Showing posts with label PHONE LINES. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PHONE LINES. Show all posts

Monday, October 16, 2023

I AIN’T CLOWN’N AROUND

with the season of madness and mayhem now in full bloom...it's time fer
  sweater weather...whether you like it or not and if yer A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G like me (you of course can subtract 10 points immediately from yer personality if you ARE NOT...oh and also loose my number while yer at it kitten cuz i ain't got time to explain myself anymore) anywho'zll'ding...that means it time to cuddle up to some chilly thrillers with my personal choice involve'n anything clown or clown related and of course my all time fav-o-rit bein' the colorful campiness from 1988 titled "KILLER KLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE"
then there's the retell'n of the killer clown from 2017 known as PENNYWISE from the brilliant STEPHEN KING novel "IT"
the lesser known creepiness from 2019 is "WRINKLES THE CLOWN" who you could supposedly call to scare the live'n fecal matter outta the colons of kids in the sunshine state 
and lastly on my list of overly painted bozo bastards is "VULGAR" from 2000 about a miserable bday party clown fer unappreciative pint sized shit buckets struggle'n to make ends meet...who loves and lives his career path until he decides to go out on a limb by expand'n his horizons and become a gay clown stripper fer bachelor parties in New Jersey and soon regrets his decision

once my marathon of clown carnage was completely over i had laid back  
in bed with my peek-a-boo pj's on and wrapped in my Tracey Turnblad cock roach comforter... 
with my mug completely molested in a St Ives mint julep mud mask...it got me to think'n about all the past killer clowns i've had run in's where i...thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...
could'a easily been written in as some tawdry yet twisted movie of the week!
BUTT...let's get to it shall we?

so let's go back in time to the spring of 1990 when i was on my lil lunch 
break at the Children's Theater in the Minne-Apple and had discovered an ad at the back of the local fag rag i was flipp'n thru at the time...about meet'n local singles in the area...well...me bein' just'a spring chicken plucked from the bowels of a small minnesotan town to fend fer myself in the big cold hard city...i was like a lotus flower ready to bloom so i called the line and a week later i decided to meet my very 1st big city kinky clown at a local non heterosexual intoxication station in the downtown Minne-Apple area on 18+ nite since i was just barely 20 at the time
this was before i was with car...so i basically hadda check on flight schedules from St Paul to Minneapolis to meet this guy...cuz i was tired of the 3 bus transfers i hadda take to work on a daily basis that always was a fuck over moment when the weather was bad or cuz some road rage'n rectal pirate hadda get to Costco Crazy Daze Deals before the sale ended on anchovies and briskets by cutt'n off someone in front of my bus

by the time i had reached our desired destination...i reluctantly fergot my 
ID back at my place of residence at the time and i was not about to rebook a flight back just to get it...unfortunately the gammorean guard at the front door hadda cop an attitude with me and couldn't be bothered in the slightest by my desperate pleas to just let me pass on by...
even after batt'n my daddy long leg lashes at him...
so i waited patiently across the street at some primitive speak'n station fer roughly 10 minutes to see if said phone trade would come out and recognize me

minutes later...what looked like the description of the gentleman caller 
that i had secretly lusted after in my mind from bus to bus as i made my way to downtown Minneapolis (hey...you gotta step inside my mind fer just a minute to understand where i was goin with this) anyways...he would cross the street and we exchanged typical bullshit banter fer about 5 minutes and though he fit the description he mentioned on line fer the most part (well except fer the part how he had inverted the numbers he used to describe himself) he compared himself to savory sveedish meatballer DOLPH LUNGREN...
though he resembled more of a sveedish meatball with an over grown cum catcher to cover up his snaggle teeth and marinate'n in paco rabanne cologne so of course you can imagine how i would feel some sorta hesitation in me...
only cuz this would be the 1st time i thought i was gonna become deflowered...perhaps!

he asked me if i wanted to go to his place in uptown...and me bein' totally
unfamiliar with the Minneapolis area and it's surround'ns at this point in time...i asked him where uptown was and he explained it was only about 5 miles away (keep in mind kittens...it's 10:30pm on a warm spring weekend...with winds outta the west at 10 to 15 miles per hr) so i asked where his car was and his response was that he didn't have one but it was such a nice nite out that he suggested we just walk instead of cabb'n it back to his butcher shop...i mean bungalow

now here me out...i don't mind a dance in the dark...a drink in the dark
hell...i don't even mind a dick (or 2) in the dark...but there ain't no way in H-E-double hockey stix that i am walk'n 5 miles thru the dimly lit streets of some city i knew nothing about at the time...though i remember he said we could take a short cut thru some Loring Park and it wouldn't be as long...i still resisted and said i was gonna hop on the bus back to St Paul and i would never hear from my 1st date ever again...
well except fer the fact that he called me the next day ask'n what i thought of a 2nd date so i thought don't be a prick about it and told him politely that i was look'n fer someone closer to the top of the food change...i mean closer to my age!

forward to a year later and i was now live'n in the uptown area with my
very 1st roomie at the time Doug (who i no longer dig anymore just FYI) we were as inseparable as a moth to a flamer (in a non sexual way) bs'n one lazy afternoon when he came home from a difficult day at the park (hey...i don't judge people's professions...i just report 'em) he happened to have the latest fag rag in his hand that he tossed it on our coffee table...which H-E-L-L-O (we were almost 22 after all) consisted of a large microwave box covered in a printed pillow case...
like most under privileged rectally retarded roomies had done with limited income at the time...cuz we were more concerned about the 3D'sd (dance'n...drink'n and dick'n our days away)

i happened to notice the guy on the cover as the 1st date i ever had when
i came across him on the phone line on one non productive day at work scrubb'n out the urinals just try'na pass time a year earlier...i thought to myself as i picked up the rag...damn...he's in the paper on the front page and i was too damn lazy to walk with him to his dwell'ns that one windy spring nite...what was i think'n?

turns out that it was a good thing that i had listened to the flutterbies in my 
gut that even'n fer a change...cuz 2 months after our dismal date...it turns out my date had gunned down 21 year old Joel Larson in Loring Park in the back...and then a month later...he went after former state senator 48 year old John Chenoweth with his 19 year old trick of the nite Cord Drazst...at bare ass beach along the Mississippi river...luckily fer Drazst though he was able to bar hop with his buddies after that horrible incident...that i would run into on occasion while bar hopp'n...that is....until he was 32 ((leave it to my dearest friend Peetrinella and her X to indoctrinate me into non discretional pick-up life at bare ass beach in the midnite hour just a year earlier) apparently my "date" aspired to be the latest serial killer at that moment in time (everyone's gotta have goals i guess)

don't even get me started about the 3 days after i'd moved to Milwaukee..
in the winter of 1992 and the Dahmer trials where all over the front pages (not that i hadda worry if he wasn't caught yet...well...cuz he only liked dark meat apparently)
or how i used to check in Andrew Cunanan at the gym i was work'n at downtown once i had moved back to Minneapolis before he went on his shoot'n spree...
or my other date i had met in my early middle 20's late one nite or early one morn'n (depend'n on how you wanna look at it) who's left prosthetic arm fell off onto my entry way floor when i let him inside my apt (just a simple minor detail he fergot to mention to me when we were chatt'n on line i guess) now don't get me wrong...
i have absolutely zero issues with the handicap so don't turn this into some PC picket parader on my supple snow white A-double snakes...nonetheless...i informed Dr Hook that it would be best if he could kindly just pick up his appendage and look fer another peter'd pansy to poke at that nite!

then there was that one time pre-wanna-be-serial-killer-date...in the hot
summer of 1990 when i was wait'n fer my cuz's hubs to pick me up from St Paul on the corner 3 blocks from where i currently reside...when this juiced up shirtless hot tamale pulled a gigantor hunt'n knife on me late one nite and told me to "get off his block" and that is a direct quote (cuz apparently...2 nites later someone did not take his demands so seriously)

and lastly was the time i hadda save a failed fling from his "str8" married 
feckless fuck from Fridley that he had met online (the same place i had met my 2nd fling a month later in 1990) and said fling had lured him into false pretenses to pick him up and gett'n a free ride over to my apt in hopes of a meaningful menage a trois i guess without my knowledge and without give'n him "the ride of his life" like he had promised apparently so i was left to MEAN GENE OKERLUND this impromptu cage match in my front yard on the corner of crackville avenue and hooker junction in the wee hours of the nite with these 2 unhinged horny hustler's (and honestly...i should'a got paid fer that one!)

if i were a cat...statistics say i should have only about 3 more lives left...
so until another clown comes along...GET OFF MY DRESS!

Monday, August 1, 2022

CALCULATE'N THE COST!

picture it kittens...it's 1984 and Miss Ciccone was the shit...sitt'n at #2

it's not all that uncommon fer real common folk down on their luck or not
to expect to be pampered like a princess in exchange fer lower'n their standards along with their dignity just so they can avoid have'n to tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen...pour'n themselves a cup of ambition...yawn'n stretch'n try'na come to life
i mean who out there doesn't hate deal'n with the fuck'n rush hour and road closures on a daily basis?
and fer those point'n their fingers at those who desperately wanna know how to marry a millionaire...well they're just lie'n thru their jean nate' after bath body splash!

think about it fer a minute...we're all taught at an early age to tap dance
like a trained trollop in front of our gastric bypassed grand parents or our arthritic aunts and uncles every time they pop in fer a visit in hopes to earn some monetary affection in the form of a small gift or plain old cold hard cash even when it's not yer birthday

i outta know...i worked an easy 5 spot outta my aunt and soon to be uncle
separately on the same day at 9 years old in 1980 when they came to visit on the farm so i could get a lift to Kresge's store in downtown Winona just to be the princess lay'n between a Solo and Skywalker sammich!

i myself never gave it a second thought though i thought fer one second
what my life would've been like if i had an unlimited expense account at someone else's expense? then i remembered as i dug into the archives of the hippocampus trunk of my brain one lazy afternoon with a couple of stalkers while sipp'n on a spirits to lift my own spirits at a tacky tiki bar...i almost had!

the 1st time was in my very late early 20's when i became absofuckinlutely
addicted to the free phone lines when i spotted them in the back pages of the weekly rag i would read on my lunch break much to Peetrinella's giddy displeasure…well this one particular caller who i'd give'n my personal digits to desperately wanted to set up an afternoon delights of sorts...tittilate'n my thoughts with untold treasures i thought i would never receive in my lifetime at the time 
proclaim'n he could shower upon me a new car...a condo…a closet full of clothes...an endless atm machine…
and a multitude of european escapades over any rainbow i desired...
and the cherry on top of this salacious sundae was that i could personally pick from his bevvy of beefy bodied builders that built fer his construction company to meet all my rectal rendezvous needs in return to ONLY hold his hand in public...it all seemed like a simple request i simply couldn't pass up!

well...once the date was set...he politely asked me if i wanted anything
to drink of which diet coke was my heroin at the time and it was a particularly parch'n day so my wish would come true i was told...unfortunately...as i waited gleefully under the tree shadow outside my apartment build'n as not to burn my sensitive lily white flesh desperately hope'n that some diet coke "daddy warbucks" would soon be seen on the horizon...
unfortunately my dreams became shattered when i noticed some wart hog in a wind breaker carry'n a 20 once bottle of my thirst quench'n drug and as thirsty as i was that day i could not deal with my dungarees and my dignity on his damn floor like a callous calculated whore d’oeuvre

it would be 20 years later that i found out by trade'n war stories with my X 
bf's mom...that said wart hog was a married man who had passed away and that his wife had actually given a cool 5mill to her late meal ticket's "hand holder" in another state that she was well aware of as he had bequeathed his pop tart my promised lifestyle in his will if i'd only hold his blood sausaged phalanges!
BUTT wait...there's more

when the age of the dot coms started to burst at the seams...it seemed
only appropriate since i was now in arms length of my 30's to reevaluate my value and since Willy Wonka was the only sugar daddy that i'd ever known...i thought i'd experiment and expand my horizons and found myself fill'n out a profile as a joke instigated by a friend to fill my "sweet tooth" curiosity...never believe'n fer a cotton candy minute that the site was actually real let alone ever get a response...however a week later i did receive a message from some confectionary cash cow in a dusty grey mens warehouse bogo suit and a jazzy pink tie

i replied back with my new cell number at the time and soon i would
receive a call from some maxi pad invite'n me to my interested parties hotel fer a formal interview...i thought what in the  shit is this? i've interviewed fer many jobs but never fer ones beginn'n with blow! i of course bothered not to apply to their retarded request fer some inquisition acquisition

it would be almost 10 years later before i once again found myself at
the cash crossroads cross'n the road on a chilly nite before christmas to meet up with some money bags who tracked me down thru a facebook search with a private message that he was come'n to town fer biz and thought i was "adorable" (ummm...his words...NOT MINE!) 

my 1st instinct i thought before decide'n to accept his request to chat was
hmmm...i haven't been called adorable since one of my grade school teachers in the 80's had me stay after school to work on a paper machete project of Kermit the frog and Miss Piggy fer some valentines contest on the radio that she wanted to enter where she would eventually go on to take full credit fer my hard work and win herself a Maytag washer/dryer combo who told me how adorable i was and had the most beautiful bedroom brown eyes (true story) HEY! i didn't know if she was tell'n me the truth or not but the truth is i didn't really care...flattery will get you everywhere! then i thought...HOLD UP! this was my profile pic i had up at the time...
so was he tell'n me that he was some sorta pervie who wanted to manage me as one of his latest milk carton models?

suffice it to say...i decided to throw caution to the wind and leave the last
year of my 30's dignity at the doorsteps since he tried ease'n my cautious mind by sweeten'n the pot and offer'n me a pair of teardrop ruby earrings and what gurl can say no to that i ask you?

Madonna's 2nd X hubby's movie had just been released at this particular 
space in time and mentioned he wanted to take me to it after a fancy dinner at some spendy downtown eatery where you can't even super size yer fries so i knew this guy meant business therefore i threw on my best pressed lime green pedal pushers and topped them off with a snazzy sangria dyed blouse (compliments of some cuntessa at the christmas party fer work the nite before) then hopped on the #6 after doin a #2 

he texted me his room number and said he'd have the door ajar when i arrived and to just walk right on in...the only thing that went thru my mind
on the bus ride to my lottery ticket...i mean date...was that i hope this Bruce Willisey/Richard Gere-ish looker wasn't to pushy when it came to my privates...however as i exited the bus and the elevator doors closed lift'n my up to his room i thought who am i kidd'n...i'm no spring chicken...
my eggs have long been hatched and i'll most likely never get this offer again since my 4th decade was right around the corner plus he would be shocked as shit to finally meet the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe in person so i threw all my moralistic endeavors down the elevator shaft and walked thru his door...unfortunately i would be the one who was shocked as shit cuz my money bragg'n Bruce Willisey/Richard Gere-ish guru
looked more like tv's polident pariah Ernest Borgnine lean'n back in bed with his head tilted to recreate the look that he looked like in his pic he sent me...that was take'n like over 200 years ago i swear!

i never liked fish'n as a past time however this was the 1st time i was bein'
totally fuck'n cat fished and he was ready to mount me at any minute...i mean why not? i ain't bragg'n (that much) nevertheless i was a total catch fer this fossilized fisherman do you understand me?

i figered i had 2 options at this point...i could either make him feel like
a geriatric genie that needed to be put back in his bottle...give'n a suppository after his lime jell-o and tucked into bed or stand my ground and put back on my purity shield panties i had subsequently stuffed in my blazer on the way to his room (hey i'm an optimistic opportunist...don't be some judgemental judy) 

turns out my spirits were up while sipp'n on the spirits with him durin' our
dinner...the movie was just the perfect chaperone i needed to keep him from clutch'n my crotch and as the even'n came to a close luckily my clothes would never end up as a puddle in the middle of his hotel floor though he wanted to see me the next nite to give me somethin' fer xmas unfortunately i wasn't available since i was celebrate'n it with my aunt Ellen but assured him the nite after i would deck his halls

it would be his last nite in town so he laid out all his cards on the table
the morn'n i arrived back to his room once again and he proceeded to tell me how he owned some chemical plant in some california city and that he was worth millions and that his last arm candy who apparently looked very similar to me was given $150g's as a severance package when they ended their relationship after 2 years...stunned i contemplated his somewhat generous offer then said "you think i'm only worth $150,000?" 
well i would ultimately counter offer him before i put back on my sunglasses and walked myself out the door!

flash forward to my current state of distress and the mess i'm in...hunt'n 
fer work durin' this damn panic pandemic still after gett'n screwed over by some snaky oil paint'n salesman and i received this very message in my insta account recently...SHIT! now what the fuck do i do?
eh! i'm done chase'n after that damn dream...my odds are probably better pick'n my own balls!
now GET OFF MY DRESS!