GAME OVER!

have you?...wait i mean...would you?...no wait!...could you ever watch

the remake of PYSCHO and not say to yerself...

WHAT THE FUCK is with this pile of refried shit on bisexual bread all about anyways?

i mean...i totally get the whole try'na come'n up with an interest'n plot to be

in the runn'n fer a hollyweird oscar that will try and captivate the audience fer more than 30 seconds before they try to discretely log into their pornhub account with their earplugs in to watch the latest ball bust'n dick flick while they try and shove their science project sausage thru the bottom of the popcorn bucket so their date can jack them off...seriously though...let's face it...even that role plays been over played...

nothin's original anymore!

so we all remember that twisted time back in 2017 when i acquired my 

very 1st official stalker as thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...on whatever app i was on at the time...and oh what a proud day THAT was...

i knew i had FINALLY made it after all as someone's personal life alter'n love slave...that fortunately i had quickly defused before i would end up as some sordid lifetime movie of the week...

played by the age'n beautifully...Meridith Baxter Birney!

so there i was on break from paint'n the shutters on my neice's and my

fav-o-rit dream home...at some meth riddled under priviledged park in Oakdale, MN...when i decided to log online and chatter away with some of the locals in the area to get a recipe fer somethin' that would freeze beautifully fer the church's annual anti social social gather'n that weekend

 BUTT unfortunately...

to be quiet honest...my batt'n average was batt'n below average hits from 

anyone within a 10 trailer radius that actaully owned a full set of choppers that didn't cook anything besides blue ice...ya know what i mean?

then all of a sudden...a not so white knight popped up on my screen

so i thought i'd indulge in a lil friendly convo...why not!...he owned all his own teeth after all

break would end and soon enough it was time to get back to Pablo 

Picasso'n the shutters on my neices trailer...a mere 4 hours later and 3 back tranquilizers...cuz i was walk'n like a himaylan shot putter...i was wrapp'n up my day and headed back to my shit box in the Minne-Apple when i recieved a message from my potential freezes beautifully anti-social socializer

by the time i had returned home that even'n...i stripped outta my striped

culottes...lathered my face with a generous supply of St Ive's mint julip mud mask to help rejuvenate my soft yet supple skin and continued on with a mini marathon of season 2 from my new fav-o-rit drug on Netflix before count'n sheep that even'n

by morn'n it was time to rinse and repeat it all over again in Oakdale...

Toulouse Letrec’n my A-double snakes under the hot midwestern sun...dressed like a tusken raider from Tucsan as not to sizzle my creamy white flesh cuz i just can’t afford the age spots

night fall would eventually come...since i wasn't...so i decided to log online

while watch'n another mini marathon of DEAD TO ME and check my mail...turns out GAMEOVER had left me a mini message...awwww...wasn’t that “Nice”?

at that very moment i had just cracked open my fortune cookie that read somethin' like "he with little response...is just as little as every where else" & unfortunately he wasn't quite finished feed'n me with his setiment... 

hmmm...

did i miss somethin?

at first i was like...well...maybe he's just try'na psyche me out or somethin' cuz i can take it as much as i can give it at times...then outta no where...

i didn't know whether to fry him up a back hand sammich or...

consult my balls fer answers?

 all i knew was...AVA MAX would be the theme to our now unfortunate anthem i would only remember him by

normally at this point i'da just called out the spirits and block his sorry

dilapidated ass...but i seriously had no clue where his birage of bullshit came from...plus i wanted that "freezes beautifully" recipe...i thought...you know what...this could'a been THE ONE that maybe someday we would buy a trailer park of our very own 

and adopted a few miniature mongolian warthogs of our very own 
(well cuz i had my tubes tied since i was unable to bare any of my very own)

needless to say...after smooth'n out the corns on my very petite feet and

remove'n my soul...along with my mud mask...i slipped into my Holly Hobby even'n gown...pulled the curlers outta my basement bush and figered this GAME was truly OVER before it ever had a chance to begin...eh...i'll survive...now GET OFF MY DRESS!

can i STALK to you fer a minute?

ever get that not so fresh feel'n...like yer being watched?

and i don't mean that in a Linda Lovelace sorta ways kittens...well not today anyways!

so you know how much i'm into gangsta rap MADONNA right?

well...this has nothing to do with the follow'n events...i just figered...in case ya don't already have yers...there's very few tix left fer her MADAME X tour so gett'em while supplies last

MADONNA...if yer read'n this...i want you to know...i'm borderline...

i feel like i'm goin to loose my mind!...look...now you got me gett'n all flaklempt! talk amongst yerselves...i'll give you a topic....MADONNA is neither a virgin or from Virginia...discuss!

so there i was a couple years back...chatter'n amongst the lost lonely souls along the informational highway look'n fer fornicational pleasures at the easiest and apparently the most polluted and diluted...i mean the most "popular" informational highway rest stop out there...GRINDR...strictly 

as a sexually charged starved observationalist of course

well truth be told...i actually loathe non verbal communication completely...

about as much as i loathe sushi...Belushi...phoney's and flakes...and definitely anything deep fried on a stake...the socially retarded...the chemically dependents...and what is up with all these emotionally delayed defendants?

i think Miss Macgregor's nipples said it best when they sang...

"torn between two lovers...feel'n like a fool...lov'n both of you...is break'n all the ruuuuules!"

bein' the unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe that i am...i seriously don't have time to be bothered with

play'n the proverbial text game of cat and mouse...i mean come on...i'm a pseudo sorta somewhat star of my own universe (in my head) after all...i don't have to put up with that shit!

so unless i'm totally engaged in a deep conversation of yer boredom...i just throw my contact number out there like candy to the depraved non heterosexual kittens with a pulse...and hope to get a call back from time to time

when ya think about it really though...text'n is sooo very very impersonal...

it was much more romantic when our indian mo's used to send smoke signals...granted you never knew back then if it was fer a hook-up...or they just needed a bucket of water cuz their tee-pee was on fire...but just like smoke signals...9.5 times outta 10 (& trust me...that .5 helps every time)...they rarely ever call back anyways...cuz aggressively passiveness is sooo much more attractive...don'tcha think?

well on the occasion that the one half that actually does decide to do voice on voice connection...i do my best to try and weed out their intentions within the first 5 to 15 minutes...and make my call if it's gonna end up bein' a terrific nite on the town...or just a tea bag party after the sun goes down

and if the latter is the case...i do my stretches and make sure to lay out an assortment of spermicidal jams and jellies...i am a safety gurl after all

one even'n while i was pump'n my muscles...plural here...(don't get twisted)...i received a text from an out of my area code unknown number

short story a lil longer than needed...yer name ain't in my cellular device?...you either lost my interest...or didn't bring me any canned goods!...such was the case i guess with said texted man...but i'm all about give'n it up to charity...when a quota is needed...so i said to him...send me a pic to remind me why i didn't wanna be bothered to log you in my phone in the first place...cuz now maybe i do...one never knows right?

minutes later...i received a text look'n like the guy work'n out next to me...

at first i thought..S-C-O-R-E...well he was the conductor of my grrrrravy train after all!

but as i looked closer to the picture...it was my back stand'n next to him?

hmmm?...now this text was turn'n more into like...the call is come'n from inside the house!

i immediately put down the dumbbells and pulled up my leg warmers...and skedaddled the H-E-double hockey stix outta there...as i was head'n out... 

a not so close friend that i only here from when they need grocery runs...called and i was tell'n her about this freak who took a pic of me work'n out...and not that that was so unusual...but it was more the manner that the pic was take'n...it was take'n thru the window of the gym...a couple hundred feet from where i was work'n out

now i know what it feels like to be MADONNA...well...minus the gazillion dollars in my piggy bank...some hot bilingual cunniligual to read bed time stories to...and a posse of A double snake kissers every where i go to do

 my bidd'n...but at least we now have a common thread to talk about over beluga caviar...carrot strips and a splash of kabbalah on the side...if the situation should ever happen that we meet...again!

fer i have FINALLY made it after all...my 1st OFFICIAL STALKER!

by the time i had made it home...i started gett'n dinner ready and noticed another text from him...but decided that this cat and mouse game had gone on long enough...so i deleted it without even read'n it...then another text had come thru...this time with a pic that looked awfully familiar to me

well...CUZ IT WAS ME LEAVE'N THE GYM!

seriously kittens...this was now gett'n a lil to "i will not be ignored!"

and i was definitely in no mood fer Peter Cottontail soup this particular even'n!

3 hours later...as i was od'n on sex and the city...since i wasn't have'n

any myself...a call came thru with no name...but i was so strung out like some junkie whore on the series...that i picked it up without think'n...and after i murmured out "shellom"...the caller immediately states we met a while back...and wanted to "hang out"...so i said sure come on over (without think'n it thru)...but only to swap stories...not spit...cuz i was gett'n ready to count sheep

30 mins later...a text popped up say'n he was here...so i threw on my smurf jammies (why not!) and headed fer the back door...but as i reached the top of the steps...i could see some guy peer'n thru the back door

immediately i knew this was no one that i had ever met or tip toed thru the tulips with before...

and though he was sorta Colin Farrellishy look'n...

 in a Charles Nelson Reilly sorta way...i had zero clue who he was and was in no mood to play 20 questions...so i opened the back door and asked him who he was...& turns out...

 HE WAS MY STALKER!

as he paced back and forth in the park'n lot try'n to get me to let him inside...i wondered....hmmm?....how did he ever find me?...then i thought wait!...i'm thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own damn universe...i don't have to put up with this shit!

then i noticed he had a back pack...so i let him talk...cuz i wasn't wear'n my kevlar protective jammies this one particular even'n

he pretty much rambled on...hop scotch'n from random story to random story...how 95% of non heterosexuals lie on line about themselves (can't argue with him there unfortunately)...how i was good look'n (again...good point!) but that i look like i'm pretentious (hey hold up a minute there!) then he went off the deep end about if he ever had kids and the stove was on how he would let them touch it and they would learn their lesson and how no one ever wants to hang out with him...and how he has an IQ of 110...

AND...time to go P-S-Y-C-H-O! 

i told him it's been lovely meet'n him and thanked him fer play'n...he went home with some beautiful part'n gifts...like a phone number to a "friend" of mine work'n inside the home of the the koo-koo clucks and some turtle wax i had left over from my price is right winn'ns...and made my way back

inside...i racked my brain over and over how he found me as i applied my St Ives mint julip mud mask...turns out a friend i had called after i scurried back inside huff'n n puff'n...said that any picture's that i may have take'n in my own lil shit box i call home and sent out to the universe...can easily be tracked by GPS from my phone

DOH!

i knew upgrade'n my dino flip phone to a smart phone was gonna be the death of me...my dumb ass would never figer out all the tricks and triggers and chaos's it could cause...it's a trilogy of terror i could do without!

3 days later...i received a call from yet another unknown number...and like an idiot think'n it could be a call from Ed McMahon tell'n me i had won the publishers clear'n house bullshit...(before i realized he's dead) i picked up!

the caller wanted to know what my name was...i said "WHY?"...he said...
 "cuz i wanna know who i'm look'n at!"

well it has been 3 years since my stalker left me...but i know he's out there...watch'n...wait'n...want'n more...of me...well...why the hell not?

but i'm in no mood to have'ta get another number fer fuck's sakes...i can barely remember my ABC's...let alone my STD's...so until we meet again...and i'm sure we will...

GET OFF MY DRESS!