Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Avast...

I was waiting in line at the Coffee Bean this morning [Frau does not do the Starbucks, even though they opened one in backseat of my car just last week] when I over heard a pair of overly affected voices lisping away behind me. At first I tried my best to ignore it, focusing on the rather phallic looking stack of Rice Crispy treats neatly displayed on the countertop, but for some reason that didn't help at all.

"Oh girl, if you saw that outfit up close you would have died!" the voice squealed.

"Oh, you are such bitch, I love it!" his friend added.

"You know I'll give it to you straight, girl!" he said, then they both snickered as if assured that they were the cleverest queens in the southland. "And you should have seen Hayden Panettiere's dress! Save the cheerleader's dress, save the world, maybe!" he minced on, but I couldn't take it anymore, nobody fucks with my Claire [she can throw herself out of a window and live! That's one tough broad!].

I quickly turned to face the offenders. I was not at all surprised to see the Queerest of the Queers, Ryan Seacrest and his little lackey Al Roker. "

Its talk like a pirate day, not talk like a butt-pirate you little wanna-be homo!" I spat. Al quickly cowered behind Ryan, hoping that his product filled hair would serve as a shield from my wrath.

"And who are you supposed to be, the fashion police?" Ryan sassed.

"At least I have enough sense not to wear crocs out in public."

"It's the new 'metrosexual' thing to wear," he tried to justify.

"Metrosexual your ass!" I yelled and grabbed one of the Rice Crispy treats off the counter and shoved it in his eye. He went down like he was hot for a popsicle, if you catch my metaphor. Once he hit the floor, it was Seacrest out. Al cried and pledged his allegiance to me if I would spare him. I told him to get this trash out of my sight, kicking Ryan in back of the head as if I were one of the Jena Six. Then I ordered a Vanilla Ultimate, damn those things are goooood!