head hunters

anyone over the age of 40 knows exactly where they were the nite...

the castaways on some hollyweird back-lot were under siege by some diabetic headhunter...who was actually just the Skipper who hadda play 2 parts that nite cuz the AJC (Amazonian Jungle Committee) couldn't agree on proper coconut wages

ever since i was but just a young unintentionally internationally unknown

perform'n illusionist of my own universe...(insert awwww's here) i have A-L-W-A-Y-S been fascinated with give'n head...oh i'm sorry kittens...that's a typo...i meant gett'n some a head in life (but more falls to the latter these days...just a lil behind the beauty secrets to any future mistakes/headaches out there salivate'n in my stories) 

BUTT...

that's besides the point i'm try'na make on todays episode...the point is kittens...people have absolutely gone apeshit and lost their heads over Kathy Griffin's freedom of headless speech...

so i decided to toss on my Angela Landsbury fish'n cap and peruse thru all the bitches and the babble concern'n one Miss Griffin and the lil pickle she allegedly put herself into and came across this past-his-prime poster child for kaeopectate comebacks...and thought i'd join in on the conversation...the follow'n is based on actual events:

so after her comedic heart felt apology that was reposted on a FB pseudo friends page...(who shall remain anonymous to protect his utterly sick'n body from bein' molested by the throngs of hungry homo's and future fag hags out there...that would desperately wanna be his personal love slave)...this massengill milker had this to spout out...well...just cuz he does have the freedom of speech in this country...UNFORTUNATELY though...this is MY WORLD and you shall not remain anonymous and pull yer passive aggressive bullshit with me...KAPEESH?...(and really...i'm doin him a favor after all...cuz i looked over his FB page and i think he really needs more friends)

apparently he doesn't recall FOX NEWS FAUX SNOOZE...Roger Allies or Bill O'Reilly...so i thought i'd respond'n accordingly

i made it personal?...to whom?...so this testicular twat swatter decided to throw this in fer his back up ammunition...

well...of course you know it was time fer me to spray on my aqua net...SUPERIOR extra hold and open up a can of whoop ass on this cunt ruffle'n rectal rash

of course...Paul mr. fuckmuppet wasn't finished with me just yet...and like any true virgo...he of course wanted the last word

W-E-L-L...now this bucket of monkey jizz just made it personal...so as i was wait'n fer my nails to dry...i decided to fry up a back hand educational sammich fer him... 

i desperately waited fer a rebuttal...but apparently...mr. volcanic shitnozzle 2017 was putt'n on his 2nd coat of polish himself...so i decided to pull up my fishnets and end this thoughtless conversation that was goin absolutely no where...but my blog

but of course everyone's fav-o-rit diarectic dialoguer desperately hadda try and toss one more zigger...that pretty much fizzled out like diseased dick splash...make'n him look like a sad box of microwaved frogs

well...i knew at this point...this was a typical "str8" man's way of just try'n see what's under the hood...so i gave him a lil sneeky peeky...why not!

this was entertain'n and all and i wanted it to go on fer the next 15 minutes...but the cosmo was kick'n in...and i didn't wanna end up in FB jail...so i left him with a lil part'n gift

well...30 minutes had gone by without a peep from Paul...and i think we can all assume at this point kittens...

that his tuck got stuck!

of course leave it to the far righteous fucks to say "poor Barron"...but ya know...yer right...no child outta ever have to suffer the imagery of their parent in any sorta horrible situation

but...it seems to me this is tit fer tat territory! plus...just another reason fer our TWITTER bitch to try and deflect from the Russia investigation!

the ONLY real crime i can see that Kathy may have committed here was...

try'na save some benjamins by not use'n her make-up artist and hair stylist...kitten...without yer face beat to a pulp by Mac cosmetics and excellent light'n...ya just look'n like some sad ol' cow clit who just finished lick'n barbeque sauce of a bucket of briskets fer $7 and some ass gravy

i would say to Kathy...Kathleen Mary Griffin...milk it for what it's worth...this is yer HELL-O-WEEN year kitten...contact ALIBABA and have them package up a cheap blue bow tied blouse with a cheap red wig...a small plastic face with hay fer hair...(ask George Lucas if you can borrow Jabba the Hut's face fer a mold...same diff really) and a lil bottle of pigs blood...SHAZAAM!

(oh and donate 10% of the profits to my piggy bank since i'm give'n you this money make'n idea fer free)

now...if you wouldn't mind pleez...GET OFF MY DRESS!

reflections from a midlife crisis

like that song goes from the almighty of the almightiest CHER

i've been brought down to my knees

and i've been pushed way past the point of breaking

but i can take it...i'll be back again...back on my feet...this is far from over

you haven't seen the last of me

grow'n up in a dysfunctionally entertain'n family has always been a roller coaster ride of emotions...that...at times...you hadda jump off of fer yer own

 sanity...but once you've composed yerself and brushed off yer bruises...yer more than happy to hop back on fer another endless ride around the park...outside of those allowable allowances ..

i've been beaten and battered...and sometimes that mattered...i learnt how to rise...like a phoenix from the flames...with my flame still in tact...as a matter of fact

from the boardrooms to the bedrooms...i've had my share...most of it entertain'n...but most of it goin no where

with friendships that've left me with great impressions...there were those that turned into unfortunate deceptions

i've open'd my shitbox to those that are in need...but that don't mean i'm putt'n up with yer sexual greed

i've learned to take life's little punches...while to do my little crunches...dropp'n tears of sweet sweat...and sweat'n tears of sweet regret

there are those that've called me a sinner...well i never said i wanted to be a saint...but if you think my sinn'n is dreadful...a sin free saint you ain't

from those obsessed with my vampire skin...to those that don't  know they'll never win...i've never felt the need to get a bake...just to look like a dried ol' cake 

i must live by my choice...as you must live by yer voice...but don't think fer a minute...that it won't make me moist

yes i am older than i was...the day i was before...does't that mean that i'm old...or that you'll turn me into some old snore

the days have grown shorter...as the years have slipped away...i still have my hungry libido...but that don't mean that i'll ever have to pay

it might sound like i'm an unapologetic bitch...but sometimes you know i gotta call it like it is

you don't like what you hear?...well sorry fer you but that's just show biz

though i've come to the conclusion...basically fuck you and yer seclusion

jealousy and envy...are such a petty mess...so i'm only say'n this once...

again...

P-U-H-L-E-E-Z!...get off my dress!

rotten tomatoes

sometimes...when hollyweird folk decide to give new breath to classic movies fer the next generation...whether it's cuz technology wasn't there at the time or cuz they were forced to overdose on ritalin as a small child...

it's warranted...case in point is one of my all time fav freak fests from the 70's i seen as a small...but very important...pre pubescent unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe...the TEXAS CHAINSAW MASCARA...at the time it shocked the shit outta me and made me drop a meatloaf surprise in my garanimals...i thought to myself...i said self  "damn girrrl...layer on those layers for yer own protection"

by 2003...thee original seemed more like kiddie play...compared to when i took myself to see the twisted remake by Rob Zombie in a small theater fer the 10pm show'n out in the burbs (which...in itself...was fuck'n scary enough fer me)...with only 2 others in attendance that nite...sitt'n directly behind me...by the time it had ended...i hadda take that long ass walk...ALONE...under the midnite sky...to my car at the very far end of the park'n lot (cuz i was a moron that nite)...i literally hadda check the back seat of my car to make sure i was in their alone....S-E-R-I-O-U-S-L-Y!

BUTT...and yes there is always gonna be one kittens...

there are those flicks that should never be tampered with at all...for instance like the 1981 mythological masterpiece CLASH OF THE TITANS

sure it was jam packed full of bad edit'n and trumped up technology...but at the time...it was absolute awesomeness at it's finest and forced all us hot wheels hoodlums and strawberry shortcake sniffers who hopped on our huffy bikes and peddled our A double snakes as fast as we could to the 50 cent show'n at our local small town theater on a saturday afternoon...to believe...

that there really were snaky bitches and blind-sided witches out there...unfortunately...that we would have to contend with someday

but when they released a remake back in 2010...i barely made it past the 1st 15 minutes of misery with all it's technological vomitus over blown imagery...that i walked out and asked fer my benajamins back so i could find some discount dick at the nearest dime-store

when freaks finally felt that they to could feel loved after they fell in love with Johnny Depp as the freak with hands made outta kitchen cutlery...it was a magical delight fer all those pre-emo's...and pre-cummers

unfortunately...after the last 120 days (and count'n) who in their right state of mind (besides those brain dead beauty contestants & aerosol huffers from Wal-Mart...and sadly to report...some are actually members of my own fam/friend circle) would waste their hard earned stripper money to see this retell'n of a classic about some bloated cheeto puff who cuts his staff in half and can't count to 10 before he tweets his tantrums delusions of grandeur out about how he's been treated by the "fake news" or late nite comedians

action flicks with dicks were always a crowd pleaser and a teaser fer any tenderly supple teenage terror like myself...especially when the sequel makes plausible sense

however...i...along with 64% (and count'n thankfully) xeno/homophobes...who care about healthcare/medicare and the over all good of the nation...aren't sold on the idea of some Twitter bitch's intent on blow'n up his "facts" to make them seem "bigger" than he real is...along with our democracy and his waistline...even if his core audience still is gorge'n on his his bullshit after all this time...(makes ya cold cock em with a left hook...but you dare not...cuz you know they'd splatter)

it was tough enough to make it thru this chickless flick...for chicks...about 3 grown future hair plug recipients & prozac pimps try'na take care of a puke bucket with bladder control issues...all while juggle'n their careers and their cocks

seriously though...do they really need to waste a big budget on this treacherous trio try'n to control their over bear'n out of control glutton with the button who has the mind of a loud mouthed manipulative schizophrenic? 

this oscar winn'n story between 2 closeted cock wrangle'n sheep herders and their unbridled and very much unspoken man-love fer one another was as breath take'n as the scenery in itself...that tugged at every emotional string one might have...that is...unless yer plugged into a defibrillator to keep yer heart a pump'n

on the other hand though...i gotta tell ya...this one has the perfect twist of all the closeted intrigue and espionage we're all just die'n to see at the box office...between our Pricktator and Putin that will surely make millions...once Comey has his say!

so stop yer porn and pop yer corn...this ones gonna be good...oh yea...and get off my dress!

one fer the cheap seats in the back!

there are many many many methods of madness...

that thee elusively exclusive unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe single non heterosexual (known specifically as ME)...must endure when their non baby make'n machine begins to rattle the natives that are try'na escape the clutches of their confinement...to find that perfect void filler fer the nite...(only cuz i'm just too lazy to commit suicide)

or at the very least...fer the next 5 minutes until yer decide to treat yer AA bestie to HH...so you fire up yer shit mobile to take them out fer a nite on the town (well until HH ends at least) but they decide to trot their A double snakes down to you a mere 30 minutes past a monkeys ass...to plop their perky A double snakes down fer a nite of regret by morn'n...then beg you to be treat them to somethin' off the kids menu!

ummm...you may be a queen with no coins at the moment

but kitten...i'm a queen without a castle...so puhleez don't hassle!

i was recently reminded by a failed attempt at a miserable future with a potential pain in my plump A double snakes how they dumped me cuz they couldn't handle all the bright lites of my fabooshka at the time...cuz of 

their own future insecurities and self imposed exile they would have to succumb to themselves...i of course...had zero issues with said failure then and even now to this day...well accept...we've all changed considerably as time marches on

though it may seem a tad demean'n...it's the world we live in...

us single gentle "laydee's" and not so gentle"laydee's"...have been reduced to sell'n ourselves like a well worn out used car...with plush interior that makes us inferior...to the highest low life you can find on line...under subtle hastags that suit you best like... #polesmoker...#buttpirate...#salamismacker...#onemanssodomandgomorrah #ignorantincubus...#acheapwhore or #THROATPLUNGER...
just to get noticed these days

their is no more inter "action" anymore for the most part...it's just cheap...

enter"pain"ment to pass the time on line...it's like a Baskin Robbins of sexual frustration...many savory flavors to pick from...that YOU or THEY will just...most likely...take a taste test from...with colorful verbiage and pictures...but eventually end up pass'n 'em up just cuz ya don't feel like waste'n yer gas fer some supposed hot ass...plus...there's always a better flavor within walk'n distance that'll never show up anyways

in prehistoric times...caveman would dress up in their sunday best on a friday nite and head out to the local diner to share a brontosaurus burger and head home and pound it out til the stegosaurus's came home

 by the 1800's...it was all about the size of yer hat that really impressed yer slutty suitor

in the 1900's...it was best to wear match'n outfits in case you were caught chipp'n yer date's teeth by some treacherous non homosexual...cuz you could get away with say'n that you were just play'n doctor with yer twin brother...
(oh those tricky lil knob jockeys) 

once the 70's rolled around...you roller skated to the closest Donna Summer discotheque once the sun had set...while display'n the correct color coded hanky in yer back pocket in order to find that perfect fancy fruitcaker taker that you were in the mood for that even'n...or just fer a simply quick afternoon delight

in the decadent 80's...it was all about tight shorts and pricey escorts...

and though it was the rise of QUEEN M...

it was also unfortunately the rise of queens gett'n AIDS...which meant you had to rethink yer animalistic instincts and wrap yer willy in a rubber...porn cinema's were yer safest go to...to go to...to bust yer nut...

(well...A-L-M-O-S-T)
or you would be invited over to yer friends and have an old fashioned ball buster party in the storage space above their parents garage...spank'n it while flipp'n thru their dad's back issues of Beaver Hut magazine...as i was (no names mentioned) but secretly...you were just there fer the salami sword fights

though the 90's were dominated by ritual bathers grunge...

playtime consisted of  phone line fantasies...sidewalk sales and park'n lot predators...though i would turn down 99% of the participants (the margin of error of course is plus or minus 2-20)...only cuz i didn't need another reason to steal the crown away from Miss Penicillin that year...so instead...i opted fer someone close enough to the top of the food chain...by stroll'n fer a troll in the wee hours of the nite in the park...fer a ride home...cuz i was too tired to walk

and don't you whores start point'n fingers cuz i wasn't there alone

once the millennium came out...everyone was come'n out...

i fer one...was satisfied eat'n fer one on one fer a change...fer some change...not once...not twice...and by the third time...i knew i no longer wanted to be a laydee of the nite...cuz i figered i needed to evolve beyond the bar stools and the bad morn'n after breath mints i picked up from the nite before

now with everything bein' built on mistrust or absolute disgust...

from blurred and/or photochopped pix...most are just absolute on-line dicks with no pricks (hey everyone has their weakness) and it's become'n harder and harder...(and still without the use of a lil blue pill i might add)...to be bothered waste'n yer time or space to get yer motor runn'n

listen...i have no problems with relationships...i've had my share...BUT...

(and trust me...there always is one) 

even though i'm not all fer think'n there is that ONE TRUE ONE out there...i've done my charity work fer the time bein' with the last socially retarded...chemically dependent...and emotionally unavailable but incredibly attractive and very loveable mo's that i found out there...and regardless of all the hoops and fruit loops i'll have to encounter along the way to find "the one" in the distant future...which in all seriousness...

is about as real as the unicorn...i'll still do it all over again...someday!

but let's be real kittens...no self respect'n...self indulgent hussy...from twinkville to the twi-lite years...wants to should have to be bobb'n fer blue balls in the steam room on a friday nite...while yer still hope'n to find that perfect #1...that isn't completely full of #2

who knows how the future of fantastic fornications will play out...

but i fer one...plan on participate'n!

now get off my dress!