After Hours

So I went down to the Penny's to find a gold thimble. My friend, Pygar, collects thimbles and after last year's Christmas debacle, I figured I'd keep it simple. The lady at the counter directs me to the elevator, which is all old timey with an honest to god elevator operator. He's kinda cute, and I'm totally smizing at him, but he was immune to my powers [read: queerer than a three dollar bill].

He takes me to the ninth floor, which is weird, because I don't think the building had nine floors. I exit the elevator and see there is nothing on entire floor other than a couple of busted up display cases and some raggedy Joan Collins looking mannequins. I turn to leave and see the queen and the elevator has disappeared, leaving me stranded.

"I'm glad you finally made it back, Marsha," I'm startled by a voice behind me. I turn to see that it is actually Joan Collins.

"O.M.G! Joan, I'm such a big fan! I loved you in 'Empire of the Ants!' That was some fine work you did there," I exclaim. "You know, come to think of it, I haven't see you in a while, is this where you've been hiding?"

"Yes, Marsha, you know it has been. Have you enjoyed your time living among the humans?"

"What'chu talkin'bout, Joan? You been nipping Jackie's Juice again? Unless she's got a sister named Jan, I don't know who Marsha is, and I'm most certainly not her."

"Marsha, Marsha White. You've clearly forgotten who you are. But you'll remember soon enough. You're fifteen years late, it's now my turn to live among the humans."

"Gurl, you so crazy." I say with a laugh, but my smile drops when she starts in with the crazy eyes and moving toward me. "Gurl, you so crazy," the seriousness of my words reflected in the change in my tone. Just as she was about to grab me, I totally Jackie Chaned her right in the throat, causing her to lose balance and fall to the ground, where she literally split into pieces.

"Guess that many plastic surgeries will do that to a gal," I remarked to myself. Then I saw that she was wearing a pair of Prada Boots. "No sense in letting those lovelies go to waste," I thought as I pulled them off her feet.

So I didn't get Pygar his gold thimble, but whatever, I walked out of there with a posh new pair of boots. And everyone knows, bitches can't resist a pair of boots.

Open Letter to The Donut

 

Dear Donut,

Fuck You, and all of your deliciousness.

I am wise to your plan. There you are, sitting there looking so pretty, not even a week after Thanksgiving. Tempting me after those dark days. Sure Thanksgiving started out simple enough. We had a beautiful table set up. Pygar’s deep fried turkey was delicious, and Michael Jackson’s ghost made some fantastic collard greens. I of course, made my delicious white chocolate bread pudding. Trouble brewed when Angie and Brad showed up with not only their orphanage on wheels but also that kooze Gwen Stefani, who of course was wearing her beard and their kid, but also a gaggle of her Hare-Krishna Girls [or whatever they fuck they are] in tow.

It all went down when Zahara, upon immediately recognizing that there wasn’t enough bread pudding to go around, snatched the dish and scuttled underneath the table. She shoveled handfuls of bread pudding into her mouth while holding everyone at bay with the electric carving knife. Thankfully, the battery died before she could get a quarter of the way through it. While Brad wrestled her for the knife, I grabbed the dish and ran into the bathroom.  The mood of the night had changed, and there was no turning back. So I ate it… I ate it all… and it was gooooood.

I know what I did was bad, Donut, and I’m paying for it with the 5 extra pounds I put on. But don’t think that you can temp me down that dark path again. I can see that you aren’t just a plain old glaze. I know that you are a yummi Red Velvet Donut. I respect that. But I will not let you beat me... here... now... right after Thanksgiving... on the eve of December 1st... as we careen towards Christmas with pit-stops at dozens of holiday parties filled with delicious cookies and booze.

See, Donut, you just want me to be fat. You want me to feel a shame spiral of Tracy Gold proportions. But I won't let you win. I’ve got more discipline than a German Kinkster. So I am not going to eat you, and I’ll be going to the gym now. And as you sit there and grow more stale by the minute, I’ll be running off that bread pudding. And I’ll say no to those cookies that have yet to come, because I’m better than you.

So, fuck you, Donut.

Hugz,
Frau

PS. Well, one bite won’t hurt… but that’s just me showing you the power that I have over you... right?

Gobble Gobble

Getting ready for Thanksgiving Dinner! 

 

 

Pygar is deep frying the turkey as we speak and Angie and Brad are bringing mirlitons from their garden. I made bread pudding, hopefully there is enough... lord knows I ain't used to feeding 20 kids. And I certainly don't want any of Zahara's shade if she doesn't get any. That bitch can hold a grudge like a mafioso...

  

 

How Clean is Your House... ?

Who said that our current House of Representatives doesn't know what they're doing? Well you, sir or madam, should be embarrassed at how wrong you are. That's right, our right-wing nut job Republican controlled House has proven that they are, in fact, forward thinkers!

"Whatever could you be referring to, Frau?" I can hear you asking. Sure I've bugged your place, but whatever, I got the Patriot Act on my side, fuckin' Commie!

Am I talking about how they have resolved the Heathcare Problem? Nope.

Am I referring to how they have fixed the housing market saving thousands of American's from losing their homes? Pish-posh.

Maybe I talking about how they have restructured the tax burden and not only saving the disappearing middle class but providing much needed assistance to the poor? Even Better!

Our House of Representatives has decided to classify Pizza as a vegetable! HUZZAH! Insert blasts of confetti cannons here! I mean really, who doesn't love pizza? Everyone loves pizza! This fat kid loves pizza!

Now some of you hippie liberal nay-sayers may counter with the argument that the house only pushed this through because they're in the back pockets of the American Frozen Food Institute, a group who counts Schwan Food Company amongst its members, and they know pizza! They've been serving it up to schools across America since the 70's. So clearly there is no personal interest there. But I digress...

Here is why its brilliant. Now that pizza is a vegetable, I am now selling the official "Frau Bella's Pizza Seeds" [patent pending]! Guaranteed to grow fresh delicious pizza plants in your own backyard!

So this is your chance, dear reader, to get in on the ground floor. All you have to do is send me 100 bucks for the opportunity to sell these fantastic seeds! Plus the cost of the seeds of course. Here is the best part, once you sign up, all you have to do it recruit 10 more people to sell the seeds, and you can sit back and watch the money roll in! Hello, job creation!

Like I said, now is the time to get in. I am already working on new strains of the Pizza Plant. Right now we only have the "Little Caesar" Plant, but within the next week, we should have the "Papa John" and we are hoping to have the "Pizza Hut" in two months time. 

Holla'!

The Fame Monsters

The Librarian was a little confused with my request. She was a cute little ginger wearing a hand knit sweater. I knew that she could read me as being a person of intellect [she was a thinker, as indicated by the lack of a kitten on her sweater]. That's why I think my request threw her for a loop.

"Did you say wanted to check out 'Dollhouse?'" she asked.

"Yes, by the authors Kim, Khloe and Kourtney Kardashian. Its work of fiction. It tells the story of Kamille, Kassidy, and Kyle. Sisters who bond with their fame. I mean, they bond with each other, not the camera lens of the paparazzi. That would be silly!" I said matter-of-factly.

She clicked away on her computer for a second, then said, "We have two copies. They're on the new releases shelf."

"Thank goodness," I sigh with relief as I trotted over to the new release self and snatched off both copies. "I've driven to every library in the greater Los Angeles area! I'd like to check both of these out," I said as I set the books on the counter and slid them over.

"That's a little unorthodox, Miss--" she glanced at my library card, "Miss Ciccone."

"I know, but I wanted to get a copy for my much older sister, Lourdes. That way we could both read it at the same time. It's like a book club for sisters!" I chuckle vapidly.

"Oh, uhm, okay." She seemed unconvinced but went ahead and scanned the books and slid them over to me. "Enjoy."

"Oh, I--er... we will!" I said with a smile as I turned and exited.

I walked over to my car and popped the trunk. After casually tossing the two books on the growing pile, I then drove over to a secluded part of the LA riverbed that I had been using as my base camp for the past three days. It was difficult work, but it was worth it, I thought to myself as I unloaded the trunk onto the massive pile that was comprised of nearly every copy of "Dollhouse" in Southern California. I wiped the sweat from my brow and quietly reflected on the scale of my deed. Here I was, through a simple act, saving humanity.

"I know the world may never know of what I have done here, but at least I'll know. Every time somebody is looking for a book to read, I'll know that I have given them the magnificent gift of not having a Kardashian 'novel' as an option," I said aloud as I threw the match onto the gasoline soaked books. "Burn, Kuntdashian, Burn!" I chanted as I danced around the flames.

 

I began to laugh when I thought about poor old sad old Madge getting an massive overdue book fee. Then I paused for a quiet moment of reverie. If only I had thought of this years earlier, I could have stopped that Stephanie Meyers drivel from infecting our teens and Cougar Moms. Seriously? Sparkling vampires? That's just fucking stupid...

Primal Suspect

I had the strangest conversation last night with my friend Helen [Helen Mirren for those of you who aren't in the know, Dame Helen Mirren for you Brits. We met on the set of Caligula. I was young and naïve at the time, but I'll tell you, if Polanski had edited that film, my scene would have never been cut!].

Anywho, I rang her up because I finally watched wanted the remake of "Prime Suspect" and wanted to get her take on it.

"It's rubbish," she dismissed.

"Really? I think Maria Bello is actually pretty good. I mean, of course she's no you," I added.

"Well to be quite honest, I haven't seen it," she said, her attention was clearly focused on something else.

"What are you doing? Polishing your Oscar?" I chuckled. Okay it was a bit of a forced chuckle, cut a bitch some slack, it was late and I wasn't quite on my game but felt like I needed to say something mildly humorous. I tell you what, it would have went over well with the "Two and a half Men" crowd, they're a less discerning crowd.

"Well," she started, "I have this great business idea! It's gonna be worth a million!"

"What is it this time," I asked. I swear, this bitch is always has some "money making" plot in motion, must be that Russian blood in her. I mean it, if you ever want a great capitalist idea, ask a Red! No joke!

"So, the most successful ideas are always ones that fill a void in the market. That's the key, right? Finding the void and telling people they need to fill it. Total capitalism 101, right?"

"Uh, huh," I say, already bored to tears. I really just wanted to talk about the fall TV line-up.

"One of the most profitable industries is the porn industry, and I've found the perfect void to fill!"

"Oh do tell!" I perked up, glazing over the opportunity to make a crack about filling a void. Besides, you know how much a bitch likes to talk about nasty stuff. I couldn't wait to hear what kinda freaky shit she was getting into, because what can't you find out there on the interwebs?

"So I've started making porno" she said matter-of-factly.

"Really?" I said, a bit confused. Not to slag on Helen, she is super foxy, but they already have old lady porn. This wasn't really supplying to a non-existent demand.

"Yes! I'm making pornography for asexuals!"

I was speechless and not to mention super confused. She wanted me to check out the beta website while she had me on the phone.

"OH, yes, I see," I said after I pulled up the link.

 

"So what you've done here is just pasted your picture over images in the JCPenny catalog," I observed.

"Genius isn't it!?!" her voice glowing. "I've already got 360 people signed up for twenty bucks a month, with automatic billing! And we're not even out of the beta phase yet!"

"WOW, that's fantastic! So, how can I get in on this action!?!" I asked, genuinely excited. She began to laugh, and I chuckled a little. Then I dropped my voice to a serious tone. "No, really, I want in," I said, but she just kept on laughing. I guess that answered that.

Pretty Princess

So yesterday was a beautiful day, and I figured I would take a little walk, you know, say goodbye to summer and hello to autumn and what not... that, and my ass was hurting from sitting all day long. I swear, those timeshare people are hard sellers! Of course I didn't buy one, what bitch can afford a damned timeshare in this day and age. Man, they really made me work for that free trip! Sure I was trapped there for five hours sitting in a stale non-airconditioned room, but when my ass is on Catalina Island, I'll be the one having the last laugh!

So a bitch really needed to work her stems a little bit, you know, walk it out. Anywho, I'm enjoying a nice stroll around my neighborhood when I am shocked beyond belief. Standing there, on the corner, right in front of the school, is a little midget hooker!

"Just what do you think you are doing here?" I demand as I immediately stride over.

"I'm waiting for my daddy." she answered, clearly a little put off by my directness.

"Look sister, you ain't gonna find your 'daddy' here," I said, making little air quotes when I said "daddy" to emphasize my sarcasm. "This is a classy neighborhood, and I pay through the nose to live here so I don't have to look at trash like you."

"I'm not trash, my daddy has my crown," she said in a childlike voice.

"I don't care what kind of sick sex games you have going on with your--well let's just call a spade a spade--with your PIMP!" I spit out, "But we don't want your kind of business here you filthy little freak!"

"I'm a living doll--"

"Shut your sluthole!" I said and slapped her face. Of course she started to cry like a little bitch whore. Clearly she was new to this game because she wasn't quite yet calloused and dead inside like I assume most ladies of the night are. I sighed my contempt just as a rotund woman with too much blue eye shadow waddled over.

 

"What's going on here?!" Blue-Eye Shadow demand, putting her arms around the little tart.

"Oh, so you must be the "Madame" then. Well, I was just learnin' this tramp a lesson." I said to her, then looked back to the midget. "That's right, Whoreface, I'm talking about you!"

"How dare you talk to my daughter like that! She's only six years old! We just won the 'Lil' Miss Sugar Pincess' Pageant!" bellowed Blue-Eye Shadow.

"'We?' You got a mouse in your pocket? I doubt you won the 'Lil' Miss Sugar' anything, unless it was a sugar pie eating contest. Why is a six year old standing on the corner here dressed like Julia Robert's in Pretty Woman?"

The woman scoffed, "My husband is pulling the car around, and when he gets here, I'll be calling the police on you for assaulting my daughter!"

"Oh geez," I said in a soft voice, kneeling down in front of the little girl. "I'm so sorry that your momma thought it was right to dress you like a prostitute. I should really be calling social services, and I am really sorry that--WHITE DIAMONDS" I screamed as I leapt up, throwing a handful of dirt right into that blue eye shadow, then I ran like a whore who just got caught skimming from her pimp.

As I ran, I thought about calling social services, but really, we probably didn't need to involve the authorities at this point... right? Tit-for-tat?