Carmen’s Banana Cooking Episode #41

Welcome to Today’s FYB Post featuring CARMEN’S BANANA COOKING EPISODE #41. Carmen’s Banana Cooking Show  Aired on Austin Community  Television (Public Access) on Channel 10 on Fridays at 10pm from 1984 until 1992. Carmen would Cook Up Banana Dishes, Showcase Local Talent, and Go on Countless 80’s Austin Adventures. The Show’s Viewing Audience was Comprised of Actual Real Fans as well as Those Who were Fans of the Surreal Absurd fucking Freak Show Factor. The Show was Recently Rescued and Restored Carmen’s Banana Cooking is Streaming for Free On Youtube, and it has an Official Website. Also an Interesting Fact is Every Single Episode of Carmen’s Banana Cooking Show was Produced by Steven David Video.

The Host is a Ugly motherfucker in Wannabe Chiquita Banana Drag with Prosthetics (But remember They weren’t like the Prosthetics used in TV and Film Today. Take for Example Carmen’s Massive Quadruple DD Tits that were made from fucking Paper Mache for fucks sake), and the Finest fucking Dollar Store Wig Available. Carmen is Also Adorned with some Seriously fucking Tacky Banana Gimmick that looks like Some shit You’d buy for a fucking Halloween Costume. As for Carmen’s Make Up it Looks like a Piece of fucking Trailer Park Dwelling Piece of White Trash hooked up with a fucking Las Vegas Meth Addicted $2 Hooker and had a fucking Kid. Also We must fucking Warn You that at the Beginning Carmen Sings some Old Ass Love Song and Sings it HORRIBLY that it makes American Idol Rejects look Talented.

          

Episode Synopsis: First and Foremost the Show has Insanely Shitty Production Value and is EXTREMELY fucking Low Quality as it fucking gets. As We just Mentioned Above the Show Starts with Carmen Murdering the fuck Out of some Back in the Day Love Song. Then Carmen’s Big Sister Karma Stops by for some Utterly Unknown Reason. Karma then Dumps a Basket of what fucking else Bananas and Proceeds to Read Them like Some Sort of Shaman Mystic Medicine Man. Now it’s Not exactly Clear but it Seems that the Banana Basket Bullshit was to Confirm the Winner of the 1988 Election or at Least that’s what the Two Started Babbling About Almost Incoherently.

Our Favorite Line is when Carmen tells Her Sister as Her Sister is Leaving “We’ll Twist Up a few Banana Peels” Not too fucking Subtle Smoke Weed Much? FYI We Smoke Weed so We’re Not talking some Straight Edge Happy Horseshit. The Episode Ends by Transitioning from the Show’s Set to Some Asshole in Bed with Leopard Themed Pillows, Sheets, and Shit Wearing a Cheap Latex Mask (The Kind Used in the Human Doll Fetish). Now whoever the fuck it is or Supposed to be Doesn’t say a single fucking Word and Body Language is as if the Camera Man just Walked into Their Bedroom and Surprised Them so Their Acting all Shyly Taken Aback.

It is What it Is,

   Presented By Les Sober  

ITS 11:56 WTF Do They Want of Me?!

Sorry no pictures, this is what the fuck it is and nothing more. I have adapted a Vikingistic (not a real word but damn well fucking should be.) view of things. I digress as you can read all bout that shit tomorrow.

Its not a matter of IF My shitty Heart kills me, thats a fucking Granted its only a matter of When. Fuck I could be dead by the time your read this, or well dead by the time ANYONE sees this.

I’m intoxicated and insane, fuck is this all about, and fuck do they want?! All these fucking people most of whom I have no fucking clue who they are keeping calling. Calling to Collect, Calling to Verify, Calling to Solicit some shit.

They want to continue the game of Fuck Me Frankenstein and Add more shit to compensate for the Bum Fucking Ticker. Its for Insurance purposes They Assure Me. Assure Me of What? My Fucking Death.

They pump me full of Pills, Restrictions, Regulations, The inevitable Rules.

Fuck That. The shit I’ve seen, the Shit I’ve Done, this shit should be NO FUCKING SURPRISE.

They say what doesn’t KILL YOU make You Stronger. My Question why is all this shit trying to kill me? Fucking A. I’m NO SAINT, but fuck Me. If you believe in Karma and I for one Do We can all safely assume I was motherfucking Hitler in my last life. My life is dodging or dealing with infinite SHIT STORMS.

I’m not a Gambling Man, BUT if I have to bet on my fucking Life, yeah I’m fucking going to try and Rig the Deck for all its fucking worth. Don’t Get Me Wrong, BUT I have my conditions like Jesus in the Electric Chair.

I’ll do Anything as well as Its On My Terms.

Fuck. Sorry No Pictures.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober.