KARMA KOMES a KALL'N

like Mr. JAGGER sang "YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT"

and i'm afraid this week would be one of those times that you just won't...so part 2 of the eagerly anticipated ONE fer THE RECORD BOOK will not be aired this week in order to bring you...

enjoy this weeks late break'n last minute news story!

picture it kittens...it's 1983 and every granny...nanny and tranny's fanny

around the planet were shake'n their shenanigans anyway possible to the red...gold and green sounds of the biggest hypnotic bopper of the year "KARMA CHAMELEON" by the british new romantics CULTURE CLUB that still resonates with old and new fans to this very day

KAREN CARPENTER was finally on "TOP OF THE WORLD" though unfortunately not from another hit but cuz she passed away from complications to an eat'n disorder she was suffer'n through

6 years later in 1989 while jogg'n thru Central Park...a Trisha Meili was 

viciously attacked and raped around 9pm on the even'n of april 19th and the fingers all pointed to teenragers ANTRON MCCRAY...KEVIN RICHARDSON...YUSEF SALAAM RAYMOND SANTANA and KOREY WISE dubbed as the CENTRAL PARK 5 by the media and the world...who were not on top of the world nor were they red...gold or green skin toned

though it would take the biggest mentally deranged bloated basturd of 

them all who spent $85,000 of his daddy's benjamin's place'n a full page ad in the NY Times call'n fer a basic modern day lynch'n of the CENTRAL PARK 5 with the death penalty which unfortunately didn't help the CENTRAL PARK 5 at all to get a fair trial back then!

it would take up to 13 whole years to finally exonerate all 5 of the very

convicted men by 2002 after serial rapist Matias Reyes admitted to the brutal crime which was proven thru DNA test'n that he was the perpetrator and the EXONERATED 5 would win a much deserved settlement of $41 mill total from the city of NY fer steal'n their youth

BUTT finally....

27 years later E JEAN CARROL is on top of the world and sing'n the

praises of karmic retribution now that she had finally got her day in court after come'n forward about bein raped in a dress'n room at Bergdorf Goodman in NY in 1996 by our unfortunate mentally deranged twice impeached sack of deranged congealed anal puddin'...the 45th racist...misogynistic...predatorial...anal warted...con artist who degraded the white house and the nation fer 4 miserable years and was also handed 34 indictments recently in connection to falsify'n his biz records and wait'n on indictments from Georgia not to ferget about the classified documents he tried to hide at his overblown shithole in florida...so my only question is...

can we start a gofuckyerself campaign to put out a full front page ad in ALL the tabloid magazines at yer neighborhood grocery stores since that is his biggest brain dead target audience...

call'n fer his complete castration (i'm even against the death penalty fer his cottage cheezed ass unfortunately) though not cuz he might ever produce again (that wench of a wife already got her meal ticket w/Barron so she's suffered enough) no it's simply to deprive him of his anger management system

just a quik snip and throw away the key!

cuz A-N-Y-O-N-E at this point...besides the lobotomized kool-aid drink'n

 tin foiled cappers in red who've gone of the edge...that even considers him as a possible legitimate vote if he runs next year...after ALL you've witnessed while he ran...unfortunately won then luckily LOST...proves you yerself have followed those same brain dead fucktards off that exact same ledge and also just proves how much humanity and common decency is really worth to you in a leader and fer all of mankind...whether yer family...yer friends or some simple jane or john doe walk'n down the street try'na garner enough tiktok likes and shares with yer 15 to 20 seconds of "importance" to boost yer marginalized ego...that is all!

tune in next week fer part 2 of ONE fer THE RECORD BOOK...

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

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!

NOT SO PLASTIK?...FANTASTIK!

the very moment we take that slip and slide ride down the birth canal to be

greeted by all those annoyingly thunderous goo's and gushes in every nook and cranny from every granny Aiken's to the uncle Orlean's around the planet...we are told we're gett'n old and we as a society will go to whatever extremes to cling onto the past at any and all costs...regardless of the ramifications...unfortunately there is no magic wand nor fountains of youthful elixirs...

that will help turn back time...

to stop yer unfortunate age'n process rott'n corpse from become'n just a mere moment in someone's memory...

BUTT...there are options!

ever since i was a traumatized teenaged terror in a town full of total uptight

tit slinge'n fly trappers and pabst blue ribbon beer guzzle'n balance'n acts that frequented Roy's Little Nashville Bar kitty corner from the block i used to live on in some simple and small minded MN town...i made it my pre-unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe's life's mission not to tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen just to pour myself a cup of some damn ambition

though there have been many a queens thru-out the distance of time...

years before MADONNA would become the queen of the dance floor...

BOY was the queen of london...

and FREDDY was the QUEEN of  rock-n-roll...

however...the only queen i truly got to personally know on a one to one

weekly basis...the queen of all clays who was my go-to to give a backhand sammich to father time while clean'n out my pores in that under stated porcelain white tube topped off with her emerald green crown was QUEEN HELENE (however fuck that 33% more market'n scheme cuz it NEVER existed...it was just full of air)

of course this was mainly due to the barrage of magazine market'n and tv

jingles that traumatized our teenage insecurities since we were already the leader of our own personally destructive pity parade of our own personally awkward looks and then there was that one episode of Phil Donahue on skin cancer that didn't help matters

i can remember some years later when i was forced out on my very own 

and started out my career as a beauty school drop-out...my all time fav-o-rit teacher Anna Overland tell'n the class when it came to skin care to always moisturize...moisturize...moisturize then to switch up yer moisturizer every 3 months so yer skin would not get used to a routine much like a gym trainer would tell their client to switch up their work-outs every 3 months so their muscles won't plateau and i've pretty much stuck to that routine weekly fer the past 35+ years...though QUEEN HELENE and me have parted ways years ago thanx to technology

though i would be the worlds worst crack addict...just fer the simple fact  

that i hate needles...if i happen to notice parts of me crack'n as i climbed the ladder of life...i'd search out fer the latest and greatest affordable lotions to help keep father time from tap dance'n around me fer yet another year and fer the most part since i wasn't bake'n like bacon every summer since the 80's...eat'n a pretty clean lifestyle (outside of the occasional dirty throat plunger now and then) and work'n out off and on routinely...i've managed to fool the fools who thought i was a fool fer practice'n this lifestyle and now foolishly they wish they'd had practiced my foolery

however...don't confuse that with me degrade'n yer groom'n habits or choices in life...we ALL make them and we ALL must life by them...i'm not impressed if you think i'm not 50 or if you think i look 150 nor do i care if you think i've had any work done...i own it if i did..I AM in my 50+ check mark box of life now and still more fuck'n fabuless-than-the-goin-rate!

if yer insecurely comfortable use'n yer body as some experimental pin 

 cushion fer the latest botulistic jab putt'n yerself in debt just to make that perfect selfie that'll be ferever lost amongst the garbage piles of social media by next week...i say go fer it...we live in an alternate universe these days and anyways with the millions of downloadable beauty apps available at our finger prints we can all look like a fetus in a wig if we really want to...but don't wig out if you get called out in person...society has conditioned us to think that after the age of 20...florescent light'n IS NOT yer friend...after 30 back light'n IS NOT yer friend...after 40 overhead light'n IS NOT yer friend and once yer in yer golden age you outta just turn off the damn lights all together!

so one afternoon as i was hop scotch'n between all the diabetic paraders 

and fantastic sam hair disasters at some random eye sore mall while wait'n to get financially raped by yet another dipshitt'n dip stick’n mechanic...this adorably confused middle easternish Ariana fanniccino Grande thing stalk'n walkers outside some over priced skin care treatment enclosure try'n desperately to corral them inside had reluctantly put me under his spell by batt'n his butterfly lashes and give'n me a free sample of jack-off hand cream to get me inside to purchase some over priced delusional concoction to turn back time so of course i couldn't resist his ming ring and got all Dale Arden on his bubblicious A double snakes

now flattery at any age is always an ego booster fer anyone regardless

if you know they're lie'n thru their yellow stained meth teeth or not and trust me...he was spread'n it like a hooker would their legs fer a mink and a mansion and once inside his web of deception he pulled out a "new innovative cream" that says will help cure me of my crows feet...

ummmmm excuse...why Blanche...have you gone blind?

now even though my ego needs no booster seat....my ego also needs no 

crows feet kill'n cream since...well...i fortunately have no crow's feet to kill at the present time 

however when the times comes…i will deal with it how i see fit!

seriously...i mean i get the script is yer bread and butter at the moment

till you go home to yer parents basement to smoke a bowl and o.d. on a bag of stale jalapeño dorito's you found stuffed between yer couch cushions then check how many followers you got on yer latest tacky tiktok post and if Charli D'Amelio commented on it at all...but gurrrrrrrl PUHLEEZ...you think i'm SHOOK by suggest'n i need yer shitty over priced syrup sludge to smooth out my face?

i have not and DO NOT marinate in Ernest Borgnine beauty crème once a week fer the past 35 years to look this acceptable

when i finally find a crow leave'n their foot prints in my face i'll deal with it

not cuz society beats me down to put myself in financial ruin...think about it kittens...not everyone can age gracefully...some never get to age at all while some age with absolute grace while others are just full of demented DNA disgrace 

however...that's their choice to live with it so who am i to judge judy them

so with that in mind...GET OFF MY DRESS!