picture it kittens...the year was 1996 and hard rock'n alcoholic wives KISS
had reunited fer the 1st time in their full demonic kabuki war paint want'n to "ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT" by become'n the highest gross'n tour that year
SALLY FIELD began stalk'n rapey murderer KEIFFER SUTHERLAND
in the highly intense dark drama "EYE FOR AN EYE"
and CELINE DION's sappy single "IT'S ALL COMING BACK TO ME" was
basically KISS's face paint...SALLY and SUTHERLAND's flick and CELINE's song which could best describe just how things went down one hot~n~steamy july nite back then...
BUTT...lemme explain
you'd finally met from the phonelines after a few months of ping pong chitter chatter...where everything seems to be click'n like clock work...as Lil KIM's (feature'n SISCO...why not!) "HOW MANY LICKS" breaks the sound barrier on yer magnavox hi-fi shelf stereo system just as you get to that point of sheer explosive in yer face ecstasy...literally!
where you can feel the bells of Saint Jim Beam...Saint Johnny Walker and Saint Jose Queervo that you made out with earlier in the nite bang'n on yer fuck'n ear drums...
wish'n you'd of worn yer swimm'n goggles to bed only cuz yer "not so gentleman caller" tips his head back at a 45 degree angle popp'n his jaws open like a pez dispenser and lett'n out a boisterous whale like some 6'5 wookie with a throat plunger...
as he blasts off like skyrockets in flight with buckets full of his afternoon delight (in the middle of the nite) well...suffice it to say...i will dispense with the visuals on yer behalf so my experience doesn't damage yer image of me...however...
let's just say it was like stare'n into a semi straight eye of an enormous sexual backed up Mount Saint Hummer that particular eye-open'n even'n
well..23 years later that story really has absolutely nothing to do with any
of today's off the wall insane asylum babble that i received via text one morn'n recently (i just felt like tip toe'n down memory lane and thought you needed a lil spice in yer life kittens) so any who'z'ill'ding
so there i was last week pull'n the lid off my coffin so i could recharge my
sanity along with my cell when all of a sudden i received a random unknown text ask'n me "how are you doin?" to which i simply stated "wake'n up...who's this?" that my unknown texter followed up merely millemoments later with a "are you horny?" response...
to which i counter his question with a question of my own "AM I HORNY?" hmmm...though i had hoped my random texter was from irish mchottie COLIN FARRELL and he had F-I-N-A-L-L-Y decided to lift that stupid stalk'n embargo he had put out on me years back when i tried role play'n "PHONE BOOTH" with him...however i had decided after i scraped my supple milky white A double snakes outta bed that this probably indeed wasn't the COLIN i was think'n about after all so i simply replied "not at this very moment mister mystery man though if you bring me an cranberry redbull i'll be ready to do the hokey pokey in a matter of minutes!"
ps...unless he was some apocalyptic costco banshee who had stock piles in his fall-out shelter...they sadly discontinued my fav-o-rit energy booster in 2020 (which truly saddens me!)
who ever said live'n a life as thee unintentionally internationally unknown
perform'n illusionist of my own universe was worth the adulation i bet never hadda deal with this bullshit so early in the am hours
as i began to splash on some jean nate' after bath body splash all over my
my supple yet tired milky white flesh just to wake up my tired ass wait'n fer a simple response and literally within a nano second i was hit with a title wave text with no clue who my early morn'n horny toad was so instead of smack'n you with the entire tidal waved text...i figered i'd break it down since you obvious have nothing else to do with yer day but read about about my life:
DAMNNNNNNNN...IT'S NOT COLIN! (i know this cuz bein irish and all he would never spell SHIT...it would be spelt SHITE!)
so the next clue was brutal...which of course made me immediately think of POPEYE's nemesis BLUTO or BRUTUS (depend'n on the year you watched him)
well...well...well...at this point it was gett'n all a lil "MURDER SHE WROTE" bullshit...cuz i still had no clue what shits he had of mine (i've been potty trained since i was roughly 3 after all) and i don't have a storage locker saved up anywhere that i knew of
then i thought why would they say don't call the FBI or the boys in blue...wai'da'minute...i bet this is just Marcella gett'n back at me all cuz i had poly gripped all her panty hose together into a parasol
kitten...PUHLEEZ...if MADONNA had taught me anything...it's that you N-E-V-E-R regret a thing and if you have it...ummm just FLAUNT IT!
oh OK LEX LUTHER...
you got me!
needless to say i had no stamps to comply to his ridickulous request
so GET OFF MY DRESS!
