GAME OVER!

have you?...wait i mean...would you?...no wait!...could you ever watch

the remake of PYSCHO and not say to yerself...

WHAT THE FUCK is with this pile of refried shit on bisexual bread all about anyways?

i mean...i totally get the whole try'na come'n up with an interest'n plot to be

in the runn'n fer a hollyweird oscar that will try and captivate the audience fer more than 30 seconds before they try to discretely log into their pornhub account with their earplugs in to watch the latest ball bust'n dick flick while they try and shove their science project sausage thru the bottom of the popcorn bucket so their date can jack them off...seriously though...let's face it...even that role plays been over played...

nothin's original anymore!

so we all remember that twisted time back in 2017 when i acquired my 

very 1st official stalker as thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...on whatever app i was on at the time...and oh what a proud day THAT was...

i knew i had FINALLY made it after all as someone's personal life alter'n love slave...that fortunately i had quickly defused before i would end up as some sordid lifetime movie of the week...

played by the age'n beautifully...Meridith Baxter Birney!

so there i was on break from paint'n the shutters on my neice's and my

fav-o-rit dream home...at some meth riddled under priviledged park in Oakdale, MN...when i decided to log online and chatter away with some of the locals in the area to get a recipe fer somethin' that would freeze beautifully fer the church's annual anti social social gather'n that weekend

 BUTT unfortunately...

to be quiet honest...my batt'n average was batt'n below average hits from 

anyone within a 10 trailer radius that actaully owned a full set of choppers that didn't cook anything besides blue ice...ya know what i mean?

then all of a sudden...a not so white knight popped up on my screen

so i thought i'd indulge in a lil friendly convo...why not!...he owned all his own teeth after all

break would end and soon enough it was time to get back to Pablo 

Picasso'n the shutters on my neices trailer...a mere 4 hours later and 3 back tranquilizers...cuz i was walk'n like a himaylan shot putter...i was wrapp'n up my day and headed back to my shit box in the Minne-Apple when i recieved a message from my potential freezes beautifully anti-social socializer

by the time i had returned home that even'n...i stripped outta my striped

culottes...lathered my face with a generous supply of St Ive's mint julip mud mask to help rejuvenate my soft yet supple skin and continued on with a mini marathon of season 2 from my new fav-o-rit drug on Netflix before count'n sheep that even'n

by morn'n it was time to rinse and repeat it all over again in Oakdale...

Toulouse Letrec’n my A-double snakes under the hot midwestern sun...dressed like a tusken raider from Tucsan as not to sizzle my creamy white flesh cuz i just can’t afford the age spots

night fall would eventually come...since i wasn't...so i decided to log online

while watch'n another mini marathon of DEAD TO ME and check my mail...turns out GAMEOVER had left me a mini message...awwww...wasn’t that “Nice”?

at that very moment i had just cracked open my fortune cookie that read somethin' like "he with little response...is just as little as every where else" & unfortunately he wasn't quite finished feed'n me with his setiment... 

hmmm...

did i miss somethin?

at first i was like...well...maybe he's just try'na psyche me out or somethin' cuz i can take it as much as i can give it at times...then outta no where...

i didn't know whether to fry him up a back hand sammich or...

consult my balls fer answers?

 all i knew was...AVA MAX would be the theme to our now unfortunate anthem i would only remember him by

normally at this point i'da just called out the spirits and block his sorry

dilapidated ass...but i seriously had no clue where his birage of bullshit came from...plus i wanted that "freezes beautifully" recipe...i thought...you know what...this could'a been THE ONE that maybe someday we would buy a trailer park of our very own 

and adopted a few miniature mongolian warthogs of our very own 
(well cuz i had my tubes tied since i was unable to bare any of my very own)

needless to say...after smooth'n out the corns on my very petite feet and

remove'n my soul...along with my mud mask...i slipped into my Holly Hobby even'n gown...pulled the curlers outta my basement bush and figered this GAME was truly OVER before it ever had a chance to begin...eh...i'll survive...now GET OFF MY DRESS!

Rotten to the Core pt. 3

i can here the echos of one Miss Lisa Stansfield...belt'n out her tune

"been around the world...and i...i...i...i can't find...

MY S-A-N-I-T-Y!

seriously...

read part 1 here

NO...I'M SERIOUSLY...

READ PART 2 HERE

and now the torturous conclusion to: ROTTEN TO THE CORE

experience'n all my new 1st's...after 72 long hrs...i needed a break today...

i was in zero mood to serve anyone...let alone by someone that had served over a million...but this WAS NOT the kinda meat i had in mind...i just wanted to meet a potential honest to goodness waste of my time host with the most understand'n of what i had just gone thru...that i was even will'n to pay fer them to lend me their ear fer a couple hours while tool'n thru the city's many nooks and tranny's...but with mother nature bein' murderously muggy that day...heat'n up like a presidential investigation...

it was all i could do to not stop myself from drown'n in another hopeless puddle of "earthy delights"

since 3 is my lucky number...(by choice...no reason)...i popped on line...

to phone a potential mistake that could take me outta my mind fer a period of time...on my dime even

BUTT...of course

wouldn't ya know it...all ANYONE could think about was gett'n the best bang fer their buck...and i get it...if yer the "fresh meat" in town...who wouldn't want to be pounded into ground round by thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe?

though i might'a been in the mood after the sun goes down...i was in zero mood fer some drippy...tawdry "afternoon delight" production at this moment in time...cuz my sky rockets weren't in any sorta mood to be in flight...anywhere!

it felt like i was a fuck'n contestant on some damn 80's game show...

though trust me...even though every "connection" that i was offered...(and there were alot of em i must say) there would be no plausible Chuck Woolery moment to "flick my bick" into someone's "hope box"...if they couldn't...at the very least...entertain me in the public eye 

before their "wife" Ralph came home from a difficult day at the park

i finally found some prick who didn't "dick"tate to me his laundry list...

of pulsate'n pleasures online...that needed to be completed immediately...so i jumped outta my rental bed by 1pm after waste'n all morn'n just try'na cool off...while gett'n all hot and bothered...turns out...my 36 yr old brazilian 6'3 giant of devilishly delishousness was a bartender at one of Coop's longtime x butt buddies bar... 

and was gonna be stay'n at STING's pad while he was on a yoga pilgrimage with Trudy and Deepak Chopra in Budapest or some shit like that..."allegedly"...of course who know's if any of this was actually the truth...but it didn't really matter to me though...i finally found my tour guide fer the afternoon...and just so he wouldn't think he had one over me dropp'n names...i told him i had my own roster of richy rich's i work for...

i'm Madonna's clairvoyant calculator (hey...you don't know if that ain't a fact jack!)

with the temps skyrocket'n...my giant...hmmm...let's just call him...ummm 

T-O-N-I-T-E fer the purposes of this finale...(above pic is a stand-in as not to expose his ego any more than he had already done with me) was spritz'n like a lawn sprinkler in the Sierra and wanted to run home fer a quick change...and who was i to say no (insert evil grin here)

trudge'n up 6 flights to his lair....it wouldn't be more than a mere 5 seconds

inside...that his clothes would eventually evaporate in front of my very eyes...and even if i could appreciate his David Blaine pony act...(and trust me...i can handle a tooth chipper...but my throat is no one's storage cellar) he wanted me to disappear inside him...

but not in a Jeffery Dahmer way...just so we're clear kittens!

you do the math (insert *wink*wink* here)

2 hrs later...i found my way back to the Ritz in Hell's Kitchen and met up 

with this absolutely delightful NY Quentin Crispish staple fer a lil chitter chatter that i had met thru the crowd the night before at the saloon on 9th...but after a quick cocktail...it was finally time to head to the whole reason i came ot NY in the 1st place...

to see MISS KATHY GRIFFIN spill it all @ Carnegie Hall...and trust me...it was well worth the price of admission and all the hell i...like Kathy herself...went thru...to make it to this juncture in the road...i don't wanna give ANYTHING away since she's still on her WORLD WIDE TOUR...

all i'll say is...our mentally deranged corrupt lie'n sack of baby pig shit...IS STILL JUST THAT...& MORE...along with his brain dead lobotomized cuntruffle'n followers!

3 hours later...as much as i wanted to say goodbye properly to the city...

i absolutely adore...my hooves were barely keep'n my stable...and i knew it was time to pack up the nite...so i text'd my host and headed back to pack up my miserable memories...in case he was worried since i hadn't texted him all day...then all of a sudden...my cell phone died as i waited fer his response while walk'n my A double snakes all the way home...

 

lil didn't i know...once i reached my destination...that i would have to be negotiate'n my entrance like a terrorist to the very place that i still had one more damn nite that i had already paid for in full...

all cuz he decided to have a lil menage et trois with some "friends" who were audition'n fer the very off broadway show of some "highly" influenced non heterosexual production of "break'n bad"

WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHY NOW?

it was nice that he gave me a couple of options...though at 12:30 at nite...

i was in zippo mood to play "let's make a deal"...so my options were either #1 join in...or #2 sit at the bar fer an hour so they could finish up with auditions...never mind the fact that i had held it fer the last mile walk and really needed to do both #1 and #2

i opted to say goodbye to the city my way...and an hour later i got the signal it was ok to return...know'n full well...i would never return to BNB world on any furture solo vacations...and to make matters worse...

their try-outs last'd til the rooster crow'd around 4:30 am...suffice it to say...i was not a happy camper know'n i would barely sleep a wink before it would be time to skiddaddle to the airport

check out was 11 am sharp...but trust me...i was up and out by 6 bells

and off to the airport...reminiscence'n thru the last 4 days i just went thru...feel'n like a member of the lollipop guild...1 and 30 minutes later i would arrive at the airport 4 hrs early...and made sure the BNB got a full earful and demand'd my money back fer the last day at the very least since i was locked out...to which they obliged me

what's the moral of the story you ask?...welll...sometimes it just ain't worth

pinch'n pennies or you'll get pinched!

now GET OFF MY DRESS!