Practice Makes Perfect

Hi Kids, sorry I've been out of touch, I've just been really busy with band practice. We've been getting together every night and practicing in my garage. Things were going swimmingly, that is until early last night...

We were working on the choreography to our opening number. It was fantastic. First, I walk out as Jerrica Benton in my plain jane pantsuit, and I'm surrounded by the Starlight House orphans, played by Maddox and Zahara Jolie-Pitt, and Pax Jolie-soon-to-be-Pitt. Shiloh cried and cried to be part of the show, but I told her no, she just wasn't orphany enough. Anywho, so I walk out, and then in a could of smoke and lights Alison Goldfrapp appears as Synergy, I tug on my over seized earrings [I got them at Jodie Watleys yard sale, total score!] and then the orphans rip off my tear away pantsuit to reveal my Jem fabulousness. Then the band I and break out into "Glitter N Gold"... Its truly outrageous!

So we were in the middle of out 7th walk through, fucking Zahara keeps missing her cue, when the garage door swings open! Standing there, in the fading sunlight, was Bjork.
"What do you want?" I ask, somewhat defensively.

"Hvað kostar það? Þakka þér fyrir. Reykjavík." She says mousily.

"I told you, I don't speak Spanish!" I chastise her. "Anyone know what the hell is this bitch saying?"

"Ég veit ekki. Gus Gus." Bjork says, throwing a 12" record down at my feet. I look at the cover and understand instantly. She started a Misfits cover band with PJ Harvey and Morrissey. The bitch.

"You stupid slag! I'll cut you like Tori Amos cuts the insides of her thighs!" Alison screamed, pulling a butterfly knife from her va-jay-jay.

"You know, I'm right here." Tori whined from behind the keyboards. We needed somebody to play Kimber since Alison refused, and Tori was a last minute fill in.

"Shut up, Tori, before I rape you again!" Alison called back. Tori sulked into a corner and started talking to the fairies and butterflies.

"Girls, girls!" I interrupted, fearing the disintegration of the band right before my eyes. "Lets remember who the real enemy is here. If Bjork wants a throw down, lets give it to her!"

Then, as if I were a Cable TV Reporter, Bjork leapt at me with a guttural squeal [I'm pretty sure it was one of the tracks off Medulla]. I reeled backwards, tripping over Pax, my hair narrowly escaping her claws. Just as Bjork readied for another attack, Alison threw a glass of water onto her. Instantly, Bjork's skin began to sizzle and smoke as she slowly melted into her clothes.

"ÉG bræða! ÉG bræða! Hvaða a veröld! Hvaða a veröld!" She crieed repeatedly until her voice was nothing more than a little squeak, which didn't really take all that long. We all pause for a moment, none of us wanting the chore of cleaning up the melted Bjork on the floor. Finally, I made an executive decision.

"Shakira, clean that mess up."

"My name is Zahara! Why can't people get that right!" Zahara cried, correcting me.

"No, I meant Shakira. Shakira, get in here, you beautiful liar you!" I called out to my maid.

"Pinche puta." Shakira mumbled under her breath as she entered with mop and bucket.

"Just clean it up, bitch, before I have you deported."

Converting Centimeters to Inches...

So I was sitting at home working on my hook and latch rug (I couldn't resist the cute little puppy picture) when the phone rang.

"'Yello." I said

"Hi, is James in?" asked a very serious man.

"No, he isn't in, but this is his wife." I love fucking with people who dial wrong numbers.

"Great! Well if James isn't available, surely you will help out!"

"Of course I will!"

"We need you to substitute speak at a seminar tomorrow. Can you make it?" he said. I thought for a minute. I did have a lunch date with Britney, but fuck it, she could stay in rehab for one day at least. So I got the address and time for when I was supposed to show up.

I threw on my trampiest dress, but I did make sure to put some panties on, after all, I didn't really know where I was going. And Brit-Brit insisted I pinky swear that I will never leave the house without panties. Hypocrite. But anywho. I map quested the Holiday Inn and rolled up in my Escalade.

"Mrs. Dobson, I'm so glad that you could make it." a man said. I recognized his voice as the very serious man. "They are all waiting for you in the banquet hall. I wish I could stay, but I gotta go." He said just as a Mazda Miata pulled up next to him. Bad house music pouring out of the stereo.
"Come on Ted!" the man, with too too short shorts, yelled from the car.
"Later!" Ted said, getting into the car as it peeled away.

I made my way to the banquet room, which was filled with homos and drag queens. A large banner behind the podium that read "Cure the Disease." As I walked over to the podium the crowd hushed. I cleared my throat

"AIDS is a terrible disease," I started. "And all you homos need to stop bare backing with strangers." The crowd looked confused. I spied a drag queen who was dressed as Betty Page. "You, Drag Queen, what's the deal here?"

"I'm a Betty Page Impersonator! And the problem is, you are supposed to be curing us of homosexuality."

"Oh, that shits easy. Come up here." As Betty Page walked up onto the stage I grabbed the impersonator's hand and stuck it on my boob. "There, now feel that! The power of my tit!" Betty started rubbing a little harder. "Now pay attention guys and recognize! See how easy it is!?!" Betty started to really get into it, touching me in a way I had never felt before. My spine began to tingle. "WHOA there tiger, lets slow it down. Now why don't you go and put some mans clothes on and we'll call this a wrap. Maybe we can go out for a drink." I said with a sly wink. Maybe this day won't be a total loss.

"But you are supposed to cure me."

"I just did, my little drag queen."

"But I'm not a drag queen, I'm an impersonator."

"Yeah,so, either way yer still a dude, even though the boys are tucked up there, somehow, lord knows how you do it, but its there."

"No, I'm a chick."

"Nasty!" I said, slapping her soft tantalizing hand off my supple erect nipple.

"What the funk is your name?"

"Aja."

"Asia?"

"Aja!"

"Asia? Like freaking 'Heat of the Moment'?"

"No, Aja... like... Aja. Anyway, I'm not actually a lez or anything, I'm here for the Betty Page Conference next door. I saw you outside, and for some reason I was drawn to you, so I snuck in here. I think I really may be a lez."

"Well I don't blame you sweetie, this hot bod is a head turner. Now how do you spell your last name, I want to get it right for the restraining order." Then turning back to the mass of homos, I pulled a box of Lemonheads out of my purse and started to pass them out. "Here you go sweeties, this is the sure fire cure in pill form, now yer all straight! Ain't that great!?!" They all seemed a little perplexed, but accepted my cure all. "So who wants to go to Der Wienerschnitzel for corndogs!?!" To which the crowd responded with a cheer, except for the dikes. They were scowling, as dykes do. "And we'll also stop by Del Taco and get some tacos too!" The dykes then quickly joined in the excitement. Then I kicked the podium over and lit the banner on fire. "You can come too, Betty," I added.
"Aja."
"Whatever."

If you touch it I'ma start some drama

Let me set the scene for you: Just got paid, Friday Night, the party was going to be bumpin. I went over to my friend Pygar's condo to help him get ready. He has this posh penthouse at the Long Beach Aqua building. He is always putting together the most random out fits, total haute couture stuff, but his hair is always a mess, pretty much because he is blind as a bat [sans the echolocation]. I used to get there around seven, but showed up around nine. I was tapering the growler, and since it had been a while, it took me a little longer than usual. I was just about to knock on the door when it opened, Pygar's angelic voice inviting me in.

"How'd you know it was me?" I asked and I walked into the living room where he was seated sipping on an Apple Martini. He was wearing these brown chords with some ambisexual blouse that was so bright that I had to squint to look directly at it. As usual, his beautiful blonde hair looked as if he had just gotten out of bed.

"You forget, Frau, I am an angel." He answered calmly.

"Yeah, but it still kinda creeps me out. Not that yer an angel, I totally have friends who are angels, and it doesn't bother me, but that you knew before I even knocked."

"Oh, Frau Bella, you should have no worries when I am near" His voice soothed like a shot of Irish Crème. "Chi-Chi, Frau is here, come and say hello." He called out with quiet grace. A moment later, Chi-Chi, Pygar's seeing-eye Puggle, walked in and came over to me, licking my boot before sitting next to Pygar. "Good, girl."

"Well, lets get started on that birds nest you call a head!" I quipped. After a laborious hour of combing and spraying, the place smelled of Aqua Net and Aussie, but all of my hard work paid off, and his hair appeared to be an effortless mess, almost as if he had just gotten out of bed and said to himself "I'm too cool to waste time combing my hair."

"Tonight is going to be so much fun! I called Britney Spears and told her it was going to be an 'Alien 3' themed party and that she needed to shave her head or else they wouldn't let her in! Man, is she gullible!" I said as we got into the elevator and both laughed. Pygar moved to the back of the elevator with Chi-Chi sitting quietly by his side. "So are you going to totally hook up with some chicks to scam on?"

"I do not understand, 'scam on?'"

"You know, like, make love!"

"Make Love? I do not understand." He said with a calm innocent confusion as the elevator slowed halfway into our decent to the lobby. The doors opened to a wreck of a woman standing there with a soiled shirt and a twig stuck in her hair. Next to her was a fat lump of a dog breathing so heavily it would have made an obscene phone caller blush.

"Oh that's that dog that bites." She growled at Pygar.

"Madame, you must have Chi-Chi confused with some other dog." Pygar said.

"Oh really?" She said, contemptuously glancing between us while getting into the elevator. The doors had just closed when she made a barking sound and a growl. "See, your dog just bit mine!" She yelled, mashing the elevator buttons with her palm to get off on the next floor.

"Chi-Chi did no such thing." Pygar said with quiet defense.

"Yes it did, and now my little dumpling is bleeding all over." She said. I was shocked silent at her mad rambling as I looked from her unscathed slab of meat she called a dog back to the twig sticking out of her hair. "I hope your dog has rabies!" she said as the doors opened and she stepped out.

"Fuck you, you fucking dumb ass bitch cunting whore!" Pygar yelled. "I hope you get fucking ass raped, lord knows that cunt of yours if full of cobwebs!" He managed to say before the doors closed and we began our decent again. "As I was saying," his voice the picture of calm again, "Angels don't make love, Frau Bella, they are love."

Huh... ?

Now, I can't deny that everyone wants a piece of Frau Pie, and really, I can't blame them, this is some high grade puddin'... but sometimes, I just get so very confused by people who don't seem to understand The Frau, no matter how much I try to give them a coupon to buy a clue...

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Robert
Date: Feb 13, 2007 11:17 AM
Check out my profile and hope you like and want to know me better. I see that you have Sun in Pisces. My Sun is in Pisces. My Moon is in Virgo, Taurus is Rising, Venus in Acquarius and Mars in Gemini. Do you know what your Rising Sign, Moon, Venus and Mars are? If not I can calcualte these. I just want to use astrology as one way for us to get to know each oher better. I hope I hear from you soon.

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From: Frau Bella
Date: Feb 13, 2007 12:20 PM
I don't have a son, I don't know who you've been talking too... but I know a certain adoption agency that was paid good money to keep their mouths shut...

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From: Robert
Date: Feb 13, 2007 6:20 PM
I was not referring to you about any son you may or may not have. I was referring to your Sun Sign as in astrology. I am interested in getting to know you personally for a friendship. I have no hidden information about except for what is in your profile.

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From: Frau Bella
Date: Feb 15, 2007 8:57 AM
Thats right, we shall speak of it no more... now whats this about astroglide? You little minx you!

Truly Outrageous...

So I was at the Grammy's this past weekend trying to drum up interest in my "Gem and The Holograms" cover band [Alison Goldfrapp was slated to be Kimber but she refused to participate unless she got to be Synergy, I reluctantly agreed, bitch is always trying to upstage me]. I had a fabulous dress made out of my demo CDs, so that when ever I bumped into a high profile producer, I just plucked one off the bottom of my dress and nonchalantly handed it to him. Once word got out that I was there, my demo became the hot ticket and my dress quickly became a mini skirt.

Ma' Knowles emerged from a dark corner corner like an evil Skeksis and scuttled over to Beyonce and whispered in her ear while pointing over at me. Beyonce grew red with anger but tried to maintain her cool as she walked over to me. I smiled and winked, which I knew caused her to rage on the inside. She is such a sociopath clinging on to that mask of sanity.

"Look, Frau," She started in quietly, "there is only room from one hoochie in the spotlight tonight, and that's me."

"Really? Does that mean Christina Aguilera isn't going to be here?" I replied. She scowled, silently looking me up and down. Then with her laser beam eyes, she quickly recorded over all of my demos.

"There you go, bitch, see how many people want a copy of Color Me Badd's come back album!" She began to cackle manically as my entourage of interested producers began to quickly disband.

"You little cunt!" I screamed as I lunged for her. I needed some quick P.R. now, and figured my beating Beyonce's ass was as good as it was going to get. Unfortunately, at that moment Tara Reid came walking in, and all of the journalists quickly focused their cameras on her tit that has just alighted from her top... again. Refusing to be defeated before I could even land a blow, I pulled Beyonce's hair so hard that I ripped it clean off her head while I kicked her to the floor. Triumphantly, like a warrior who had just claimed his enemy's scalp, I held it up for the crowd to see. This only seemed to encourage her laughter. I looked down at her bald ass laying there laughing, and then I realized that it was just a wig. I turned and ran, all the while, Beyonce's maddening laughter echoed through out my skull.

I was a distraught wreck, until a hour later, when Robbie Williams offered me some prescription drugs to console me. That began our two day bender of sex and drugs, but he couldn't keep up with the Frau. Many have tried, and they always end up in rehab after the first day. I do have to give Robbie credit for making through two days. I'll have to send him some flowers... or a carton of cigarettes.

What happens when you try and be nice...

Yesterday was the worst day ever. It all started with stupid George Clooney. He had been hounding me and hounding me for a date, so I finally caved, and we were going to meet at the IHOP in Santa Monica for a Rooty Tooty Fresh N'Fruity. So I ring up my personal assistant, and former stylist, Mary F. I tell her that she needs to go and pick up my dress from the dry cleaners. She starts to whine that her cat has run off again, and she has to stay home in case he returns. If there is one thing that works my last nerve is whiny crazy cat ladies. I hang up on her before she can start sobbing.

So I pop into the car and drive over to the dry cleaners myself. It still gives me a couple of hours to get ready, not that I'm trying to impress, but Frau never goes out on the town without looking her finest. I was just about to walk in when I bump into a frantic Angelina Jolie.

"Oh Frau! So glad I saw you, I need a favor! I need you to baby-sit this afternoon. We've just bought a house in the French Quarter and we need to go sign that papers. Will you do it?" Its hard to say no to her, after all the good works she does with those little Romanian babies... or were they Brazilian... that reminds me, I need to get a wax. I agree to help, Maddox is a good kid, and I haven't spent a whole lot of time with Baby Zathura. She gives me the address and promises it shouldn't take too long, so I won't have to stand George up. Looks like I'll have to skip the wax.

I roll up to the address she gave me at 1:00 and ring the bell. After a minute the door cautiously opens.

"Oh thank goodness, I thought you were Tom Cruise." Says Dakota Fanning as she opens the door wider. "What happened to Angelina?"

"There was an orphanage fire sale in Silverlake, kids are like half off or something. Looks like I'm going to watch you for a couple of hours." I reply, quietly damning Angelina and her trickery. I walk in and plop down on the sofa when little Elle walks in. She gives me a defiant stare down, challenging me to a silent battle of power. I hold her gaze for a minute until Dakota breaks the quiet stillness with a forced awkward laugh.

"So what shall we play?" She looks at Elle tentatively, like some beaten whore making nice to her pimp.

"I know, lets play Mary-Kate and Ashley!" I say coolly. "Elle, you get to be the anorexic one."

"Sure, and you get to be Dave Coulier." She shoots back with a scowl.

"Why you little--"

"Lets just play something else!" Dakota interrupts before I can finish my thought.

"Lets play 'The Accused!' I get to be Jodie Foster!"

"Fuck that!" Spits Elle, "We're playing 'When A Stranger Calls'..." she trails off glaring at me.

"That's it, you little bitch! We're playing British Nanny!" I scream as I wrap my hands around Elle's throat and begin to shake her violently.

"Dakota...? Dakota...? Are you home?" A squeaky hobbit voice called from the front yard.

"Oh no, quiet, its Tom!" Dakota warned, terror in her eyes. "We have to hide! Quickly!"

"Dakota? Have you read that pamphlet I gave you? Its been a couple of years now, and Steven won't give me your new phone number. I just wanted to see if you had a questions about Scientology. Dakota...?" I reluctantly release Elle from my Kung Fu grip and the three of us run over to the coat closet to hide just as Tom smashes a window to gain entry.

A tense five hours pass with Tom roaming the house in a L. Ron daze periodically calling out to Dakota. Why he never looked in the closet, I'll never know. Finally, we hear John Travolta's jet plane land on the front lawn. We hear a muffled exchange, some wet kissing, and then both of them walking upstairs to the bedrooms.

"Bump this, I'm out!" I say as I alight from our hiding place.

"No," Elle quietly pleaded, holding on to my leg, "you can't leave us!"

"Like hell I can't! I've got a Rooty Tooty Fresh N'Fruity with my name on it!" Then I kicked her in the face and ran out the door.

I finally made it to the IHOP several hours later. Of course George was still there, and he was desperate and clingy, just as I had suspected. And since he paid, I felt obligated to have sex with him. Like I said, worst day ever...

It started last autumn...

Everyone has been emailing me "Frau! Frau! Where have you been? We're so worried!" Fear not my little minions, I am fine, I just had to spend the past few months in hiding. Its a long sorted story, so of course I will trouble you with it....

It all started one brisk fall evening last year. I was just leaving Sky Bar [Lindsay Lohan and her entourage of Mouseketeers fresh off their Logan's Run style elimination off the Disney Channel showed up... they'll let anyone into this place, I swear, its off my list!] when I bumped into Vince Vaughn.

"FrauBellasogladIbumpedintoyouIwasjustcomingfromPinkystheirhotdogsarenot
asgoodasthoseinWrigleyFieldbutheyIwashungryforadognotlikeabarkbarkdog
butadelicioushotdogandIheardthatthebestplaceinLAisPinkysso-" At which point I shoved my tongue in his mouth just to make his stop flapping. I mean, he is kinda cute and all, but damn, he just doesn't know when to shut up. We're then totally making out there and I start to think, damn, I bet you he could work wonders with that little tongue of his. I was just about to ask him if he wanted to come back to my place when the Aniston Demon flew down and pulled at my hair.

Fortunately for me, her cheap Lee Press on nails were no match for my Pert strong hair and they snapped off. Seriously, its a shampoo and conditioner in one, genius! She was trying to circle around for a second attempt when I whacked her from the sky with my purse. She fell to the ground making a horrible banshee wail. I turned to avoid the screeching when I saw that it was actually Fantasia Barrino filming a scene for the upcoming "Fantasia Barrino Story Two: Making the Fantasia Barrino Story Starring Fantasia Barrino."

When I turned back the Aniston Demon had returned to her human form. She was talking to Vince like they had been going steady or something!

"Vince, how could you cheat on me!" She sobbed.
"Wait, I thought you two weren't an item, then you broke up." I interjected.
"ListenBabyitsnotlikethat-" I slapped him before he could gain any momentum.
"Listen Bitch, nobody slaps my man!" She pulled a travel copy of the Necronomicon from her cleavage. So thats how she keeps those girls so perky. She begins to chant in some evil language. You could just tell it was evil because there was a Texan accent.

There was suddenly a crash of lightning on the street before me, and Heather Mills appeared, all Terminator style. She lurched at me in a quick hopping motion wielding her leg as a blunt instrument. Forturnas wheel had spun my way, as just as that moment, a belligerent Lindsay was being escorted from the bar carrying a wine glass. Apparently she had tried to smuggle in her own bottle of Strawberry Hill. I snatched the glass from her hand breaking the base off in the process. Wielding it like a Waterford Crystal shiv, I stabbed her in the throat. To my amazement, the skin around her neck was so calloused that the shiv didn't even make a dent.

"Paul had been doing that to me for years!" She cackled. So I did what any good woman would do. I tripped her. Sweeping her good leg like Johnny did to Daniel-son.

"Wax off, Bitch!" I yelled, caught up in the moment. As Heather lay defeated and crying, I turned around to see Vince and Jennifer walking into the bar.

"YouknowyouaretheonlyoneformebabyIdon'tevenknowwhatthegirlsproblem-" Jennifer then shoved her tongue in his mouth to shut him up. As I walk down the street, picking cheap nails out of my hair, wondering if I should lay low for a little while, I swear I could hear Heather calling out into the night...

"I swear, I'll get you Frau Bella!" then after a minute, "Come back here with my leg, Lohan!"