BACK BY UNPOPULAR DEMONS (in my head!) pt. 3

picture it kittens...it was now 2024 and everyone's fav-o-rit office prankster

DUNDER MIFFLIN on the hit series "THE OFFICE" played by charismatic nerd JOHN KRASINSKI (i can freely admit #1 that i never seen a single episode of and #2 that i ever ever plan to do so) was considered the sexiest man alive by some has-been newsstand rag...

everyone was gett'n "TIPSY" with that infectious bar song by one hit hot chocolate wonder SHABOOZEY...make'n it a whole 19 weeks at #1 (oh yea...he was the #2 fer sure)

and though their movie was #1...i thought it was more like a total #2 show just 20 minutes into it just cuz these 2 seriously annoyed the ever live'n wizard of fuck outta me whenever i'd see them redundantly regurgitate over each other durin' promotional interviews while marinate'n in their own vomitous self deprecation panties...

cuz unfortunately...i was already marinate'n in a shit show of my very own!

click here fer pt. 1 and here fer pt. 2

and now to put the nail in the coffin conclusion to 

BACK BY UNPOPULAR DEMONS (in my head!) 

so after inform'n my thirsty throat plunger that there would absofuckinlutely

be no slapp'n of the salami upon his arrival...i gave him the green lite to come over and spill the tea that he apparently needed to in person

as i opened the front door i could sense a sense of down right distraught

in his demeanor as he showed up in his sunday best that saturday nite...so after lead'n him to the conversational area...

i poured him a cup of imaginary ambition as he poured out his immense heart...

about his most recent maxi padder's latest financial adventure that he unfortunately had a hand in create'n!

BUTT...here's the thing...

after tell'n me many years earlier that they both were open to the causal

possibilities of multiple maniac manipulations...you don't get to whine to me in the middle of some bleak winters nite just cuz things didn't go the way it was intended fer yer flavor...

though i sat there patiently like some mini german frosted flake...cling'n

 onto every word that my now sexually distraught patient had poured out to me...play'n a game of emotionally exhaust'n ping pong... 

desperately seek'n my sympathy fer the past hour to all of a sudden without any warn'n or inclination...suggest'n to me... 

"you outta marry me so that cunt doesn't get any of my social security"

this was either some sorta evil twisted plot to pull the financial plug out 

from under his double dipp'n maxi padder's persistent perverseness or someone who's come to the realization that their entire matrimonial parade was a calculated shrewd sharade...a blame game of monopoly misgive'ns where he would end up in some blindsided cell and i (a-p-p-a-r-e-n-t-l-y) was some sorta key to set him free (or so he led me to believe)

needless to say...i was absofuckinlutely gobsmacked to receive this very

 indecently intrigue'n yet highly deceptive proposal cuz he was always give'n off co-dependency vibes from the very start...and i've been a very independent dependent fer years...though at the same time i said to myself...

i said SELF...i definitely DON'T wanna shitty piece of pretentious jewelry...

also...i'm no spring chicken anymore (well not without the help of a dimly lit candle and a vat of vaseline on the lense anyways to make me look like a fetus in a wig) i'm more like an i've fall'n and can barely get up feline with work'n parts and alot closer to rent'n a room at SHADY PINES than i want to admit...plus...

it'll be nice to finally settle down to some "MURDER SHE WROTE" marathons and toss'n back a few metamucil martini's after my nitely lime jell-o tube feed'n... 

before count'n sheep without have'n to book another flight to the red door clinic...hopefully!

oddly though...only 6 months into my proposed nuptials and i felt like my

euphoria was gett'n buried 6 feet under...all those rapturous matrimonial flutterbies had somehow...somewhere flown the coop and i began to contemplate if i was bein' duped...so fer the next 6 months i did what any insane devotee would do to change the stalemate situation they were now knee deep in and kicked it into over drive...

by not only suprise'n him with a nite on the town at some outta-my-price range speakeasy...

tickets to see the very sadly forgettable "PURPLE RAIN" musical...

merrily watch'n his mongrel (that i j'adored) on numerous occasions so he could get outta dodge...

but even JOAN CRAWFORD'n the fuck outta his pitiful palace once fer 6 hours after drive'n back early  from a very bountiful turkey dinner prepared by my bff PEETRINELLA and all i got in return upon his return from outta town was "geez...did yer OCD kick in again?"

i hadn't broken my "boundaries" by bend'n over backwards fer anyone 

like that in well over 20 years when i was embroiled in a tawdry and very tumultuous 4 1/2 year relationship that would give any sex therapist a run fer their money but this was just the salacious straw that broke this care'n camel's already sore back (mostly due to ride'n the waves in his waterbed) into give'n a single shit about it anymore and decided to mentally SARAH JESSICA PARKER my still supple and still smooth creamy white A-double snakes the H-E-double hockey stix outta his lair and vowed never to return and still haven't to this day!

mind you...i harbor no ill will towards him...it's just a learn'n curve ball 

in the game of life...however...i know that my worth is worth it's weight in dollar store diamonds so if you think this unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe is ever gonna chow down on another measly matrimonial bullshit baloney sammich any time soon...think again! 

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

don't go just yet...

***BREAK'N SNEWZ***

anyone over the age of 50 remembers that iconic sarcastically affectionate

landlady in those kaleidoscopically infused muumuu's...drown'n in brilliantly colorful statement pieces and topped off with a brassy red wig from the Eva Gabor collection in the mid to late 1970's...HELEN ROPER...on the sexually ambiguous slap stick comedy series fer the 1st 3 seasons (that puts me to sleep nitely) THREE'S COMPANY

since the lame ass Zombie pub crawls have become trife and troublesome

ever since it's been take'n over by corporate cover charges...a new wave of cocktail crawlers have take'n over the liquor lounges across the land and i'll be host'n the very 1st happy hour in then Minne-Apple area fri oct. 16th ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY FREE at the James Ballentine Uptown VFW Post 246 honor'n the late great AUDREY LINDLEY...who incidentally passed away 29 years ago on the very same day (who knows...maybe i'll bring my ouija board and try and make contact with HELEN myself)

i've even designed not 1 but 2 HELEN specific cocktails to immerse you into the experience....so grab yer gorgeous gals and yer fabulous fagula's...mock yerself up in yer fav-o-rit muumuu and come and knock on our door!

Frosty Flakers

i was a big fan of that chemically enhanced mouthful of confectionery fun

as were most of us Gen X'ers that grew up with that fuck'n hypnotize'n tiger in the ascot with a daddy's roar durin' the 80's...turns out though that they weren't all that fuck'n grrrrreat after all since i would end up gett'n 8 damn cavities from o.d'n on em before fall'n into some confectionery coma once a week durin' my tenderly traumatic teen years...you'd think i'da learn my lesson

when it comes to date'n a potential failure...that could very well turn into yer future failure...cuz let's be real here...you only really got 'em on loan...since well death is inevitable...so there's not really an effective how to handbook on how to keep them in yer clutches ferever...doesn't matter

whether yer some back comb'n...booze guzzle'n breeder in daisy dukes too sizes too small...puff'n a 2 pack of Marlboro golds on a daily basis...shoot'n out bastard children in the trailer park like a lawn sprinkler...

or some highly pitched bitch that squeals like some blow monkey on meth...think'n they're the creme' de'la'fem of the crop tops but look more like a bloated blood sausage burst'n in their BVD's...constantly consume'n the spotlight on themselves...either case...we all have our rules when hunt'n fer that special fucktard to call our very own

i used to find that when i was search'n fer a potentially interested failure...

i preferred someone closer to the top of the food chain...that would to jump off a cliff...while chant'n my name when they would see me...

though in all actuality...i find that just simply wait'n fer 3 simple dates with some simpleton before we're both make monkey love like greased up yorkshire pigs at the county fair is much more fair in the end as long as they don't ask me fer cab fare...keep in mind though...this doesn't mean i wanna move in or get married by date #4 or anything like that...

i mean seriously kittens...i don't have a lifetime membership discount card to any local hardware store nor do i own any stock options at any move'n company...

i'll just leave that to the professionals

of course fer the purpose of this melodrama...most of my love life has been played out like any one of Avril Lavigne's big hits and eventually

unfortunately just like the albums...when it's over...it's completely over...you just have'ta pick yerself back up and eventually move on to the next one without any regrets to start the ol' engine again

i have never felt the need to rent a room in desperadoville nor did i ever

practice my baton twirl'n in some pathetic pity parade charade just cuz society deems that yer used up and worn out at a certain age...nor do i subscribe to that tired "oh you'll find someone out there someday"

BUTT…hear me out

yes i agree when it's good...it's good...but let's get real here kittens...

it's way more fun to spend yer hard earned benjamins on the one person you know that'll really appreciate you fer you...and that is YOU! without have'n to get permission from yer annoy'n pathetick half...half the time...especially when you add other expensive shit buckets into the equation that have ruined yer waistline beyond belief and milk'd yer piggy bank dry just about every other week

i've done my fair share of charitable acts thru-out my love life...date'n from

 and fall'n into those head over heels hallmark moments with thee emotionally unstable in my late 20's...

thee socially retarded in my middle 30's...

and thee chemically independence in my early late 40's

after 3 decades of this...i didn't need to date any more judgmental judy's

and decided it was time to rethink about me fer a change and dip back into the insane single lane...oh don't take that the wrong way...each and everyone of those frosted flakes of failure from my past...did mean somethin' to me at some point obviously since they were with me and i'll admit...i do hold a very small portion to be polite to the demise of it all

but just like a carton of eggs...they all had their expiration date once i was fried on them

so i figer'd it was time to save money on therapy and decided to pack up

those things that many refer to as "feelings" to the back of my limbic system of my cranium...hit the road and just pump and dump fer a while...safely...when needed of course

it would take me 2 years later before i decided it was time to clean my...

love shack shit shack from all that bad chi that had been hang'n around me fer far too long and decided to go on my 1st actual date that i wanted to actually follow thru with 5 years ago

everyone knows when they think there's a possibility with a person of interest...you pull out yer rule book and just go from there...and this one seemed to fit my profile...he had the looks....charm...that wrinkled twinkle

 in his eyes that made me wanna know more...i am a sucker fer a set of iris's (to keep his anonymity safe...i'll just use what he said what he was compared to before as a visual and i'll say it's pretty close) anyways...where was i? oh yea...the only thing miss'n from him was the back handed sammich compliments or glassy eyes that i seem to mentally get attracted to...he was just way too nice and dare i say "normal" this was all new unfamiliar unchartered waters fer me...so we continued to have non verbal chatter via text fer a week or so til we would have an ACTUAL conversation...somethin' that most millennials can't even comprehend with a google search

date #1 was at my palace...since he said he didn't have a tv yet at home...

so we watched one of my all time fav movies "MURIEL'S WEDDING" since he had never seen it before and i could basically recite it word fer word at this point...but trust me Muriel..."i was not terrible" i pondered whether or not to have this be the 1st movie since some might interpret it as a "sign" of panic or desperation...but 2 tears in the bucket...mutha fuck-it!

 the alternative i'da rather watched was "TEXAS CHAINSAW: THE BEGINNING" then i remembered 1st dates are all about give'n memorable impressions and i didn't want him think'n i was some ax wield'n homocidal maniac wish'n he'd packed his can of mace (well not yet anyways) or wish'n he'd gone with what was behind door number 2 instead

there was alot of saliva swapp'n and heavy pett'n at the conclusion of the

movie i can confirm but no dignity was lost nor were any pearl necklaces made

by date #2...i was summoned to his palace...which luckily...was within my

 drive'n radius...walk'n up to his perfectly sculptured yard...we talked more about this and that and that and this that really was just the typical filler conversation on a 2nd date...oh and he was the perfect hostess too...he served me brown rice and tofu on a bed of lightly sea salted kale an exotic beer and we talked alot more as his modular furniture faded into the nite sky...he started kiss'n me...like i hadn't been kissed in years (it's in my rules book under the chapter "slipp'n down the saliva slide too soon") then all of a sudden...off slid our dignity and i was oddly summoned by the faint sounds of Miss Bernhard...chant'n in the back of my head...while in his bed

"stop! do you have any rubbers? while yer at it...could you make it 2? and i would feel just a little bit better if you would apply some spermicidal  jams and jellies to the area" i will not confirm or deny if any sorta broken rules of fornication that may or may not have happened at this point that nite...you just go ahead and fill in the blanks with yer own dirty lil thoughts kittens

finally date #3 had finally arrived as planned...and he planned fer us to see

some sappy dizzy flick about fish...seriously? "FINDING DORY"? we were in our early late 40's fer fuck sakes how about "find'n a decent cocktail bar" perhaps with some Connie Francis or Shelly Fabre echo'n in the background...i always liked Shelly Fabre though i didn't wanna be some snotty ingrate and i can say with all honesty...i melted at the thought however at the same time i'll be honest...a bit of an odd choice fer us at our tender and almost crusted middle age without an accompanying cocktail but then i remembered he was a full 24 hours older than me and i had to do as he said

his hands were all over me like an octopus outta water the whole time which i guess meant he was sorta into me...unless it was due to some sorta nervous tick disorder...either way...i'll admit it was nice...though this "NICE" thing...just a lil eepy cray and totally outta my comfort zone from what i'm used to from my dates

once the movie was over...it was back to his palace to walk his dogs and as i felt more comfortable with him...i unfolded more parts of my past however i noticed an instant change in his demeanor when i spoke briefly of my unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe disappear'n career...an all to familiar feel'n that flows like a flood of apparent flaws thru me...now mind you...as much as i was try'n on these new flirty slacks that i haven't put on fer some time...i was in NO WAY ready to call it quits with my single life or memorize the lyrics to "i do i do i do" by ABBA (even though i've practiced plenty of times durin' one of my many highway car concerts) but i just knew the storm was about to hit

once the dogs were back home...the nite was ended with that uncomfortable kiss you would give an elderly incontinent relative you haven't seen in ages...who fergot to put their choppers back in their mouth

well...at this point...i figer'd i had no need to spend my benjamins call'n...

 Miss Cleo fer any future advice...the write'n was on the wall and by late nite the follow'n day...i would receive that "it's not you...it's me" text...somethin' a spineless jelly fish would send cuz you know...person to person is outta the question...pretty much say'n nothin' i haven't heard before...which is why it didn't shock me much at all...plus i'm not gonna waste my time try'n to decipher whether he may or may not have meant somethin' else via his text...

so to save face of course...i would respond with the stale mate refried crap on toast response "yea...friends are fine" text...which is what i thought that's all we were to begin with anyways...though realistically we both know it'll never come to that in the end

all of a sudden...a light bulb popped on in my mind as Miranda ran thru it

i seriously hold no ill will towards him at all...cuz he really is a sweet guy

and as per Avril...he to would make it into a sweet song...but sweets cause cavities...and who needs another mental dental bill?...i could say i certainly hope he finds what he's look'n for...but why?

i have absolutely no regrets with anyone i've ever fancied thus far in my 

life as much of a struggle as it at seem in the 1st place with anyone at that particular moment in time nonetheless i'll make it thru the wilderness and soldier on 

til it's time fer my metamucil martini's in the moonlite...marinate'n my shoulders in an assortment of bengay cremes and Murder She Wrote marathons

i'd just filed this whole experience under "don't distress"...

just Get Off My Dress!