Dear friends, long story short, I have been waiting dutifully in line for five days to get my hands on a brand new iPhone. Well to be honest, I wasn't there the whole time, I paid some homeless guy five bucks and a carton of GPC cigarettes a couple of days ago to wait in line for me, he excitedly accepted, that Kevin Federline, he'll do anything for a carton of GPCs. So this morning, I popped back over to the store so that I could be there at 9:00 when it opened. I was surprised to find K-Fed MIA and a one Rufus Wainwright in his steed! He hasn't forgiven me for my review of his album, but really, he does sound like he is gargling jizz when he sings, and I wasn't just saying that because I loathed him.
8:15 AM
"Excuse me, but I believe this spot is reserved for me." I said politely, hoping he wouldn't recognize me, which is an impossible dream, since people are always coming up to me on the street begging for autographs and change.
"No way, sister, I bought the right to be here fair and square. Its amazing what a six pack of Keystone is worth on the street." He sassed, looking me up and down.
"Damn that K-Fed!" I cursed silently under my breath, then to Rufus, "Look, just because you are some privileged queen born into money, doesn't mean that you can bully your way in front of me. I represent the--"
"--Common Woman." He interrupted. I was going to say "Lollipop Guild" hoping the little queen would respect my reference to something Judy related, and all you have to do is lay your gaze on my sweet apple bottom and supple bosom to know that Frau is no Common Woman. So of course this little comment set me sideways, but I wasn't about to let him get the upper hand. I had to release my quick wit and give him the verbal lashing he deserved.
8:39 AM
"So I hear Hank Hightower is making an appearance at the Yum Yum Donuts. He is promoting his new "Glory-Donut Holes" this morning. I'd think you would like to be there first, you know, to get in on all the glory." I suggested.
"Whatever." he said blithely. Damn, this was going to be tougher than I thought.
8:42 AM
"Fag"
"Hag"
8:58 AM
The hour was drawing near, and I was growing desperate. There was no way that I was going to play second chair, I absolutely needed to get that iPhone first, damn it. YouTube! I could have YouTube on my phone for the love of god! My heart started to beat faster as my thoughts began to run chaotically trying to devise a plan to get this big red lobster man out of my way!
"I had to leave my condo to come to this?" I asked rhetorically. "I'd hate to come down to your level and become a BW, A basic woman, but if you don't get out of my way, it's gonna get scandalous."
"Okay, you can have my spot." He finally offered.
"Really?"
"PSYCH!" he screamed then began to laugh. I couldn't take it, so I pulled a Pumpkin, and spit my gum into his hair. But he was un-phased, his laughter growing to maniacal levels.
"You don't think I had worse in my hair? I've been to key parties at Travolta's house! Bitch please."
I was about ready to shank him (after all, what else us a girl to do?) when the front doors opened. Damn him. There was nothing I could do now, I almost didn't want the phone anymore, but I figured I could just lie about it and say I was first in line. Nobody would know otherwise. We both walked in, and I stood anxiously behind him at the register.
"Welcome to Boost Mobile, how can I help you?" The store clerk asked politely.
"Yeah I need buy more minutes." Rufus said. SCORE! This sucker wasn't even buying the phone! What an idiot! That means I wouldn't have to lie [because Frau would never lie! Lies make baby Jesus cry].
"Lindsay, where you at?" Rufus chirped into his phone after completing his transaction. "You know where I'm at. I'm just checking into rehab again." Lohan chirped back.
"Sweet, maybe we can grab lunch this afternoon." He replied before skipping out of the store.
"Miss, what can I help you with?" the clerk asked me.
"iPhone! I want the iPhone! Give it to me, NOW!!!" I impatiently demanded.
"Sorry Miss, you can only get that through AT&T right now."
"Nooooooooooooooooo!" I screamed, as I fell to my knees. "Damn you Steve Jobs!"
Friday, June 29, 2007
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Call Me
So its official, I put the squash on my Jem cover band, Tori Amos kept talking to imaginary creatures on her keyboard, refusing to practice around them, and I'll be damned if Bjork's Misfits cover band didn't work the the shit out of the music tent and the Tri-State Fair grounds last month. It was too be expected, as Bjork and Beer Battered food just compliment each other so easily. Like Chocolate and Peanut Butter.
I entertained the prospect of a Carrie Nations revival, but it looks like original "Z-man" Phil Spector is going to be busy producing Paris Hiltons come back album. I hear the early title is "The Parisskank Redemption." So I'm done with singing, aside from my intimate solo work at The Broadway, but that's really just for the true fans. I like to give back to them.
So with my band officially dissolved, I was directionless. I didn't know where to go, or what to do. I was just left standing, alone in a world that's so cold. Well it wasn't that cold, but it has been a little overcast in the mornings, but I'm usually in bed sleeping it off, so that's not really standing, let alone in a world that so cold. With nothing better to do, I went into the local T-Mobile Shoppe to pay my bill, when inspiration struck me. Technically it was a Sony Erickson, and it hit me square in the noggin. I turned to see Naomi Campbell standing next to the display. The glass had been smashed and she was frothing at the mouth. Apparently her primal instinct had kicked in and she was chucking phones like ninja stars.
I dove behind the counter and tried to confront the scared store clerks as they cowered in terror. I assured them that she would run out of phones in a minute, and simply move on, that was her nature. To my horror, they informed me that they had just received a delivery and that Naomi could have enough ammo to last almost an hour. Clearly this would not do, as I had a lunch date with Jake Gyllenhaal.
I had to take action, as Frau is never that late to a lunch date. Its one of my mottos, never be that late to a lunch date. Of course you want to be a little late, you know, keep'em waiting and all. But not too late, because you never know when Kirstin Dunst is going to be lurking behind the decorative plants, waiting for the right moment to swoop in and declare the territory as her own. The bitch. And nobody wants Kirstin's sloppy seconds. I leapt from behind the counter and flew across the store, all Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon style and kicked Naomi in the head. She went down like Kate Moss on a cocaine covered Pete Doherty.
The store clerks all carried me on their shoulders and declared me their savior, just as Catherine Zeta-Jones walked in and awarded me with the key to Wales. And that was when I decided my true calling was to become a vigilante. Well, for a couple of hours at least, until I found out that I couldn't find an invisible jet. Totally Lame. So I threw out my Feminum bracelets, and the magic lasso I had weaved with the hair I pulled out of Criss Angel's hair brush.
What's the point, really, if you don't have an invisible jet to travel in?
I entertained the prospect of a Carrie Nations revival, but it looks like original "Z-man" Phil Spector is going to be busy producing Paris Hiltons come back album. I hear the early title is "The Parisskank Redemption." So I'm done with singing, aside from my intimate solo work at The Broadway, but that's really just for the true fans. I like to give back to them.
So with my band officially dissolved, I was directionless. I didn't know where to go, or what to do. I was just left standing, alone in a world that's so cold. Well it wasn't that cold, but it has been a little overcast in the mornings, but I'm usually in bed sleeping it off, so that's not really standing, let alone in a world that so cold. With nothing better to do, I went into the local T-Mobile Shoppe to pay my bill, when inspiration struck me. Technically it was a Sony Erickson, and it hit me square in the noggin. I turned to see Naomi Campbell standing next to the display. The glass had been smashed and she was frothing at the mouth. Apparently her primal instinct had kicked in and she was chucking phones like ninja stars.
I dove behind the counter and tried to confront the scared store clerks as they cowered in terror. I assured them that she would run out of phones in a minute, and simply move on, that was her nature. To my horror, they informed me that they had just received a delivery and that Naomi could have enough ammo to last almost an hour. Clearly this would not do, as I had a lunch date with Jake Gyllenhaal.
I had to take action, as Frau is never that late to a lunch date. Its one of my mottos, never be that late to a lunch date. Of course you want to be a little late, you know, keep'em waiting and all. But not too late, because you never know when Kirstin Dunst is going to be lurking behind the decorative plants, waiting for the right moment to swoop in and declare the territory as her own. The bitch. And nobody wants Kirstin's sloppy seconds. I leapt from behind the counter and flew across the store, all Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon style and kicked Naomi in the head. She went down like Kate Moss on a cocaine covered Pete Doherty.
The store clerks all carried me on their shoulders and declared me their savior, just as Catherine Zeta-Jones walked in and awarded me with the key to Wales. And that was when I decided my true calling was to become a vigilante. Well, for a couple of hours at least, until I found out that I couldn't find an invisible jet. Totally Lame. So I threw out my Feminum bracelets, and the magic lasso I had weaved with the hair I pulled out of Criss Angel's hair brush.
What's the point, really, if you don't have an invisible jet to travel in?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
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."
Thursday, March 1, 2007
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."
"'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."
Monday, February 19, 2007
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."
"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."
Friday, February 16, 2007
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.
----------------------------------
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...
----------------------------------
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.
----------------------------------
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!
----------------- 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.
----------------------------------
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...
----------------------------------
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!
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
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.
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