Truthfully though, they are all intertwined.
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Truthfully though, they are all intertwined.
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SO……..I stumbled upon the oddest thing. I found (in my twisted mind) a transcript of a phone call between Michael Jackson and some chick. That in itself is odd…..I know! BUT……It’s crazy, because the phone call uses every song title from his albums:
OFF THE WALL (1979)
……..and the ULTIMATE COLLECTION (04)
Michael: Little Susie, or whatever your name is. You are a P.Y.T (Pretty Young Thing). We’ve known each other since my Childhood, which means, we met yesterday and I know my genitals say we should Just Good Friends, but I want you to be The Lady In My Life, at least for enough time to get busy.
Girl: Say, Say, Say what you want, but not This Time Around. I don’t know if I can trust you. I Can’t Help It, my last boyfriend was a Cheater, and it’s Human Nature to want to take things slow.
Michael: Come on. Baby Be Mine! I need to prove to the world that you aren’t just some Stranger In Moscow that I made up. People think I’m In The Closet and there’s Another Part Of Me I’m trying to hide from the world. I’m trying to Heal The World one child at a time. There’s no Monkey Business going on, except for that one I have at home.
Girl: I ain’t no Tabloid Junkie, but I’m a Superfly Sister and I don’t need to be caught up in no Carousel. So, maybe you aren’t with The Man child they pictured you with, but what about B.J?
Michael: I like those.
Girl: No! The girl.
Michael: Billie Jean is not my Girlfriend. Hell, she isn’t even my lover. She’s just a Street Walker that I felt Bad for. She was Working Day And Night for hardly any Money. I swear we never had sex. I just Beat It a few times in front of her when she talked about The Lost Children. That’s HIStory.
Girl: Okay. What about D.S.? You know…the dirty slut? I’m not going to Rock With You if you Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ with her. I’m freaking Speechless. She goes commando and plugless when she’s on her period and gets Blood On The Dance Floor. She is straight up nasty.
Michael: You mean Dirty Diana? She’s Out of My Life. We spent a few days to Come Together. We experimented with 2000 Watts, played a few rounds of Someone Put Your Hand Out and invited a few friends over to Jam in with me. It was intense. the experience made me Cry, gave me Butterflies, and required more Privacy than anyone should be allowed. I felt Threatened. I saw Ghosts. I became Scared Of The Moon. I took Morphine and something called Speed Demon until the Break Of Dawn. I thought I could Fly Away, but then, I thought, Heaven Can Wait. I mean….if I even go there. The stench was so bad when we were done, The owner said: “We have to Burn This Disco Out”.
Girl: You Can’t Let Her Get Away or you will let her Ease On Down The Road? Pick one!
Michael: You have to understand. She Drives Me Wild, but You Rock My World. You are fooled by the Man In The Mirror I’m pretending to be. I Just Can’t Stop Loving You for being so stupid. You Are My Life. Don’t Walk Away. I’m begging you. It’s The Way You Make Me Feel. Is this too soon? Is It Scary?
Girl: The Girl Is Mine, she’s not mine! Whatever! I’m getting whiplash here. Remember The Time I called you and you said you were home with Bubbles laying in the chamber together? Well, a Sunset Driver told me he saw you out with that Liberian Girl?
Michael: Bull crappy! It was a boy with long hair!
Girl: That’s even worse! He saw you Get On the Floor and get a Thriller. And he heard you yell: “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough”! Then he jumped back over the security wall at Neverland Ranch.
Michael: Wait! Were you following me? I thought I saw Someone In The Dark. Girl, that shit is Dangerous. I don’t care if you’re Black Or White. That place is Off The Wall. You can Scream and SHOUT and no one’s gonna do a damn thing. Get It?
Smooth Criminal everywhere you look? Besides, I’ve never done anything inappropriate with anyone, who wasn’t legally unable to consent, intimidated, or influenced by my fame and “assumed”, but ever-diminishing wealth. Why You Wanna Trip On Me?
Girl: Oh my God. Your ability to live in an alternate universe is Unbreakable. It’s The Falling In Love with the wrong things that freaks me out. I mean really, the Elephant Man’s skeleton? And no one ever believed the relationships with Brooke and Lisa Marie. Please just Leave Me Alone.
Michael: I’m Invincible and you are no Heartbreaker, but the good news…..You Are Not Alone. I will let this phone call slide and give you Once More Chance. You should just Give In To Me. The Way You Love Me doesn’t matter because I’m the King of Pop and Whatever Happens, You Can’t Win. The truth is, the world’s people, They Don’t Care About Us celebrities. They just care how we fuck up and if we are Gone Too Soon. So, let’s say you put a Smile on your face. Marry me. Give me what I want. I will write some crappy Earth Song, make millions and then we can split once We’ve had Enough.
Girl: Well…..when you put it that way. So……Will You Be There?
Michael: Hell no! I won’t even let my sperm be there. I found a donor for us.
Girl: Who is it? They aren’t 2 Bad, right?.
Michael: Keep The Faith. This isn’t Bubbles first rodeo.
***Telephone transcript between Michael Jackson and Debbie Rowe.***
SO……There’s something new going around the blogosphere, which I’m sure many of you are already aware of. It’s a new game of sorts called “Tag, you’re it.” It seems innocent enough, but for kicks, I looked in the Urban Dictionary for definitions of TAG. Big mistake!
Okay……So let me get this straight. If I’m in with the streetwise slang slinger’s who came up with this shit and had this story to tell:
Boris was truly a unique guy. He loved grapes and ribs while masturbating. Sometimes it was lonely. People saw him only as a communist whose sole purpose in life was to find cheaper and better vodka. No one saw him as a real man.
Boris wanted to prove everyone wrong by doing something manly. He could punch someone, or better yet, shoot someone with a gun. Then he remembered he didn’t own a firearm. So he thought he could find a girl to have sex with. If not, perhaps a girl whose vagina he could shoot with a Nerf gun and leave a mark .
Boris set out to find this special someone. He approached a young woman and asked if he could insert his thumb up her ass or butt. She gave him a quick, sharp blow to the scrotum and told him to back off or she’d cut him and fuck him up.
“That’s not cool”, said Boris.
The girl replied, “What are you, some mentally retarded human being who tries to rape others?”
It would be rewritten by the new voice of America per Urban Dictionary as:
Boris was a tag, who tagged. Sometimes it was lonely. People saw him as a tag. No one saw him as a real man.
Boris wanted to prove everyone wrong by doing something manly. He could tag someone, or better yet, tag someone. Then he remembered he didn’t own a firearm. So he thought he could find a girl to tag. If not, perhaps a girl to tag.
Boris set out to find this special someone. he approached a young woman and asked if he could tag her or tag. She have him a tag and told him to back off or she’d tag him.
“Tag”, said Boris.
The girl replied, “What are you, tag?”
Okay folks, that’s a look at what idiots pass off as street slang. I’m all for saying things in a more concise way, but What the TAG?!!?
Pretty gross, I know, but what else can it be? This is my 3rd post for today. The words are flowing out of me and it’s kind of ugly and messy. I tried to wrap my keyboard with a pad, but it didn’t work.
Actually, it’s not that complicated or interesting, but it’s this: The baby has slept through the night (only 2 nights) and mommy isn’t as tired during the day. Also, my office is pretty much done. It needs the light fixture put in and some caulking done, but it’s basically done. Having my space makes all the difference.
Sometimes it’s humor. Sometimes it’s wit. Sometimes it’s sarcasm and many times it’s just damn inappropriate. BUT…..That’s me. Take it or leave it. I’m not changing my thought process or verbal outbursts for anyone. Like I tell most people, it’s a birth defect. Get over it!
Can I be a serious person? Of course dumb shit. I’m serious, sensitive, analytical, creative and I’m a whole bunch of other crap this post isn’t about. Believe it or not, some people, but not many, say that I’m a nice and giving person. Those people aren’t very smart though. It’s important to keep them around though. How else am I going to lift my self-esteem if it isn’t on the backs of those less superior? Now that we’ve settled that, let’s get back to business.
Many moments in my life would have been well suited for drugs (legal or otherwise) and/or therapy. Even as a child, I used humor in all it’s forms, to help me get through tough times. I even tried to use it to get others through theirs. Sometimes, it’s just good to lighten the mood or break the ice.
A sampling of such:
If you read yesterday’s post, then you know I’m pondering my relationship with my daily alcohol consumption.
AM I AN ALCOHOLIC? I don’t have a strong craving for alcohol. I’m not physically dependant for survival, although it does help to be a better person. Seriously, you should meet me when I’m not drinking. I can limit myself…if I want to do so. Unless of course I get drunk and then I’m not in charge anymore. ANSWER: No
DO I HAVE AN ALCOHOL ABUSE PROBLEM? Oh wait…..I did pour some of my beer out the other day. Okay….I’m a damn alcohol waster. BUT….I don’t let it interfere with my home life or relationships with people. If they don’t fucking like the way I drink they can step off or get a bottle to the head. I don’t drink and take part in dangerous situations. Although, I have been known to think while drinking and some have told me that puts all in a precarious place. There was also that Kama Sūtra moment, but we don’t want to go there. Okay…you do, but I don’t. AND…..No legal problems have resulted from my drinking. Although, it might be considered a crime to have hooked up with some of the losers I did in college due to alcohol tunnel vision. ANSWER: No
AM I A DRUNK? When I drink, my brain function isn’t impaired to the point where I have poor judgment. I never pissed in the corner or my dresser drawer, just in my pants. However, a sneeze induced moment because you’ve had kids doesn’t count. My judgment is spot on, although some of my postings may have you questioning this. It doesn’t cut my reaction time. Of course, when I drink now, I’m at home doing this blog or watching television. BUT…..I’m pretty sure I type just as fast and my eyes still blink the same amount of times. I don’t lose my balance and my motor skills are good. Although, I’m not really paying attention. When I get up, I’m getting another beer and my brain function is slightly impaired, so I’m not too sure. My speech is not slurred (not on a nightly basis), but again, everyone is asleep so I only have myself to talk to. I think I sound okay. ANSWER: No. Although, I won’t lie. I was drunk 1x in the last eight months (the fault of my bitch friend per last post…) when this nightly drinking thing happened upon me. See how I pass the buck there? That’s something a drunk would say.
AM I A CLOSET DRINKER? There was a time, but the closet was almost as big as a room. I don’t hide the fact that I drink. I may have hidden my alcohol before, but that’s because I’m friends with a bunch of drunks. ANSWER: No
AM I A SOCIAL/CASUAL DRINKER? Have I had drinks at other people’s homes or had people over for drinks? Yes, but a social drinker does not intend to get drunk. I’ve never set out to get drunk when I have some drinks, but that “does not intend” leaves a lot of room to screw up. ANSWER: Yes
DO I DRINK IN MODERATION? Well, I thought so, but not according to the Dietary Guidelines of America. I’d like the opinions of some non-americans here. Apparently, these tight asses say that heavy drinking is anything more than 1 drink per day for women and 2 drinks per day for men. ANSWER: No. This kind of news makes me want to drink more excessively, get drunk and rob a liquor store. After all, I’m already a heavy drinker.
AM I A BINGE DRINKER? Those bastards who came up with the Dietary Guidelines of America, while drunk off their asses at the local bar, say that I might be. Binge drinking is 5 or more drinks for men and 4 or more drinks for women in a 2 hour period. The bastards that be, say this usually leads to a blood alcohol concentration of 0.08%. I’m guessing it depends on what you’re actually drinking. ANSWER: Yes, per the bastards that be.
CONCLUSION: I am a social drinker, who doesn’t intend to get drunk, but has allowed this to happen because I don’t know how to drink in moderation. This has led to binge drinking on occasion and sometimes in a closet . When I discover I’ve had enough, I may abuse alcohol by pouring it down the sink. Hmmmmm. My only consolation is that I drink beer water: Budweiser Select 55 with a 2.4% alcohol content, 55 calories and only 1.9 carbs. This is a beer I can drink excessively and still feel good about it in the morning.
If there are any mistakes in this post, have a drink and get over it.
So…..I’m reading this Year of Living Sober blog and I’m thinking, WTF! Who wants to do that? Just kidding. I am not trying to encourage alcohol consumption or condone alcoholism, although if you are reading this and under the influence, I applaud you for doing what it takes to get through my ramblings. Sort of seriously though, the blog isn’t written by a recovering alcoholic, but rather someone who just wanted to give up drinking for one year.
I decided to analyze my relationship with alcohol. Alcohol and I started seeing each other back in the seventies when my father used it as a cure-all for any fever, coughing, toothache or what have you. He gave us (bro, sis and myself) a shot of Spanada wine and would send us to bed. Like a dumbass, I thought it was some cure. Now that I have my own children, I realize he just was trying to get us to go to
fucking bed and leave him alone.
Alcohol and I started to date again while I was in highschool. There were parties here and there, breaking into parent’s liquor cabinets and an unplanned “so drunk I blacked out” episode during a dress rehearsal. In college, we got hot and heavy. Too much drinking and not enough studying. Sorry dad. I did graduate though. Between college and children it was all about drinking socially. occasionally this led to not remembering the ride home, which means at some point it became anti-social and I was just a drunken mess. I did say ride though. I did not drive. The good news is, my current relationship wasn’t that wonderful, so being out of it on occasion was a blessing. Besides, I got better looking when I drank. Yes….I meant it the way I wrote it.
This leads us to today. Back in May of 2011, right before finals in my nursing class, I decided to have a few beers (3-5) at night to destress myself. This became a few beers each night except for four in the last eight months. Now….three of those four, I didn’t drink at all. One out of the four, I got a bit carried away at a friend’s birthday bash and mixed a few different alcoholic beverages. Needless to say, I slept on the bathroom floor all night…..for convenience of course. I blame her for having a party. What a bitch! My husband kept telling me we had to leave. He blames me for sneaking drinks behind his back when I was slurring as it was, just to stay longer. Let me see here. I’m 41, slurring words and sneaking alcohol. Hmmmmmm! So……I wasn’t suffering from a stroke, a neuromuscular disorder (ALS, cerebral palsy, MS or Parkinson’s) or Lyme disease. Oh my freaking hell! I guess I was
fucking drunk. As a police officer, I would think my husband would know how to identify a woman, who is drunk off her ass and incapable of being responsible. I guess he was blinded by his immense love for me or the hope of drunken sex. Sadly, not much action on the bathroom floor. Just a lot of flushing.
Just keeping it real: This is already too long, so I will write more on this later. Also, I only had one beer left, so I had to bust open the boxed wine. Nothing but the best baby. Two glasses while writing this and I’m good. Off to bed.
I’m a real slacker, but I’m finally getting around to posting this award blog.
Opening Jokes: (Zen) So, Aurora…you look beautiful with your lion’s mane. I think we are going to have au-ror-of a good time. (forced audience laughter)(Aurora) You are so funny or maybe it’s the zen and juice I had earlier. (gun to the head chuckles) ZEN: Even though she is a slacker and took too damn long to post that I gave her an award, I zendictive, award Lorre the Kreativ Blogger Award. AURORA: Hi! I’m Aurora from AURORA MOREALIST . I was recently given three awards that I would like to pass on to Lorre. I am presenting her with the Kreativ Blogger award, the One Lovely Blog Award and the Versatile Blogger award. Closing Remarks: (Aurora) Zendictive and I talked backstage and decided that she really didn’t deserve them, but it really gets hard finding people to pass these damn things on to and it is the holiday season. Plus, we are pretty drunk and what the hell! It seems like the thing to do.********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Opening Praise: (Janece) Oh my Red, you are looking red-hot tonight. Red hot momma! (audience yells: Hell yeah!)(Red) And you Janece, you are looking extra blue-tiful tonight. (smack the person beside you and tell them to laugh) RED: I’m Red from Momma’s Money Matters or M3. I would like to present Lorre with a special award that I created, The (Red) Educational Shoe Award.This is the most fabulous award out now. This award is to acknowledge a blogger’s most supportive commenters. This should exclude stalkers, unless you like that kind of attention. JANECE: I’m Janece over at The Wild Pomegranate . Tonight, I am presenting Lorre with two awards. First, for being so patient in waiting for my reply to an award, I am giving her the Patient Blog Awarder Blog Award. I would also like to present her with the Versatile Blogger award. Remarks made thinking the mic was off: (Red) This is so f%$&#ing lame. Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ve got a babysitter and a big bear waiting for me backstage. (Janece) You don’t have to tell me twice. My friend did my hair and I’m ready to get wild and crazy. Keep that bear away from me though. **********************************************************************************************************************************************************************
LORRE: Thanks so much everyone. I really appreciate all the awards that were given to me. I doubt I deserve them, but I am sure as hell not giving them back. To each of you: I love your blogs and consider it a privilege to read them while I’m drinking. Each of you has touched me in a special way, a way that doesn’t involve a restraining order, medical attention or a change of clothes. After reading your wonderful works, I’m inspired to
quit continue my blogging pursuits. For the Kreative Blogger, I need to list 7 or 10 things about myself and then pass it on to 6 or 7 bloggers. It seems the requirements keep changing. For the Versatile Blogger, I need to list 7 things about myself and pass this on to 7 bloggers. For the One Lovely Blog Award, I need to pass it on to 15 recently discovered blogs. I’m gonna need to call NASA or a scientist for that one. For The (Red) Educational Shoe Award, I need to pass it on to 5 supportive commenters. AND….For the Patient Blog Awarder Blog Award, I don’t have to do a fucking thing. So…..I’ve never been good at math, but 7 + 10 + 7 + 7 and then 6 + 7 + 7 + 7 and then 5 and…oh hell, it’s just a lot of shit I need to do. I think I’ve kept you fine folks here long enough. I will get another post out with my things (maybe not so many) and my blogs (maybe not so many). The blog part will be hard because a lot of you are fantastic and have already been presented these awards. I’m out of here folks, but I’ll be fulfilling my blogging obligations soon. I’m sure you are not holding your breath for this.
October 27th, 2011
Disclaimer: If you and your spouse are besties, you may be offended by this. Too
I hear a lot of people say their spouse is their best friend. On Facebook, there are a myriad of posts announcing “On this day blah, blah years ago, I married my best friend.” I just can’t relate. First of all, I’m not twelve anymore. I can’t afford to have only one best friend. My friends have spouses, kids, jobs and other friends. I’d be very lonely if I waited for my one best friend to be available………and quite frankly……..a bit pathetic and needy. Can we say Single White Female? (Look it up if you don’t get the reference.) I have several really great friends. I don’t live in the right state to be married to more than one of them. So I’m out on legality alone.
Let’s get down to it. None of my great friends have penises. Some of them carry their spouses balls around from time to time, but that’s it. After my own experiences with guys I thought were my best friends, I realize that a true-best friendship between men and women is really not possible (sexual tension is a bummer). I know someone will disagree with that, but I’m here to tell you….”I’m right and you’re wrong.” The exception would be if one is a homosexual. So at this point, my husband has a penis and is absolutely not a homosexual. So far, the friend thing is looking bleak.
Vacations with friends can be great. I’m still friends with the ones I’ve traveled with. We returned to our corners. My friends would agree. They don’t want to live with me either. Needless to say, my husband and I go on vacation with friends to get away from each other. Plus, we can’t afford more than one house and who’d be stuck with the kids? Friends also share clothing, shoes and jewelry. I wouldn’t be married to a man I could do this with. And the tampon thing………. total deal breaker if he had his own supply.
When I need to vent about married life, I bitch with my best friends. That so would not work if that person was my husband. I think I know whose
fucking side he’d be on. My friends are great. They tell it like it is and give me their unbiased opinions about crap. My husband needs to tell me what I want to hear and give me my opinion. I’m his damn wife. He better be biased. Friends also show an interest in your stuff, or at least pretend to. We aren’t dating anymore. I don’t give a crap about his high score on XBox and he doesn’t give a shit about my recent decoupage project.
I enjoy my friendships because I have a husband to come home to. I enjoy my husband because I have great friends to be myself with. The bottom line is: I can never be friends with my spouse. There are too many factors working against us. Besides, I don’t have sex with my friends and I’m not willing to trade the best fucking, non-love making, mind-blowing sex of my life for friendship. We’re married. Isn’t that good enough!??!!
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!!!!!!!!!
It seems I was a bit confusing in my earlier post, due to being tired and an idiot. The last part is a birth defect so it cannot be held against me. To be clear: I am not pregnant. The sex did not work. Let me clarify that as well. It did not work for making babies, but it worked in other ways. No. There are no pictures and there will be no details. Everyone reading my blog should know how sex works. If you don’t…..I am very sorry. Maybe you will meet a bad man or woman one day and they can school you in this animal-like ritual. That doesn’t mean there should be a sacrifice afterwards. I’m pretty sure that would be a mood killer.