DEWERS N SMITHFIELD HAM

i never realized that lesbians had so much drama in their life. i thought they were fun loving flower power people sitting around braiding braclets out of hemp and singing carol king songs. " i liked to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony...blah blah blah....UNTIL, i met my cousin, mercedes maria lisa, in the lobby of the marriott marina hotel in downtown tampa, florida. she started ranting off about one in the navy, one in the army, one from the cheesecake factory , and one in a pear tree. did you know that you can transfer from one cheesecake factory to the other? i did not know you could cross state lines. actually, i think you need to go thru a corporate training program because depending on the region determines the flavors of chesecake. i know that when i went to the CF in costa rica they had a lot with bananas. ok back to LOGO. holy shit. brandon aka diva below the mason dixon line. is that like the jar or is it like the college george mason or.....had his 2nd xmas fit of the day. 1. over katie wanting to wrap the xmas presents for the stockings. really? really. i am going to debate that shit when i go to debate club back in north cape may at the VFW hall. go cape may cougars. don't get that mistaken for middle age girls who like younger guys. they are pumas. fit #2 over not being able to fit adult size elf tights for the xmas bar bike tour. i heart florida beef n beer blasts and old men over 65 who like to go out for early bird din dins at 430pm. i am so getting a sugar daddy dipped in glitter, lettuce, and popcorn.
back on ellen's ranch...my cousin, met this girl from jacksonville florida on the 3rd day she had her myspace. well, fast forward five hot mess minutes later she was packing up her wifebeaters and skate or die sneakers and moving to florida. someone get that girl a safety pin and pop her banana bubble. well, they never moved in together because her gay dreamcatcher home depot lightbulb went off and she found out the chic was a 35 loser with no job. no coins in da bank. no life. somewhere in the carpet munching puddin' there was a couple girls that looked like young skater boys. really? really. yes, i saw some camera phone pics. and yes, camera pics make you look more butch and add 8oz to you face. SNAP.
i am so glad that i met up with my cousin, mercedes maria lisa, because she opened a whole new can of tuna fish in oil to my eyes. have you ever googled google? it comes up goggle. actually, i am late because james lipton is interviewing me on inside the gay actors studio. the topic is my new documentary on bananas. it is very riveting and a tear jerker. i get a bunch of bananas and hand them out to homeless people. i am a mother fucking giver, people. so start giving this kwanza and the only time you should be getting something for nothing is when uncle charlie is jacked up on cocaine and dewers plowing the shit out of your ass. actually, i heart it when i my uncle billy used to teabag me. SCREW MISTLETOE.

STRAWBERRY FIELDS FOREVER

i am reading a book called, how to get along with boys while drinking coffee in clearwater, florida on vacation. indy, the wendling dog, is howling at the today show. why? because he had been following the story about that little girl who went missing in florida and they founds some bones behind her house yesterday. i just had to give him a bacon strip to calm his nerves. it is going to be very touch and go with him today. the clouds are a thick roux this morning. i feel like i am still in cape may. NOT CUTE.
the book suggests how to eat certain foods....NUTS: use your fingers. do not crack hard-shelled nuts with your teeth. besides being dangerous, it looks bad.
actually, i would rather have greasy fingers while eatting my fried chicken sometimes if only the the jerk off sitting across from me would disappear into odorless vapors.
my grandfather, john...my mother's father...actually, i don't even know if that was his name? oh my god, now that looks bad. my grandpa was a bit boozey. he once drove me in his chocolate colored impala to pick up my brother, johnny, at his school. well, gramps got lost and we ended up on newark pompton turnpike in wayne, nj. well, we skipped over the double yellow lines and smacked right into the telephone pole. johnny's face bounced off the dashboard and his nose started raining blood...and i slide under the back seat and my legs were stuck under there. what does a grandfather do? he gets out and runs away down the highway......the guy at the gas station calls 911 thinking that we were kidnapped. pops was having a couple beers at lunch and was afraid he was going to get arrested....REALLY? really. we got a police escort home to 2 thorton drive. my mother went out to dunkin doughnuts and got a dozen for the family. when my brother, johnny opened them up they were ALL strawberry glazed with sprinkles. i was in heaven staring at all the pinky sugary confections winking back at me. my 3 brothers were all whining about why they all were strawberry. my mother looked over at me with a smirk on her face and just said flat out BECAUSE....... grandpa came home a bit later with JLC we never talked about what happened and i actually don't know if he ever got in trouble. that is the irish catholic way...you ignore everything in life that makes you uncomfortable....oh my god, i think a light bulb just went off in my head... i am sure JLC called in a favor with some judge or police chief. he was whipping up his magic even back in the 70's. ok, i have to go now because i am playing the black sheep in the xmas pageant down at the colored folks church in dunedin, florida. i will try my hardiest not to dry hump any of the other animals in the flock.
it is dangerous and it looks bad.
P.S. the story about grandpa fields is 100 true. shocked? i am not making shit up in my head again.

DISCO TEABAGS

one of my darling friends sent me an e card last night that said i hope you wake up on top of man not a pile of woman's fashion magazines this new year's eve day. EXACTLY. that is the celery root of all my problems. i am sick of jerking off to british vogue every night.
is it a problem that i am buying my own xmas presents and writing love and best wishes from someone else? do i need a christmas time out because i sent out 75 xmas cards and i probably only really like 12 of those people? so, as i sit on my love seat on christmas eve with my plate full of homemade toasted coconut marshmallows and hot cocoa. i will pray that santa will bring me something that doesn't require two AA batteries and comes wraps in shiny paper. I want peace in the middle east, I want a black president in the white house, and I want a quaker dyke on my box of my oatmeal.
P.S. and i want gay guys to get their heads out of their asses and throw their baggage and steam trunks out in the fucking trash. pat, i would like to buy a vowel. A, please. I would like to solve the puzzle.

ASSHOLE.

552 + 319 + 66 = MONTCLAIR

i don't have anything funny to say or write.

EXIT STAGE LEFT

i am busy casting local celebrities for my charlie brown christmas play that i will put on at the villas VFW hall. i have frank ferris slated to play charlie brown. maria lisa is going to play lucy. patric is on board to play pig pen. i am going to the petsmart to look at who in the hell with play snoopy. i have 75 xmas cards to do today and they have 4 steps to them and they must go out before i leave in the morning. i have to pack all my odds and ends for the 3 bus rides to get to montclair. mace and pepper spray, CHECK. i also have to scotch guard my clothes before i go to florida because i end up sweeping the floors of the gay bars down there with my fashion. oh shit. i still am recovering from the last supper and 309 still smells like ol' fowl and feed. so, i must keep this short and sweet n low. hope eveyone is enjoying these joyous times and not getting to much gas from this recession.
take a beano and call me in the morning.
P.S. i also have to help work out those factory workers in chicago who are having a sit in for their pensions. i am telling you a gal friday's job is never done.

the last supper

let me just say that da vinci was not in the wine cellar at the washington inn last night. jesus might have been there but i kept hearing something in the bread basket but it was a bit muffled from the savory snacks being wrapped in fresh linen. the twelve apostles were there or the motley crew or the hen house or the circus came back to town. you can always tell when it is acomin' you hear that piercing music box sound, the earth shivers from the march of the elephants....and by the way the air is full of the smell of hay, cotton candy, and donkey shit. i heart a hot number 2. can you super size my fries though. i am eating for two, papi. i think jesus gave a shout out to his apostles peeps and said at that din din "one of you bitches is going to come for me and try to cut me with your box cutter"
i will give that award to dot. she showed up in her christmas sweatshirt. vutton, of course. earring by chanel. lipstick by avon. the color of that stick "blackened brown suga plum fairy chipped beef"
all the girls are featuring it. she was announcing to the world that she came with no money. she has no money. she only got one unemployment check since october. that skillet is cracked and needs to hang itself up on the wall for good. whatta mean you don't serve fried chicken anymore, bobby? i think there is a KFC in north cape may. actually, the twelve apostle, lucille phoned her dinner in because she was home in bed with a lazy eye. she had to go get the dewers build up on her left eye scrapped in philly. mama dot made a eye patch for her out of a piece of dried fat back and butcher's twine. once she got over the musty smell, she resumed the role of black ice the bitchiest black pirate on the eastern seaboard. you should met her pet parrot. she is one mean buzzard. i think her name is shirley. THE END.
mother nature is whippin up a mean batch of cookies down here. it is code blue. which means the police scoop up the homeless people so they don't turn into human creamsicles in the gutters or under the bridges or in their cardboard apts. also, i learned at 4am this morning after i woke up out of dead sleep and turned the news on to go back to bed. there is only one company in the usa that makes wire hangers for dry cleaners. and they are fist fucking the merchants by jacking up the prices. i always hated when a wire hanger was hiding out in my closet mixed up with all the popular kids. i would rip him right off the playground and break both his hands and feet. now, i think i am going to let them stay and enjoy the merry go round and take a kiki in the sandbox. and you never know if jesus will need a wire hanger to beat down the apostle who ends up stabbin' him in the back with a dull butter knife. mary jo can you pass me the butter, please.

RAYON MAFIA

brooke shields was not available to do the show. i had to endure a 3 hour christmas parade with a million fire trucks with xmas lights thrown on them. a bunch of fags. i putting that nicely and loosely. hot apple knocker cider. and a partridge in a pear tree.

check back soon.