ONE fer THE RECORD BOOK pt. 1

anniversaries are like assholes when you think of it...everyone has one 

whether it's regard'n a glorious matrimonial experience...

or some unfortunate colossally tragic event! 

unfortunately...though some many be worth remember'n... 

others just turn into a heap'n pile of steamy shit and there ain't no hallmark card to cover it up (unless of course you have connections to britain's M15...allegedly...A-L-L-E-G-E-D-L-Y i said!)

well after a year and a half of eat'n bonbon's and make'n my debut in the

much anticipated 80's chiller thriller of the year "TELEPHONE" in 2021 which is already an instant classic i've been told... 

by the lollipop guild live'n inside my head i FINALLY got a weekly deposit (HEY keep it cleans kittens kapeesh!)  fer the past 3 months back in my old stomp'n grounds that i so desperately needed since my piggy bank was starve'n marvin 

so it's time fer my to pull up my culottes and train my brain to get back

 on my normal ritualistic sunday nite schedule of a st. ives mint julip mud mask...followed by a 15 minute "routine" of tea bagg'n the dollar store sacks under my almond shaped bedroom brown eyes...buff'n down those unsightly hooves with some borax and a high powered sander and a "special" cuppa cocoa to settle the restless natives down below fer a much needed restless nite

well this week i decided to take a walk down my misery lane of the date'n

pool in my blog ramblins' and celebrate the 12th anniversary of one of my most iritate'nly exasperate'n dates i've ever had to date that had the pleasure to be in the presence of thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe (without so much as collect'n a gift or some simple canned goods i might add) though this time i've added a much needed pictorial car wreck to make it a much more aggravate'n yet an invite'n amuse'n read so give it another run thru again or perhaps yer just read'n  it fer the 1st time...with that in mind i hope you enjoy my anally reductive car crash from 2011...on with the show!

with all the hoopla goin' on in my naturally born...single...non heterosexual 

life these days...filled with the 3B's...bar's...booze and boy's (turns into the 3M's after 50...metamucil...Matlock reruns and mens-a-pause) that i'd almost fergotten what it was like to concentrate solely on just ONE person...besides myself...fer a change

mainly cuz i'm reminded recently...on a daily basis...how utterly frustrate'n 

it can be...by friends and family members...who are...fer a lack of a better word...completely JEALOUS of my apparent chosen life (ya won't find me in the freezer section of yer fav-o-rit grocery store at 9 pm frantically look'n for that chemically injected cookie dough for the next PTA meet'n anytime soon cuz yer too damn tired to make em yerself!)

oh...i don't mean being a mo'...that's "naturally born non heterosexual" 

fer  those still spitt'n their copenhagen in a tin can and play'n pocket pool with their "buddies" at the cabin on the weekends with back issues of Megan Fox in the pages of MAXIM magazine...no...i mean choose'n to be SINGLE lifestyle...cuz after all...it is a CHOICE we all make!!

so why is it that i constantly feel the need to give to charity?

i mean...i've give'n to march of dimes...performed free for aids charities over the years...volunteered for the raisin rancher's at any given hospice...consoled the socially retarded...chemically dependent...and emotionally unavailable mo's...when is enough...ENOUGH?

recently...a while ago...i decided it was time to venture into unknown 

territory again for another charitable act of the week (most call it a date) to the outer reaches of my planet called C-H-C-H-C-H-A-S-K-A!! (it might as well have been on the planet HOTH)

this guy i'd been chatt'n to the other nite...a while ago...YES…i’m still on 

the phone line from time to time (though fer narcoleptically entertainmental purposes only) anyways....he tells me he's 38 years old with 3 grown kids with one bein' a mo' still live'n with him and said he (my date) had been compared to a member of the GLEE club...so i'm think'n...OK...they're all pretty good look'n and my type (well...those of the male persuasion of course...after all...i am just a gurl) and if they were older of course (my babysitt'n days are O-V-E-R!) so we both decided to finally meet at his place the next nite around 7 pm for a movie before i went back to count'n sheep fer the remainder of my sleep deprivation

BUTT wait...lemme break it down fer ya...one by one!

first off...as i'm drive'n to what-the-hell-am-i-think'n land...i called to 

confirm directions as i would never venture out on a school nite this far (especially when it was as frigid and uncomfortable as Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman mack'n it up in EYES WIDE SHUT) but he tells me i'm close so he was gonna jump in the shower and his son would let me in

i make it to his place and of course no doorbell in my immediate sight to

ring and i was in no mood to go on a scavenger hunt look'n for one so his son notices me out the window and opens the garage door and seconds later up came the garage door...i felt like C-3PO wait'n to enter Jabba’s lair

secondly...the son was like a mini version of Johnny Depp from the 

"21 JUMP STREET" days...all tattooed up in the correct places...black baggy pants with a match'n black shirt with the top button slightly open...just enough to expose the beginn'n of "someone's" imaginational thoughts (keep me outta it)

i'm not into curly fries and wash'n it down with a bottle of zima and a tv crew

though we had some things in common...while i was wear'n safety pins 

in the 80's to look cool...he was wear'n 'em to stay dry...i was here to see his dad...not be his "daddy" nonetheless i was guess'n the apple fell off a good tree so i wasn't gonna push the panic button yet...maybe it was worth the drive after all and he was super polite too (somethin' i can freely admit...i am not at times) he leads me to the top floor of the town home where it reeked of burbanite city

you know...that smell of Costco overstock pre-packaged crap to eat...

Wickes furniture...Chuck Norris gym equipment that never was used and burnt out glade plug in's...still plugged in...though i reminded myself...not everyone can have a flair fer design this was just a date so i bit my tongue and saved my judgemental judyness comments...fer now!

i tried to push the eject button on the date but i couldn't escape the son's 

gravitational pull...he was cook'n some ramen noodleness (while undress'n me with his eyes) and since he had "GLEE" on in the kitchen we chatted about that and how cool that they had a musical tv series and he couldn’t stop admire'n and gush'n about my attire i had on (HELLO!...have you seen me?) i couldn't either if i wasn't already me (ummm...insert laugh here) i totally felt like i was a passenger aboard the can-it-get-any-better-than-this airlines

thirdly...but then it happened...*mayday*mayday*mayday*...you may now 

use your seat as a flotation device...we are experience'n a major malfucktion...i no longer felt like C-3PO but more like Princess Leia shackled to Jabba’s throne!! my date...WALKED IN!!

fourthly...we'll go with 38 first...while i was actually 38 in 2008...he was 

38 in like 1968! well ok...maybe that's a bit of a stretch and possibly a lil shallow (we ALL do it on 1st dates all you finger pointers so put 'em away) let's just say use'n Milton Burle mud masks on a weekly basis since you were what? like 12...not sooo good! (i just want you to close yer eyes and visualize it kittens)

ok...so maybe he wasn't lie'n about being compared to a cast member of 

"GLEE"...i just wasn't picture'n the lezbitronic football coach in my fantasy date and believe me when i say...i'm being kind here

he looked more like Miss Jane Hathaway...who'd been bitch slapped by

a coke habit fer the better part of the 90's in bad 80’s low ride'n acid wash jeans...a crappy 70's football jersey made for the jolly green giant and still uses the same  plastic hair bag with punch holes to pull his hair thru by nice'not-so'easy hair color'n kit to give yerself that unsuspect'n high lite job (the only good thing i can say about his appearance is that i'm glad he recycles!) plus he had marinated himself in enough paco raban that could'a choked the life outta a hippopotamus...however i figured...since i was already there i might as well just suffer thru the movie

so we went with KALIFORNIA with Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis...why not!

at least i could look at somethin’ hot...since i forgot my compact in the car...HA!

feel free to take a breathier at this point...make yerself a cocktail...then 

strap yourself in for the second half of my anniversary next week...now GET OFF MY DRESS!

SHAKE'N YER MONEY MAKERS

picture it kittens the year was 1981 and everyone's fav-o-rit swash buckler

from the 70's turned in his falcon boots and his blaster fer a whip and a pair of under stated carharts in search fer untold treasures make'n fans run like mad to the theaters...dominate'n the box office with the adventurous ride in "RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK"

DOLLY PARTON had roped in the radio stations fer the number one spot

fer 2 weeks in february of that year with her huge "voice" on a lil ditty she strummed up on her acrylic nails that would end up as the theme song to her act'n debut in "9 to 5" which also became her first and only #1 single on the billboard hot 100 

a little added bonus of useless information to stick in the back of yer brain

did you know only 3 months later in may of '81 that scottish song bird SHEENA EASTON also had hit the #1 spot fer 2 straight weeks on the billboard's hot 100 with the same titled song however to not confuse the kittens that tracked the charts in their fav-o-rit rock magazines...SHEENA decided to change the title and spell out the numbers in parentheses fer "MORNING TRAIN" (NINE TO FIVE)" also not to confuse the hollyweird foreign press and AMA judges durin' vote'n season (neither of which even bothered to nominate her that year...basturds!)

millions were rock'n in their lazy boy's with plush interior choke'n down

jiffy pop then quench'n their thirst slurp'n on a can of chemically enhanced fruit flavored shasta (with 10% real juice) while glued to their zenith console with swivel capability ever since someone shot JR in 1980 cause'n a global phenomenon and make'n it the #1 series the follow'n year where they cemented themselves as the very 1st tv show to coin the phrase "cliffhanger"

and i was just in my 10th year durin' the summer of '81 camp'n out at the 

Cudahy's down the road from our farm where i used to live when the dad Hunt woke me and his son Patrick up to watch thee event of the summer along with their 3 dogs...well i'm here to tell you i bought into it all kittens...the whole entire royal wedd'n fuck'n fairytale...hook line and stinker...become'n utterly fascinated and forever in love with LADY DIANA SPENCER fer some strange metaphysical reason...however...i wasn't the only one on the planet who tuned in

BUTT (i knew you were wait'n fer it)

16 years later this ferry's tale would be snuffed out in minutes after visit'n

some downtown homo drink'n hole in '97 when i was accosted by 2 snarky and not so put together queens on the dance floor who proceeded to tell me in their best inebriated voices that the PRINCESS was dead and of course my mind immediately went to the rebel alliance's fearless leader from Allderaan so i rushed home to see what had happened

unfortunately...i was completely shocked that this wasn't about Leia at all

after years of the relentless paparazzi hunt'n DIANA down 24/7 before...durin' and even more so after she divorced herself from that slither'n floppy eared royal pain the pancaked A double snakes just to get that perfect snap to sell her soul to the highest bidder...she sadly would end up eat'n it in the underpass of the Place de l'Alma in Paris on aug. 31st at only 36 years old

i couldn't believe that DIANA was gone and yes i am well aware that i've  

never had nor probably never would've gotten the distinct pleasure of meet'n her in ANY sorta formal or informal sett'n fer that matter like millions of others...nonetheless...i found it absolutely unsettle'n and completely appall'n how she had been hounded like a hunt'n fox fer years...DIANA had touched millions like myself thru-out the globe bein the PEOPLE's PRINCESS and though bein the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe that i am...i myself understand on a much less greater scale of course the need fer privacy

i had called in sick to 2 of my 3 part time jobs i was work'n at at the time

and by the time my birthday had rolled around on sept 6th it was the day PRINCESS DIANA would be laid to rest only in a manner befitt'n someone of her global stature and impact fer the whole world to witness

my only solace durin' this grief-stricken period thru-out the entire globe

was when my good friend FAEDRE who knew of my fascination with the PRINCESS OF WALES had just left her position at some uptown travel gift store however not before leave'n without a purple PRINCESS DIANA beanie baby as a part'n gift fer me that i have cherished and carried with me ever since...though many callous cuntruffle's at the time just scoped them up fer profit to sell fer ungodly amounts on ebay years later

ELTON JOHN of course re-released a stunn'n remake of his tribute to 

the legendary MARILYN MONROE with "CANDLE IN THE WIND (GOODBYE ENGLAND'S ROSE)" the reworked lyrics were a masterpiece in itself and of course never one to miss an opportunity to make a few extra fans while earn'n a few extra bucks he released a second track on the cd...why not!

how low do you have to go to profit off yer supposed friends death gurl?

ain't it bad enough how the paps profited off her fer the past 16 years? it's downright appall'n what people will do to profit off the pain of others...there's no dignity or respect fer those who've left us anymore...everyone just see's dollar signs fer the dead!

with that said...it has now been 25 years this week since the PEOPLE'S

PRINCESS has graced us with her unapologetic compassion fer others less fortunate...her breath take'n elegant beauty and her flirtatious witty charm who was extinguished way before her time in whatever conspiracy theory that you wanna believe in that caused her unfortunate demise

though as sad as it still stings me after all these years of DIANA no longer

with us...compassion...beauty and charm just don't pay the bills like they used to...so i'm throw'n in a commemorative DIANA issue from my KRYSTAL KLEER KOLLECTION with purchase which comes from a lovely smoke free shithole and untouched by filthy vermin's plus this HIGHLY RARE beanie baby made from roughly hundreds of thousands still has all it's original fuck'n tags attached...both in spearmint condition...so how about we start the bidd'n at 50 thousand dollars...do i hear 100? (email me yer best offer: irisheyes3313@gmail.com) 

ps...if you bid within the next 24 hours i'll also include this beautifully etched faux gold framed picture of 70's game show host BOB EUBANKS (that i got when the dollar store was actually a damn dollar) which i will personally sign and also include yer fav-o-rit inspirational quote from BOB EUBANKS (fer an extra $10 of course) but i'll gladly wave the shipp'n and handle'n fee (frame not included) voided where prohibited!

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

MISERY LOVES COMPANY pt. 1

anniversaries are like assholes when you think of it...everyone has one 

whether it's regard'n a glorious matrimonial experience or some unfortunate colossally tragic event 

some are worth remember'n... 

while others just turn into a heap'n pile of steamy shit and there ain't no hallmark card to cover it up (unless you have connections to britain's M15...allegedly...A-L-L-E-G-E-D-L-Y!)

well after a year and a half of eat'n bonbon's and make'n my debut in the

much anticipated 80's chiller thriller of the year "TELEPHONE" (already an instant classic i've been told by the lollipop guild live'n inside my head) i FINALLY got a fuck'n job that i really want so it's time fer my to pull up my culottes and train my brain to get back on my normal ritualistic sunday nite schedule of a st. ives mint julip mud mask...followed by a 15 minute "routine" of tea bagg'n the dollar store sacks under my almond shaped bedroom brown eyes...buff'n down those unsightly hooves with some borax and a high powered sander and a "special" cuppa cocoa to settle the restless natives down below fer a much needed restless nite

well this week i decided to take a walk down my misery lane of date'n in 

my blog ramblins' and celebrate the 10th anniversary of one of my most iritate'nly exasperate'n dates i've ever had to date that had the pleasure to be in the presence of thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe (without so much as collect'n a gift or some simple canned goods i might add) though this time i've added a much needed pictorial car wreck to make it a much more aggravate'n yet invite'n read so give it another run thru again or perhaps yer just read'n  it fer the 1st time...with that in mind i hope you enjoy my anally reductive car crash from 2011...on with the show!

with all the hoopla goin' on in my naturally born...single...non heterosexual 

life these days...filled with the 3B's...bar's...booze and boy's (turns into the 3M's after 50...metamucil...Matlock reruns and mens-a-pause) that i'd almost fergotten what it was like to concentrate solely on just ONE person...besides myself...fer a change

mainly cuz i'm reminded recently...on a daily basis...how utterly frustrate'n 

it can be...by friends and family members...who are...fer a lack of a better word...completely JEALOUS of my apparent chosen life (ya won't find me in the freezer section of yer fav-o-rit grocery store at 9 pm frantically look'n for that chemically injected cookie dough for the next PTA meet'n anytime soon cuz yer too damn tired to make em yerself!)

oh...i don't mean being a mo'...that's "naturally born non heterosexual" 

fer  those still spitt'n their copenhagen in a tin can and play'n pocket pool with their "buddies" at the cabin on the weekends with back issues of Megan Fox in the pages of MAXIM magazine...no...i mean choose'n to be SINGLE lifestyle...cuz after all...it is a CHOICE we all make!!

so why is it that i constantly feel the need to give to charity?

i mean...i've give'n to march of dimes...performed free for aids charities over the years...volunteered for the raisin rancher's at any given hospice...consoled the socially retarded...chemically dependent...and emotionally unavailable mo's...when is enough...ENOUGH?

recently...a while ago...i decided it was time to venture into unknown 

territory again for another charitable act of the week (most call it a date) to the outer reaches of my planet called C-H-C-H-C-H-A-S-K-A!! (it might as well have been on the planet HOTH)

this guy i'd been chatt'n to the other nite...a while ago...YES…i’m still on 

the phone line from time to time though fer narcoleptic purposes only...anyways....he tells me he's 38 years old with 3 grown kids...one being 20...a mo'...and live'n with him...and said he (my date) has been compared to a member of the GLEE club...so i'm think'n...OK...they're all pretty good look'n and my type (well...those of the male persuasion of course...after all...i am just a gurl) and if they were older of course (my babysitt'n days are O-V-E-R!) so we both decided to finally meet at his place the next nite around 7 pm for a movie before i went back to count'n sheep fer the remainder of my sleep deprivation

WELL kittens...lemme break it down fer ya...one by one!

first off...as i'm drive'n to what-the-hell-am-i-think'n land...i called to 

confirm directions as i would never venture out on a school nite this far (especially when it was as frigid and uncomfortable as Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes mack'n it up fer the paparazzi) but he tells me i'm close so he was gonna jump in the shower and his son would let me in

i make it to his place and of course no doorbell in my immediate sight to

ring and i was in no mood to go on a scavenger hunt look'n for one so his son notices me out the window and opens the garage door and seconds later up came the garage door...i felt like C-3PO wait'n to enter Jabba’s lair

secondly...the son (legally 20 fer those wonder'n) was like a mini version 

of Johnny Depp from the "21 JUMP STREET" days...all tattooed up in the correct places...black baggy pants with a match'n black shirt with the top button slightly open...just enough to expose the beginn'n of "someone's" imaginational thoughts

though we had some things in common...while i was wear'n safety pins 

in the 80's to look cool...he was wear'n 'em to stay dry...i was here to see his dad...not be his "daddy" nonetheless i was guess'n the apple fell off a good tree so i wasn't gonna push the panic button yet...maybe it was worth the drive after all and he was super polite too (somethin' i can freely admit...i am not at times) he leads me to the top floor of the town home where it reeked of burbanite city

you know...that smell of Costco overstock pre-packaged crap to eat...

Wickes furniture...Chuck Norris gym equipment that never was used and burnt out glade plug in's...still plugged in...though i reminded myself...not everyone can have a flair fer design this was just a date so i bit my tongue and saved my judgemental judyness comments...fer now!

i tried to push the eject button on the date but i couldn't escape the son's 

gravitational pull...he was cook'n some ramen noodleness (while undress'n me with his eyes) and since he had "GLEE" on in the kitchen we chatted about that and how cool that they had a musical tv series and he couldn’t stop admire'n and gush'n about my attire i had on (HELLO!...have you seen me?) i couldn't either if i wasn't already me(ummm...insert laugh here) i totally felt like i was a passenger aboard the can-it-get-any-better-than-this airlines

thirdly...but then it happened...*mayday*mayday*mayday*...you may now 

use your seat as a flotation device...we are experience'n a major malfucktion...i no longer felt like C-3PO but more like Princess Leia shackled to Jabba’s throne!! my date...WALKED IN!!

fourthly...we'll go with 38 first...while i was actually 38 in 2008...he was 

38 in like 1968! well ok...maybe that's a bit of a stretch and possibly a lil shallow (we ALL do it on 1st dates finger pointers so put 'em away) let's just say use'n Milton Burle mud masks on a weekly basis since you were what? like 12...not sooo good! (i just want you to close yer eyes and visualize kittens)

ok...so maybe he wasn't lie'n about being compared to a cast member of 

"GLEE"...i just wasn't picture'n the lezbitronic football coach in my fantasy date and believe me when i say...i'm being kind here

he looked more like Miss Jane Hathaway...who'd been bitch slapped by

a coke habit fer the better part of the 90's in bad 80’s low ride'n acid wash jeans...a crappy 70's football jersey made for the jolly green giant and still uses the same  plastic hair bag with punch holes to pull yer hair thru by nice'n'easy to give yerself that unsuspect'n high lite job (the only good thing i can say about his appearance is that i'm glad he recycles!) plus he had marinated himself in enough paco raban that could choke a hippopotamus...however i figured...since i was already there i might as well just suffer thru one movie

so we went with KALIFORNIA with Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis...why not!

at least i could look at somethin’ hot...since i forgot my compact in the car...HA!

feel free to take a breathier at this point...make yerself a cocktail...then 

strap yourself in for the second half of my anniversary next week...now GET OFF MY DRESS!