It was a dark and stormy afternoon...

Every Friday the 13th, I can't help but think back to the strangest afternoon I had one year, no, not when I busted up Connie Chung's human trafficking ring, but the one year when... (this is there I would insert that blurry wave dissolve, you know, the one that was so effectively used in all 1980's sitcoms to establish the start of the flashback--what happened to that anyway? I'm watching Mad Men and all of a sudden Don is staring in to space then cut to random kid in a barn with his dad getting his face kicked in by a horse, the dad, not the kid. I was totally confused. Now if they had used this simple dissolve, I would have totally made the connection... art is dead, people just don't take pride in their work... but I digress)... I was at Party City looking for a Sponge Bob piñata, but for some reason, could only find a bunch of Hannah Montana ones, which kinda makes sense, I mean, I'd like to take a stick to her. So I'm walking up and down the aisles until I finally find an employee.

"Excuse me, do you have any SpongeBob Piñatas in the back?" I ask politely.

"I don't work here, can't you see that I'm shopping for my son."

"Oh wait, don't I know you?"

"Why I'm... I'm and old friend of the Christys."

"Oh, I don't kno--," I start, but stop short when I see her kid walk out from behind her. "Oh shit!," I finish, barely stopping myself from vomiting all over the Hello Kitty candy. 

"You see, Jason is my son, and today is his birthday."

"Goddamn, I hope yer buying that kid a mask!" I look around frantically, grab a William Shatner mask, and stick it on the kids hideous face just so I don't have to look at it.

"I think yer getting your references mixed up," the woman says.

"I think you got that kids DNA mixed up, sister!" I say. Then the kid mumbles something from under the mask. I pause for a second, deciphering the words falling out of the monstrous thing's mouth, "Did that thing just say 'Kill her, Mommy?'"

"Come, dear. It'll be easier for you than it was for Jason," the woman says.

"Bump that, I just came here for a piñata. I didn't sign up for this freaky shit," I say as I turned and ran out of the store.

Later that night, while I was gluing some yellow crepe paper to a cereal box [I totally full on Martha Stewarted my own damn SpongeBob piñata], I heard on the radio that the woman went on a killing spree. Apparletly she had these gloves made out of knifes and killed a bunch of teenagers who were playing with Ouija boards while having sex and smoking pot, the teenagers that is, not the woman. I guess she also drowned that mongrel kid of hers. So it wasn't totally an unhappy ending.

... oh and my homemade SpongeBob piñata was totally tits!

Time after Time

I was down at the Taco Bell getting some Doritos Tacos (I mean really, why had this not happened sooner?!?) when I spied a very young looking Jackie Stallone. Impossible, I know, but the headband was unmistakable. 

"Yes, tis, I, Jackie." she said before I could even say a word.

"Goddamn you are psychic!" I squealed. "Quick, what are my lottery numbers!?"

"Frau, I'm sorry, I'm not psychic, I'm a Time Lord."

"But you aren't Brit--"

"We all can't be fucking David Tennant now can we," she interrupted testily. "Anyway, I am looking for a new companion to journey with me through time and space."

"Well, I do have a hair appointment this afternoon, but if you got a time machine, I guess you can still get me back in time..."

"My Tardis is parked around back, it's the blue MINI Cooper."

"What? Isn't it supposed to be a police box?" I said, sounding a little disappointed.

"How many police boxes do you see in Long Beach?" she asked rhetorically. "Do you want to do this or not?"

"I guess, sure..." I grabbed my Doritos Tacos and we were walked out into the parking lot. "So it's just like a regular old key?" I asked when she pulled a key out of her bra.

"Yes, and it--" she started to say but I bonked her on the head and snatched the key from her hand before she could finish. I popped in and drove off before she hit the ground.

... and that's the story of how I got a time machine. I don't know what happened to Jackie, I leave those time line conundrums to the nerds... and you know what, these things really are bigger on the inside... ooo, I wonder if Madonna's snatch is really a Tardis in disguise...

Pennys from Heaven

I went down to the Penny's the other day with the goal to pick up that gold thimble for Pygar, after all, his birthday is coming up and since I didn't get it for him for Christmas, I thought why not. But who are we kidding, I went back for more boots. Their clearance rack is to die for, I mean really, I'll cut a bitch for some cute boots on clearance. Oh and did I mention the 60% off sale? I know, Right?!

As I walked up, I noticed a creepy old crone standing out in front of the entrance.

"Don't go in there!" she scowled as I approached the door.

"Why, what's going on?" I inquired, excited by the prospect of some hot gossip.

"We're boycotting because they hired that lesbian Ellen as their spokesperson."

"'We?'" I said with a chuckle. "You got a mouse in your pocket?"

"Yes, me and the others," she said, pointing to another pair of trolls lurking by the ashtray. The other two scuttled over to form a line to block the door. "We're the One Million Moms, and we don't like lesbians cramming their agenda down our throats." 

 

"Well, there looks to be about three of you, and I doubt there has been anything crammed down your throats in quite a while."

"We refuse to have homosexuul values forced on us!" the one that looked like the Crypt Keeper coughed.

"Oh, okay, so you don't want 'their' values imposed on you, but it's perfectly okay for you to impose your 'values' on me? Man, talk about hypocrisy!"

"Hippo what?"

"Exactly," I scoffed "Look, I ain't got time for your triflin'! There is a sale going on, and your archaic thought processes will be dead soon enough. Now move."

They linked arms and dug in their heels defiantly. I could have easily pushed them over, but I had a better plan [and besides there were security cameras around]. I pulled a stale pack of GPC cigarettes that I kept in my bag for such occasions. As I shook it in front of them, their hungry eyes lit up like Newt Gingrich getting new wife. Then I opened the pack and scattered the cigarettes on the ground. They all hit the floor screaming and clawing at each other's faces while scrambling to grab the cigarettes.

As I sashayed by, I may or may not have kicked on of them in the face. Who cares about a little blood on my shoes, I was about to get some new ones!

Happy Mardi Gras Season!

... Santorum on yer dress...

Sh*t Frau Bella Says

Pizza Pizza

I was reading a news story about that lady who went to Papa Johns, no, not Kristy Alley on a bender, but that Lady Chinky Eyes woman. Seems like everyone is up in arms about what the Papa Johns Pizza Chef/Cashier put on her receipt. I really don't understand what the big deal is. I go there all the time, hell, I was just there last night and scored myself a large pizza and some Tuscan Cheese Sticks... those bitches were authentic too! Well, I'm guessing, all I know about Tuscany I learned at the Olive Garden [I hear that have a great culinary institute there]. Anywho, everytime I go, they never ask me for my name, but they always get my order right, and after I looked at my receipt, I don't know what the problem is...