Showing posts with label MINNESOTA TWINS PLAYER. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MINNESOTA TWINS PLAYER. Show all posts

Monday, August 29, 2022

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 jalapeƱo 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!

Saturday, December 4, 2021

I DID IT MY WAY

well i was all set to vomit out another  hard hitt'n holiglazed masterpiece 
about my fav-o-rit top 10 inches...par doan me...i mean my fav-o-rit top 10 incentives to make it a very happy snappy hanuqwanza XXXmas fer all the single desperado's out there beat'n their meat like a prisoner in San Quinton’s solitary confinement (especially this unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe) however...as i sat down at the keyboard at my local uptown library...the fuck'n computer rejected my password advances (apparently some fuck'n lezbitronic squirrel decided to try and eat out the internet cables and turned into a crispy critter...ALLEGEDLY!) so instead...enjoy this deliciously dirty diabetic ditty from CHUNKY PAM and s few of my past XXXplorations

~ Boy George

there has never been a person that has resonated with me more...thru melodramatic melodies...about the hopeless art of the instant oatmeal hook-up's betta than the BOY has himself 

we...and i'm speak'n only to the non heterosexual has-beens and has-been-nots out there...all desperately yearn'n to be temporarily tingled at some point thru-out their journey on this planet...just like all those other
"unnatural types" that choose to be non homosexual...not to be confused with the "wasbians" = used to be carpet cleaners but could never fully commit to shop classes
or the "unfageluffigus's" = used to have style and savoir flair but ended up with a prolapsed ass due to one too many "mission impossibles" in their unmentionables durin' the 80's

i can recall back in my days...before that dreaded trilogy of terror...simply known as my smart phone that my dumb ass is STILL try'na figer out after 5 1/2 years of marriage...that the only means of communicado with someone to help scratch that friday nite "itch" (that you hoped didn't need a spermicidal application and a razor) was accomplished by 3 huge ways

1. BARE ASS BEACH....
located just a handful of very large red rover red rover steps away from the U of M...along the mighty Mississip..where my most preciously precocious Petrinella (and her minions) would indoctrinate me to the ways of the instantaneous gratifications under the pale moon light...(that is...if you fergot to bring yer chloroform spray with you to the bar)
this was accomplished by walk'n down a long stairway to a sandy hell in the middle of the nite...to the desolate open beach down below...like we were castaways that just got off the SS Minnow on a 30 minute tour to titillation town...
eventually we would be greeted by a plethora of unimpose'n figures emerge'n from the behind the bushes along the shore line in the still of some random hot summer nite...sadly though...it felt more like a scene that was straight outta the night of the living dead
and thanx to Peetrinella's infectious cackle echo'n amongst the seediness of the even'n...this avenue was unfortunately no longer a viable option for me to participate in future out'ins

2. BLOW JOB VALLEY...
you heard me right kittens....what is now a sprawl'n 4 story high subsidized house'n complex...that is home to many air bnb affiliates on the edge of the downtown Minne-Apple area in Loring park...was once a spacious and vacant park'n lot...
that housed many suburbian commuters by day however would turn into a circus arena of salacious sidewinders by sunset...where you would learn yer ABC's of the STD's that were readily available on any given nite...that me and many of my inept bar "friends" would participate in back in the early 90's...
corralled to the center of the park'n lot like a no-gag-reflexed cattle of cock...while the outside perimeter of perverseness would unilaterally and literally drive around us in a complete circle...single file...no more than 2-5 mph...as not to avoid any missed "purchases"...since they had no luck at the side walk sale outside the saloon...cuz this would be their last chance to get down anyone's pants...
 before they would have to head back home to their pabst blue ribbon past out on their unpaid ashley furniture...while we [the inept] waited anxiously fer the high beams to hit us from behind from some hot high roller that would flag us down and open us up like a lotus flower...though i would never be so lucky

after months of study'n the "art of the sale"...i would finally get a high beam i could call my very own...that would sadly only lead to the 1st...
10 minute feature film as a solo performer i would ever perform in...but incidentally...would be where i also successfully negotiated my 1st apartment deal on my very own in the uptown area 10 years later...
and sometimes...fer a lil extra street cred (*wink*wink*)...you (insert ME here) would be summoned by a "famous" heavy hitter on some seedy saturday nite in '94 that wanted you to "hit them" into next week...before they would have to take that long uncomfortable walk down that forced aisle of misery
BUTT...wait there's more

3. PHONE LINES...

i've always had an over active imagination when it came to plausible pleasures...but i always kept my expectations exceptionally low...so they'd be alot easier to attain that way...cuz i knew i would end up in pictures...
i just wasn't expect'n this was how it would all come to be...but i learned how to turn a tragic embarrassment into an animalistic ambush...the mo's went ape shit when i used my mug shot on gofuckyerself.com or somethin' like that...fer a short period of time
of course...i blame it on Jeff Stryker flicks and shows like OZ that made all those horny toads think'n they've hit the jack-off jackpot with a real life felon...and who was i to disappoint their twisted fantasy...but before the world of visual stimulation's were at my finger tips...
i would spend endless hours fall'n asleep on the free side of the phone lines with my over active imagination work'n in over drive...just to find that perfect mistake that i would eventually regret 10 minutes later (Peetrinella tried to curb my "addicktion" once...too many times...to no avail of course)
 cuz i was hooked like Steve Erwin to a stingray
(hey...hush the fuck up...more than enough time has passed!)
on any given day or nite...the typical gentleman caller genital wart...who was between the ages of 25 and dirt...6ft tall or above...with bushels of brunette follicles as thick as the amazon forest strategically placed thru-out their sculpted body...that consisted of 180 pds of pure 100% grade A chemically enhanced beef...enclosed in a 48 inch chest and a 32 inch waist...with enough italian sausage to wreck yer windpipe...
regrettably...reality would eventually set in when we met up...and just my luck...it rarely ever panned out the way i was expect'n it to...99 times outta 100 it was usually somethin' i personally would'a never ordered off the menu (if we had had today's technological advances back then)...only cuz they always ended up invert'n the numbers...and use'n the metric system where it mattered the most
so one particular restless early morn'n nite that i can recall...i met some casual caller (who i hoped was accurately describe'n themselves from the pre-approved menu fer a change) that was just a stone's throw away from my back yard (that is....if i was a hungarian shot putter) so i decided to meet him half way...why not!
and once again...my over active imagination waves were way outta sync...but instead of ridicule'n his very existence and turn'n back home alone...which was a perfectly shallow...yet viable...option i...like many others in my position...have used many a times before...
i just didn't wanna end up as some damn moo juice model in yer kids cafeteria

so i decided to look fer an easy exit stragedy...but most regrettably & very tragically (FER ME) when i invited him into my shitbox...ummm...i mean my quaint lil shitbox...i heard a sudden thud on my entrance floor as he...
turned to shut my front door...i couldn't believe it...his left sleeve went limp on me as he turned back around...well that's cuz HIS FUCK'N LEFT ARM FELL OFF...SERIOUSLY!...and this was not just any old hand...like i know yer think'n lincoln...NO...this was a hook hand!...A HOOK HAND!...i nervously waited fer his response before i would give my constrained retort..."oh...did i ferget to tell you that i had a prosthetic arm?"...hmmmm?...i hesitated fer just a mere moment before i could come up with the only non judgmental serial killer response..."yea...sorry sailor...but i've already done my charitable act fer the year...plus...i don't want you to be late to yer peter pan rehearsal" 
see you in salutations...now GET OFF MY DRESS!