yer breath...just GET OFF MY DRESS!