My first rant is I am a complete dipshit. I just wrote 2 pages of my infinite wisdom and it got fist fucked by the post new blog button. Ahhh but nothing like a good fist. No you perv a fist full of money with all ben franklins flashing up in this bitch.
Anyway…… back to the parade…..
I love parades. But why isn’t there a freak parade. Or a goth parade? Is there? I want to go. Or a night time parade. No not Mardi Gras, Mardi Gras can kiss my ass. New Orleans is a corrupt slum with a bit of history and bunch of people that speak in accents so thick you can’t understand their English. And Bourbon Street outside of Mardi Gras is middle aged and full of panhandlers. SUCKY!!!!
Have you ever seen a wench, a troll, or a peasant? Have you ever frequented an establishment that just made you want to projectile vomit? Then maybe you have been to the Raven in New Hope. Even without my full afro of hair that once was, the Raven still can make a 31 year old like me feel like when I went to piss there at 17. The age then was 40ish and now well they are 14 years older, which in the gay world signifies, “How are you still alive?”
Dead people are okay. I always want to be one. But more like living dead girl. I love Rob Zombie.
Yet I don’t like Monday. I don’t particularly like Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday or Friday either. Or the weekends. I do like 4am. Favorite time of the day. Everyone is asleep, I eat my dinner, the roads are empty. The lushes have gone to bed or are off in some ditch and the workers bees haven’t woke up yet.
I miss being a lush. I don’t particularly miss being a worker bee.
So I miss drinking but don’t. The solution: Adopt a lush. Like I send $6 paypal to some out of state lush each month and they take their picture with the cocktail. Sort of like feed the children. What would this be called? Quench a Queer?
Ever wished on a star and then the star fell flat out of the sky? Guess that wish was pretty fucked up, eh mate?
Have you ever wandered how many different types of people there are? Well there are three. The ones that are beautiful, the ones that were beautiful and the ones that will NEVER see beauty. This applies to inner and outer beauty.
If you need to ask what those mean then you are stupid. Most people are stupid but at least you aren’t all that stupid reading this now, are you? You are literate but you may still be stupid. I am a lecherous lunatic from your lactating lagoon inside your loquacious legacy. IF you don’t comprehenday then you just might be a Redneck.
Zealots and Zionists worry not I’m not Jewish. I’m a Recovering Christian. And Christians don’t worry. I doth not breaketh your commandments. Although that doesn’t mean I won’t take your husband, but your wife is safe at least.
Tea bagging is not just an attitude. It is a way of life.
Don’t you wish there was a fast food restaurant where you didn’t even have to stop the car. Oh wait that’s called ripping off a dumb ass drug dealer.
Your mind is never really working as functionally as you would like to think. Your seeds of failure outweigh your seeds of success but if you keep going you may have a secret garden eventually. Don’t forget to trim the bushes.
Women who own a strap-on are five times more likely then women without one to cheat on their spouse/partner. The same also applies to women with mullets.
You need to look in the mirror. Smack yourself five times. Spin in three circles and if you are still standing, you might be sober. If you fell over you are not.
Life, what a beautiful choice? It’s not like pro choice people are shouting out, “Death, what a beautiful choice!!!!”. That would be much more fun to shout to someone who is suicidal and indecisive and not so good at finishing jobs off.
I talk too much. I know this. People know this. Everybody knows this. But why fix the train when it ain’t broke…..
In closing the fat suit is coming off. So all you haters can kiss my white ass soon enough.
Love me.
By Spacedog
Les Sober & FYB 