own pleasure now that it's in full swing...may i suggest find'n a crowded family function or packed shit fer brains hole in the wall sports bar where everyone's IQ in the room combined is the same as the alcohol content in just one can of schlitz malt liquor on game day and ask the remote control king/queen or brain dead waiter/waitress that there's a GOLDEN GIRLS marathon on and they'll get a $5 bonus tip fer a quick channel change at the bottom of the 9th durin' the 4th quarter
as everyone's fav-o-rit dribbler scores a home run with the puck in the pool...their reaction will be priceless...trust me...however if yer not feel'n that brazen...then click here fer pt. 1 and click here fer pt. 2 to catch up to the excrutiate'n conclusion
so there i was one sunday afternoon at my neighborhood coffee shop...
read'n over pages of regurgitated crap about the football fans (the VIKES in particular) try'na inform the social media disdain fer the game that if they didn't like the outcome of the game then they outta put down the fuck'n pickled pringles and PBR and sign up to play at the next try-outs...finish'n up my latest blog while flipp'n thru annoy'n requests on desperadoville...or a4a...which after 3 years of bein' "sucked" into it (pun intended) i simply referred to it as assholes4assholes now
i responded to a simple request by some 20 somethin' tattoo'd potential
failure to "hang out" (but who in the world does he think i am...besides thee unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe) everyone knows that's just hookerville code fer "rock out with yer cock out"
i had nothin' better to do...so i emailed him my digits and finished up my
over priced non dairy...dairy...mocha frappichino latte chi tea...i mean my plum red bull and headed fer home
a few hours later...after OD'n on rerun's of the hysterically fab-u-less after
school special knock-offs of "STRANGERS WITH CANDY" an unsuitable friend called pretty much plead'n to get pollinated by yers cruelly...listen here...i haven't resided in desperadoville since the disfucktional era of the 90's when i started work'n at the 90's and though repeat performances have happened from time to time...i'm more into one-of-a-kind treasures these days
so...as the unmemorable caller tried desperately to remind me who they
were...i picked the phone back up after 2 minutes and noticed a text had come thru though no name was attached...hmmm...who's this? a new pearl at the bottom of my electronical ocean of regrets
i politely interrupted the caller...who now just seemed like a rusted coin
in the back alley of some dead end street that i had no interest in pick'n up and told them i would donate 10% of my feelings to his skank account
as i played the ping pong text game of who's this?...i realized it was the 20
somethin' from earlier in the day finally gett'n back to me in an untimely manner but why should i be surprised...most 20 somethin's these days have zero clue what a manner is unless it comes in a downloadable app
we made plans to "hang out" as it were...in an hour...when i was done
file'n my feelin's in the "why not!" drawer and he was done look'n fer the next best thing that was within 15 feet from his reach
a week would go by and while i was enjoy'n bloody's with a stalker of mine
followed by an even fabular dinner while watch'n "KINKY BOOTS" at her palace when all of a sudden the generational gap texted me outta the blue and wanted to "hang out"
after inform'n the above acquaintance of him...they said to invite him over
to join in some robotic pleasantries...however i was in no mood to play a round of "patty cake patty fake" with my new counter help reject from blockbusters so after finish'n dinner and the movie i skedaddled back to my tiny underworld palace fer some pre-fornicational 4 square though once i retreated to my bed this generation was ready to count sheep so off to dreamland it was fer me
by morn'n he had opened the flood gates of his entire life...about how he
got his drug and alcoholic acrobatic act in tact...that he met me as 80's Boy George on halloween nite a year prior...
BUTT (and you know there always is one dont'cha kittens)
that we had actually met A YEAR EARLIER! at 1st i was like WHAT? then it felt like i was taken a shower at the bates motel!
hmmm...a year earlier?...i don't recall ANY 20 somethin's catch'n my
interest accept fer a date i reported on when i began this ramblin'n eyesore of a story about anything and everything when i first created this blog...he said..."you know my dad!" i paused fer a second...then i thought...WTF????
no matter how many times you call may feel compelled to wanna call me "daddy" I AM NOT YER FATHER!
**ABORT**ABORT**ABORT**
another 10 years would pass and there i was once again recently lay'n
back in my boudoir chatt'n amongst the sea of desperado's online vy'n fer my "attention" in the middle of the nite after wake'n up from one of my multiple narcoleptic fantasies and guess who just happened to hit me up? hmmmm...well let's just say...it wasn't irish throat plunger Colin Farrell...
however...after a week of electronical ping pong banter...i decided since i have the power that it was time to finally sink this tenacious titanic lunchbox of hormones once and fer all with the full power of the block button...
this saga has F-I-N-A-L-L-Y come to an end...now GET OFF MY DRESS!
