THE WAY WE WERE

picture it kittens...the year was 1973 and K-K-K-K-ATIE MOROSKY who

was played by that semi operatic anti war protestor BARBARA STREISAND fall'n in love with this uppity waspy classmate of hers that had his sites set on hollyweird named HUBBEL played by the righteous ROBERT REDFORD who could barely remember "THE WAY WE WERE" by film's end

CARLY SIMON topped the charts by bottom'n out all those egotistical narcissist's everywhere with her backhand sammich hit "YOU'RE SO VAIN"

and WALTER CRONKITE delivered the devastate'n news to all right wing maniacal anti abortionists everywhere

BUTT let's move on if you can...

fast forward to 42 years later (8 years back) and i found myself relive'n 

key elements of that time in space from 1973 (thanx to a FB memories reminder) see...i've been in the biz of show off and on fer the better part of 25+ years now and lemme tell you...things can get petty ugly at the drop of a dildo

with PRIDE month finally cumm'n to a close...i found myself reminisce'n 

of the last time when i participated in PRIDE...it felt as if i was right in the middle of a bad episode about some petty and bilious reality show once the claws came out durin' one pitiful PRIDE event after some piteous pigeon toed piranha tried pour'n a glass of pinot misery on my parade

so puff on yer virgina slims while slurp'n on a delicate glass of 2 buck chuck and enjoy this trip down memory lame

many many moons ago my sensationally savvy CEO and simply sublime

VP of my fan club had inquired about throw'n a new bash atop a certain downtown rooftop eatery fer PRIDE weekend in the Minne-Apple to try and wake up plus shake up this tired city...

with a taste of glorification and grandeur that this town had been so desperately lack'n fer (let's be honest) years sadly

we were toss'n up idea's as to who could pack the punchline in the lunch 

 line dur'in the annual non heterosexual parade...someone who was in yer face like date rape mace...someone quick with the whip that's still pretty hip...someone clever and funny so we opted fer LADY BUNNY

of course what roof top party would be completely complete without a lil

sprinkle'n of just a few savory eyesores eye candy butt models from Andrew Christian give'n away free underwear (and maybe even a few std's if yer lucky enough to get their number)

and then suddenly it was as if a tantrum tornado started to whip up from the west!

well...deposits were paid fer BUNNY and the boys at this unnamed eatery

nonetheless leave it to some self-centered bloated pig in wig to toss a pissy hissy!

trust me...she ain't worth mention'n (though i've worked with her before) even if she may be artistically inclined with floral arrangements by drown'n 'em in glitter and glow lites dur'in the holidays...

 she's nothin' but a maniacal merlot bore...nothing more and then i started hear'n rumors around town that she professed how she was the "MADONNA" of the Minne-Apple and that she made boat loads of benjamins every year at her brunch salad bar while she would have one of her many epic merlot meltdowns though she was extremely elated when she heard that some "huge corporation" wanted to sponsor her sad soiree...

here's the deal-o unfortunately (i hate to be the bearer of bad news) the "HUGE CORPORATION" she was referr'n to was the CEO and VP of MY fan club...and truth be told...this annual event had been loose'n money year after year which was in dire need of a defibrillator with a new name and a new cast that could bring it back to life and bring in the big bucks...however...the owner did not see eye to eye with my fan club members...

 cuz even though he lost money year after year...he felt some loyalty to this self-involved eye sore...nonetheless said we could still do the party as planned as long as they forked over a bundle to cover his loses from the past 3 years before we would see a profit

 so my VP pulled the plug on the whole damn show and skedaddled outta dodge...though CUNT WEEDS was goin around town tell'n those who wished they could rearrange their DNA in the form of Helen Keller...that she had stolen the party out from under us...

 Alex...i'd like to take "delightfully delusional" fer $1000 pleez?

 though i was a bit disappointed...i was in no way expect'n the board of my fan club to cover someone else's mistakes...so i tucked in my tail and moved on as well

that is...until i recently read an article written by some snoreville ink slinger

who worked at some local mag rag mention'n how said CUNT had done floral arrangements fer the QUEEN's birthday bash

 and helped in the redecoration of Prince's throw pillows at Paisley Park in the 90's

 Miss "my name's on the marquee" drops as many names as fast as she drops her glass of wine and in the 15 some years that i've known this self diluted drunk...not ONCE was the QUEEN ever mentioned...

so i put on my Angela Lansbury cap and did a lil investigate'n...
only to find out that she was fired from the Paisley Park staff after a day fer bad mouth'n her boss and steal'n material from the purple paisley man himself...

 so there was no need to delve into this rubbish any further though my ghost writer (IVANA P) decided to write a retort to said fabricational story in some shitty monthly rag said "reporter" worked at to set the record straight once and fer all:

"seriously?...there's more holes in that story than a slice of swiss cheese 

and Bonnie & Clyde put together...this is just a poorly written episode of PR FLUF~N~STUFF!

if you REALLY want an exclusive...lemme tell you about the time me and 

Madonna decided to get away fer the weekend by hopp'n aboard the Starship Enterprise to the planet Uranus...

and had tiki cocktails and kiki dances with the likes of Cher and Ruth Bader Ginsburg"

now i won't give away this "reporter's" identity...cuz really...her legacy

and "integrity" is at stake apparently...H-O-W-E-V-E-R...fer visual purposes to this hard hitt'n story thru journalistic fantasy land...lets just call her "PELICAN"

this is the actual transcript between me and said "reporter"...

 via FB due to my simple freedom of speech

08/06/2015 15:26 

"just so you know, I'm deleting your rude comment."

08/06/2015 15:58

"just so you know...it's all PR fluff"

08/06/2015 15:58

 "Well, I wrote the article so I take offense to you publicly questioning my integrity. Please don't. If you have and issue with Richard (CUNT WEEDS), please send him a private message."

08/06/2015 16:01

"delete'n my comment is as humorous as that fairy tale yer try'n to sell to yer readers"

 

08/06/2015 16:36

"You can keep your rudeness to yourself."

08/06/2015 16:41

"you call it rudeness...i call it a comment to yer delusionally fabricated story"

"but i'm not the one try'n to win the Brian Williams reporter of the year award!"

and scene!

so there you have it kittens...the real story how it ALL really went down

all them years ago!

i look back and know that i have grown from this experience...however...

you fuck with a virgo bull...yer just ask'n fer my glittered horns!

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

THE STRANGEST THINGS

37 years and a mule ago after british babe CATHERINE BUSH dropped 

her hit single "RUNNING UP THAT HILL" fer the gen X'ers of the Mtv generation in 1985 where it only peaked at #30 on the billbore'n charts...an unexpected resurrection has occurred make'n KATE's bush beat the current competition of crap out there by turn'n her hit into the shit once again...race'n back up the charts this time to #1 in the UK and Australia and #5 in the US...owe'n much gratitude to her new found popularity from the whiney "wokers" with a weak backbone i mean non verbal social media clubbers of the gen Z'ers 

and Winona Ryder fans...like myself

thanx to the 4th installment of some lil upside down show...

and a feisty lil red head jammin' to her hit on her casio walkman!

so there i was one afternoon o.d'n on the tik taky's and insta hater reels

each one try'na out do the next with the oddest 15 second video overlay'n it with MISS BUSH's beats and it made me stop and think of the strangest things i've encountered in my very own upside-down existence like the time i stopped down one sunday funday years back to some over priced eatery in downtown Minne-Apple with a group of gaggers fer some shots of jaggers and nibbly's

i was warned by one sassy stalker in my group that they don't allow hats 

to be worn inside their establishment...however i'm here to tell you that this throat plunger don't play that game and simply explained to the halitosis hostess who reiterated and hated on my head piece that was keep'n my follicley challenged farm from the blister'n heat "that's fine but do you tell ALL cancer patients to remove their wigs?" to which she politely replied "hold on...let me ask my manager"

my groupies stood their in complete disbelief and couldn't believe that i 

thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe just told the simply dressed under paid door monitor that i had cancer...i immediately snapped back "i said no such thing Mary...on the contrary...i simply implied would she tell cancer patients to do the same? if she wants to interpret that as me have'n some incurable disease...well...whos' really to blame? me fer simply ask'n a simple question or her inability to enforce some racist profile'n bullshit?" a minute later we were shuffled inside single file and all was right in the world once again 

we ended up bein' seated at a big round booth in the back next to the  

kitchen...directly across from the Real Housewives of Raytown emergency blue rinse bingo luncheon as i 'm sure not to cause any sorta Jerry Springer smack-down with the barely there audience that exhaust'n afternoon over my deliciously dastardly hat deception...however i didn't care...we were seated and served like any other normal thirsty mongrel with a full purse of benjamins to blow as we continued on with our blissful unabashed banter...that is until i over heard some diabetic Iola Boylan bunion model at the table next to us ask the waitress "why is that young gentleman wearing a hat in here?" to which the waitress replied with a smile "he's got cancer!"

BUTT wait...there's more

the next strangest thing that i have ever had the last'n displeasure of bein 

engrained into my memory banks was bein offered to invest in what i was told was a very niche' market the very first time i was officially date'n my X steroidal Heman in my 30's while i was in between jobs of look'n and blow'n...somehow the topic got onto underwear...specifically his...more specifically...well lemme make this "brief"

with the downward spiral durin' the age of the dot coms in the early 2000's

my steroidal steak and eggs X i called Heman (button yer lip...that's was the last and only time i have ever used a lame ass nickname) anywho'zll'ding...he told me about these muscle worshippers online from around the globe who would pay him handsomely if they could use his undergarments as a surgical mask and even more so if he would "decorate it" with his dinner

now listen...everyone had there kinks and fetishes and if yer legally over 

the age of 18 and it's totally consensual...i say FUCK IT! just go fer it...regardless what others may think of the kink or of you...with that said...i just gotta say...who in their ever luv'n santa claus fuck'n mind would ever spend money from nana's change purse to bid on a pair of bean burrito basted bvd's from some buffed puff in Boise... 

while they mastered their own universe with a bidd'n war online? 

then of course there's that pend'n case recently where some maxi padder 

alleges that in 2017 in a 2014 hyundai genesis nonetheless that she contracted a STD from her DILF and expects the insurance company to hand her a cool 5mill fer her troubles...ummm if she actually gets this payday someday then i want a retroactive payout fer my experience in 1992 where some Dirk dickslinger who wrangled me into the back seat of his 1987 busted out brown bronco after a difficult nite at the park doin things that would frighten fish and 3 days later i ended up have'n to shave my muffin down to the roots cuz apparently he gave me his family of crotch crickets who started perform'n a damn Wringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey act out on my nether regions

lastly is the advice i was give'n by many in regards to my humbled abode

plans fer my retirement home...now my head (which was never an issue with anyone from what i've been told) has always been forever romantisize'n about a 2 bedroom 2 bathroom tin canned tornado terror in the middle of nowhere thanx to my very 1st ever crush Joe Brabbit from the 6th grade who invited me to a sleep over at his dad's trailer one weekend

we constructed a gigantor fan fort...cuddled inside our sleeping bags (yes it was plural pervies) play'n donkey kong on the miniature arcade machine i got from our old neighbors the Cudahy's fer an xmas prez til the wee hours of the morn'n...sipp'n on shasta's while dream'n of play'n with his donkey dong (hey my hormones were start'n to blossom) 

then all of a sudden i heard "YOU CAN'T HURRY LOVE" by Phil Collins play'n on his Mtv 

so i DIANA ROSS'd my ass back to reality real quick like!

nonetheless i've always found it strange when someone in the realty world

needs a reality check from me when they try and convince me of the unbenefits from own'n a trailer...like the simplest fact that when mother nature decides to toss a fit...ummm REALLY? cuz i believe Dorothy lived in a modest 3 bedroom bungalow on her aunt and uncle's farm so yer skate'n on thin ice with that argument 

then they try to convince me that the resale will be a waste of time as i will 

not recoup ANY investments i may have poured into it and try to convince me a condo might be more of a sound investment for me (here we are again) ummm  REALLY? cuz if i plan on this bein' my last rest'n place to enjoy my "MURDER SHE WROTE" marathons while sipp'n my metamucil martini's and enjoy'n a creamy caramely worthless originals from time to time then why in the fiddler's fuck would i want a 30 year mortgage that the bank will most likely repossess before i kick the can?

or is it because you just wanna win a round of tic tac dough so you can enjoy yer yer tacky tiki drinks in Taiwan with yer con-vince'n?

everyone paves their own path in this life and i let them live it the way 

that they wanna live without turn'n into some judgmental judy however i like my organs in my body to give two shits about chromed brushed appliances with a bird's eye view of downtown hookers and heroin addicts so in close'n...you eat yer carrots yer way and i'll eat them mine!

and cuz i'm not gonna stay complicit and silent on reproductive issues

fer anyone even though they may have no physical bear'n on my supple and plump behind personally…

FUCK THESE EGREGIOUSLY HYPOCRITICAL REGURGITATED PURITYRANICAL CASPER BASTURDS and their DIABOLICALLY MONSTROUS SMUG OBSERDITY and ANY of those who do believe their rule'n was on point...you are 100% complicit with RAPE...INCEST...MEDICAL WELL BEING OF THE BIRTHING PORTAL and want a GILEAD nation…P-E-R-I-O-D!

bann'n the constitutional rights of uterine walls that they've fought for fer almost 50 years is beyond absofuckinlutely insane just fer the simple fact that all these callous CASPER crusaders talk'n out of their blown-out anal entrances vomit'n that it's "murder"  are so full of sanctimonious shit that

if you smacked any of them...they'd simply fuck'n splatter all over their biblical blouse of bullshit cuz once the lil puke buckets are born and the unbiblical chord is cut they will soon be abandoned and fergotten like Amber Heard's career...then all of these ass scratch'n puritanical pabst blue ballers and twisted subservient twats who had the frontal lobes of their brain removed by their own knitt'n needles will whine relentlessly about these pink eye paraders live'n off the system instead of putt'n any sorta energy and resources into fund'n enough aid fer those unfortunate unwanted tater tots especially if they're bequeathed with special needs and other inept disabilities at birth...or any sorta safety net fer single maxi-padders and poor families that are just try'na make the bare minimum to survive 

or safe foster care/adoption so the lil inch worm rodeo wranglers don't have to take their school field trips to the red door clinic and get antibiotics fer a lunch snack and wash them down with their tutti fruity juice box...

overturn'n ROE vs WADE had absofuckinlutely nothing to do about bein' pro-life at all with these tiresome tyrannosaurus zealots...it's just fuck'n hypocrisy to save their seething self-righteous soul at it's core!

now GET OFF MY DRESS!