Resolution Rhymes With Pollution, Retribution, and Mental Institution

Well, 2008 is almost over.

Good. It wasn't such a great year anyway. Bring on 2009! Out with the old in with the new and all that jazz.

I'm not in a real big celebratory mood so I don't have any major plans to go out and get drunk or anything. Not like last year. Yikes, last year I rang in the new year with Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan and it didn't end so well. I mean, it was fun and all, but I did a little too much coke and drank a few too many Mojitos and the next thing I knew it was dawn and I was sitting on the curb with no underwear on and only one shoe, watching Paris's Bentley peel away as she and Lindsay gave me the middle finger. Apparently I'd managed to barf not only all over the car but also in Lindsay's purse, on Paris's hair extensions, her three little Chihuahua puppies, Brandon Davis, Brody Jenner, and the baggie of coke. Ugh, it was so embarrassing!






A snapshot from New Years Eve 2007. Check out how wasted I am. As I recall Lindsay and I had just thrown our panties at some paps when this pic was taken. Although you can't see her, Britney Spears was passed out in the backseat after swallowing forty egg rolls in five minutes. Never dare that girl to do anything crazy 'cause she'll totally do it. I lost 50 bucks!




This year I think I'll just stay in and work on my New Years Resolutions. Have you made yours yet? Here is what I have so far:


1. Become the Poet Laureate of the United States- Fuck small realistic goals like saving money or eating better, I'm ready to dream big. I've been pondering this for a while and I truly think I deserve it. Yes, most of the former poets have been serious types who write about the beauty of nature and that sort of boring crap while I concentrate on limericks about pirates but so what? True, I have no poetic talent, but why should that hinder me in the slightest?

If there is one thing I've learned in 2008 it's that talent and qualifications for a job mean zip. I mean, look at all the CEOs who ran their companies into the ground and got rewarded with gobs of cash. And if George Bush had agonized over his lack of leadership ability he'd never have gotten to be president, now would he? And Sarah Palin certainly didn't let a little thing like competency stand in the way of running for vice president, nosireebob.

So screw it! I've got great legs, a winning smile, and I know how to wink saucily. Plus, I'm willing to fuck whomever I need to get it so the job is as good as mine.


2. Contact the Dead- Yeah, this one might be a little harder to make happen but I still think it's doable. Someone I loved a lot died this year and I really want to see if I can get in touch with her. If anyone could find a way to communicate from the great beyond it would be this lady. Of course, the last time I messed around with the Ouiji Board I accidentally summoned Kurt Cobain and he's been hanging around my bathroom ever since. It's cool though. He's really quiet and just hangs out in the corner scribbling stuff on my walls and occasionally mumbling sarcastic remarks about my taste in music. Most of the time I forget he's there.

You'd think having a ghost around would be enlightening but Kurt is not exactly a wellspring of information. Believe me, I've tried asking him questions about the afterlife but he just shrugs or snorts derisively. My friend was the chatty sort so if I can get ahold of her I know she'll tell all.


3. Quit Worrying About Things I Have No Control Over- Hey, if India and Pakistan want to nuke each other off the face of the Earth they will, regardless if I fret about it or not. I'm sick of anguishing over the world's problems. I know no one asked me to, it just seems to happen anyway whenever I watch the news.


4. Make a Terrarium- I'm bad with plants - in fact I kinda have a black thumb and kill them more often than not - but terrariums seem easy enough and they look so cool.


Well, that's all I've written down so far. How about you? Got any resolutions you want to share? You know I'd love to hear them.

HERE'S HOPING YOU ALL HAVE A SAFE AND HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE!






Yar!



Oh, and thanks for asking about Jackie Waffles. He's doing great. He slept a lot after he got home but the next day he was right back to normal, spazzing around and stealing the other cats food. I don't think he's even noticed that his balls are missing. Here's his "After" picture. As you can see he looks exactly the same.




Uh oh

2008: The Year in Review in Haikus

Eliot Spitzer
fought crime by fucking hookers
bye bye hypocrite


Kucinich tried
but couldn't impeach Bush since
blow jobs weren't involved


Hillary Clinton
lost the Dem nomination
boy was my mom pissed!


They said tomatoes
made people barf, then peppers?
Salsa-less summer


Chinese Olympics
there is no way those gymnasts
were sixteen. No way!


Four bucks gallon gas
I just knew this was bullshit
and, of course, it was



The war in Iraq
went on and on and on and
on and on and on....


Twilight books/movie
shiny vampires played baseball
this is sexy? What?


Ugh, Sarah Palin
I really hated this bitch!
loved the glasses tho


Palin said God "would
do the right thing in Nov." Hah!
God thought she sucked too


So glad Barack won
too bad he'll spend all four years
cleaning up Bush's mess


Banks fucked up big time
Wall Street lost millions, got more
I pay bills, get screwed


Some guy threw a shoe
at Bush, too bad it missed him
and wasn't a bomb


How's about we try
trickle UP economics
in 2009?

Jingle Balls, Guess What Y'all, Jackie's Getting Clipped

Thank goodness Xmas is over!

I don't care much for the holidays. They are a pain in the ass and for some reason tend to make me depressed. Maybe it's because of all the overeating and drinking, or maybe being forced to spend time with my relatives? Presents are always a let down too. It's such a bummer to tear open a gaily wrapped gift and find one of Rachel Ray's 30 Minute cookbooks inside. Ugh!




And now on to some breaking news.

BREAKING NEWS


I took Jackie Waffles to the vet's office early this morning to get neutered. He is seven months now which the vet says is the best time to do it. Otherwise they start spraying pee everywhere, marking their territory.


Here is a BEFORE pic of Jackie with balls.


Too sexy for his collar.


Hopefully all went well. I'm supposed to pick him at 4:00.

Something tells me he's going to be pissed.

Wishing You a Merry Whatever It Is You Celebrate

Hiya friends! Pru here.



You know, my days are so busy - what with all the dancing and smoking and flirting that I do - that I don't always get a chance to answer my comments or visit your blogs the way I'd like. But don't go thinking that I don't appreciate you, 'cause I do.







Now that the holidays are upon us, I'd like to take a moment to let you all know just how much you mean to me. So I wrote you a couple of poems.


Oh blogger pals, my blogger pals! 2008 is done
It's kinda been a sucky year but at least you guys are fun.
I love your wit, your pretty pics, and the stories that you've shared.
Your comments cheered me up a lot, it's nice to know you cared.
I wish you joy, I wish you bling
and lot's of happy days ahead.
Please don't tell my mom that I showed you my boobs
or else she might fall over dead!








I thought that I would never see
a blog so cool as thou's and thee's.
It's hard to pick the very best
suffice to say they all impressed.
And the best part of my day
is reading what you have to say.
Poems are made by fools like me
but only you can....um....let's see..
rhyming is too hard...I'd rather paaaarty! (hic)








Oh how do I love thee bloggers? Let me count the --- what?
Dude, don't interrupt me while I'm being a poet! No, you freak, I don't want to see your candy cane!

Well....okay, show me.

Meh, I've seen better. Now where was I? Crap, I forget the rest of this poem.








Well, you know what I'm trying to say right? I love you all and I hope you have a groovy and wonderful holiday! Cheers!

The Prunella Jones Story starring Anne Hathaway as Pru

Today's episode: WINTER DOLDRUMS




Oh winter! How drab and dull it can be. I put on a pretty dress and drank some coffee but still....I feel the need for a little pick-me-up.





I know! I'll sniff a little glue! Yeah! And maybe a can of computer duster! Hell, make that three cans! That ought to do the trick.






Oh my God, that's so sweet! I feel like I'm walking on sunshine.





The colors......it's so magical. It's like..um....wait a minute...there's spiders! All over me. Eeeekkkk, get them off! Oh God! Wait.....what?

Interview With a Blogger

Yay! A new meme!

This one comes from the Princess of the Universe. It's basically a five question interview. I signed up for it because it looked like fun. These are the questions she sent me:




1. So are you totally waiting by the mailbox everyday for the prize I owe you? How long before you devote an entire post to how much of a slacker I am??

Oh yeah! (I won a prize on her blog for describing my favorite sexual fantasy, which involved banging Johnny Depp on top of a pile of money.)

Where is my prize, dammit? I need that prize! All I ever get in the mail is bills and junk. That's why I hardly ever check it, except on Fridays when my mom's People Magazine is delivered. You'd better quit that slacking, Vi, or you'll turn out like me - a person whose idea of success is remembering where she put her car keys.



2. I haven't heard anything about the Boobie Barn lately- why don't you tell me what's been going on?


Ugh, The Boobie Barn. What a wretched place that is. Well, it's true I haven't mentioned it in a while. Mostly because it's just the same thing night after night. I get up there and dance my heart out and no one cares. They just yell stuff like, "Open your legs, sweetie!"

I'm an artist! I'm the reincarnation of Josephine Baker! I put a lot of thought into making my routines a glorious treat for the senses, but still make about the equivalent amount of money as any one of the uncoordinated bitches who bumble around to their same old tired Bon Jovi songs. The audience just doesn't care as long as there is nakedness involved.

Dancing has not been nearly as much fun since my helper monkey, Tucksworth, was banned from the club.

Speaking of my old friend Tucksworth, I just got a Christmas card from him and he's doing well. In fact, he got married. Here's the pic he sent:


Aren't they a lovely couple?



3. Is Karl still hanging out in your bathroom?

Oh yes, Karl the Sleestack is still in my bathroom. He likes my linen closets, you can always hear him hissing and wandering around in there. I mostly ignore him. He doesn't bother me anymore. He did at first, of course. For a while I devoted most of my energies to figuring out a way to get rid of him. I consulted with my local Wiccan group and we cast a few spells to try and send him back to the great beyond. None of them worked obviously. I don't know why I bother with these Wiccans. They aren't very effective. This same group has been trying to cast spells for the past eight years to get rid of George Bush with no success.

And now I have a different problem. Actually, it's not so much a problem as a weird situation. Now I've got the ghost of Kurt Cobain living in my bedroom. I'm not sure how he got there – it may have been one of those conjuring spells gone wrong – but he doesn't seem too interested in leaving. He just hangs out slouched in the corner, wearing ripped jeans and a flannel shirt with his hair hanging in his face, mumbling and scribbling on the wall. He hates my taste in music and my occasional (once every full moon) cleaning rampages, but other than that we get on well.



4. How's the Jessica Alba stalking thing going?

I'm glad you asked that. I hadn't seen Jessica for a while so I figured she'd given up but then I looked out my window this morning and saw this:



Dang, it was really chilly out there too and she was wearing nothing but her underwear and an old beat up pair of Ugg boots of mine that I'd thrown in the trash. I was all, "Jessica! Please go home! And put some clothes on before you freeze!"

From next door I heard my neighbor Roy scream, "Nooooo, don't!" I guess he was really enjoying the view.

She hollered back that she reckoned she was going to have to kill me. Mmmmhmmm. And then she showed me the Sling blade she was going to do it with. You know, most people calls it a Kaiser blade, but I call it a Sling blade. Whatever, I don't want it used on me.

Anyway, she's still out there wandering around muttering to herself and spitting water on my ferns. It really sucks because I was planning to go out to lunch. Now I guess I'll have to stay in and eat a peanut butter sandwich or something.


5. Has your mother taken any more classes lately? If not, can she write us a story? I know she quit the Creative Writing class and all, but please????

Well, my mom is in San Diego right now, but I'm sure she'll be happy to write another story when she gets back. Or maybe not. She's been busy with the new guy she's been seeing. She likes him because he takes her to Red Lobster every week. I think his name is Alan but I can't remember for sure. I call him Cowboy-Businessman.

My mom thinks that's rude and maybe it is, but may I point out that he:

1. Wears a cowboy hat and boots.

2. With a 3 piece suit.

3. Is, in fact, a businessman.

Anyway, I don't call him that to his face. I do have some manners! Just not that many.



Okay, that's it.

Shall we keep this meme going? Want me to interview you? (You know you do!) If so, tell me in the comments and make sure I have your email address. But remember, I get to ask the questions and I'm very, very nosy. Also, you are supposed to post the answers on your blog. Them's the rules!

I Need Prescription Drugs and Lots of Them

Sometimes it seems like my life is rushing past me way, way too fast.

- What? You mean I'm this old and I've never been to Brazil? Or Hawaii? How can that be?

Other times it feels like life is very, very ssslllooooowwww and much too long.

- What? You mean I'm going to have to endure another forty of fifty years of this shit?


Just lately I've been experiencing the latter feeling. Probably because it's wintertime and I'm not getting enough sun or something. Tennessee is a beautiful state and December here is lovely in it's own way, but I really don't care much for cold weather.

Of course, for me cold weather is anything under 65 degrees.

That's the main thing I miss about living in southern California. Year round warmth and sunshine.

Well, that and taco trucks. And In-N-Out Burger.

My mom is so lucky to be kicking back enjoying the mild breezes in San Diego right now while I'm freezing my butt off here in Icicleland.

Speaking of my mom, I saw her doppelganger again the other day. There is a lady here in the neighborhood who looks a lot like her. It's really uncanny how much they look alike. I've actually mistaken her for my mother once.

You may recall (or most likely not) a blog post I wrote this summer about the time I spotted this lady while she was taking a stroll down the street and - assuming it was my mom - drove up behind her and yelled, "You'd better shake that ass a little faster, old woman!"

Gah, I'll never forget her shocked look and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I realized she was not who I thought she was. Oy vey! I didn't say anything else, just gunned the car out of there because I was worried she'd call the cops and accuse me of sexual harassment or something.

Since then I've seen this lady twice more, both times while in the middle of embarrassing circumstances. Like, a couple of months ago I was pulling a lamp out of a neighbor's trash can - hey! It was still good and had some pretty details! - I looked up and saw her staring at me as she walked her dog. She immediately turned in the other direction, yanking the dog away from some juicy piece of poop he was sniffing so fast that he yelped and I slunk away with burning cheeks. D'oh!

Then one day not long after that, I was barreling down the street with my windows rolled down and the CD player cranked up, singing along at the top of my lungs with a punk song whose lyrics go like this:

I'm not crazy - in an institution
You're the one who's crazy - in an institution
You're driving me crazy - in an institution

I was really belting it out and banging my head along enjoyably when I noticed her dog - a hard to miss beautiful white Afghan Hound - and sure enough, d'oh, there she was holding the leash and gaping at me with horror.

Anyway, I'm only mentioning this because I saw her yet again today at the grocery store while I was taking pictures of some oranges.

Geez! I cannot catch a break with this broad!

While we eyeballed each other across the fruit isle I considered going up to her, introducing myself and explaining about how she resembles my mother and that was the reason I yelled that stuff about moving her ass, and how I'm not really a weirdo lunatic, I'm just photographing the oranges so that I can add glitter graphics to them and use them in a Sparkletown story for my blog and yadda yadda etc.

I pictured us laughing about it and getting to be great friends and how the next time I saw her out walking I'd holler out, "Ooo girl, shake that money maker!" just to tease her.

That would have been nice, eh? Too bad she raced off before I could get over there.

I sort of felt like chasing after her screaming, "I'm not crazy, really!" but at this point I don't think she'll believe me, do you?

Fuck, when is Spring going to get here?!


Oh, and I decided to delete Saturday's post with the pet ecard. Every time I clicked over those damn cats would start yowling Jingle Bells and it really got on my nerves. It's still a cute thing to email though. Go here if you want to make a Christmas greeting with your pet's (or yours) picture. However, I don't suggest posting it on your blog. Too noisy.

I've Recently Come To The Following Conclusions:

1. It's about ten years too late to party like it's 1999.

2. I used to be able to rock-n-roll all night, crash for a couple of hours, function fine all day, and then do it again the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Well, not anymore.

3. I just want to sleep! And watch TV....while napping.

4. I am officially an old person.


Now pass me that bag of Werther's Originals, dadgummit!

A Sparkling Tale

Hello friends. Welcome to Sparkletown. My name is Fairy Pru and I'll be your guide. So what are you waiting for? Grab a pair of sunglasses and let's go.









Here in Sparkletown we love music. My sister Tequila and I have a rock band and we call ourselves The Tweeters. At least, that's the new name. We used to call ourselves Shitney Beers but it turns out there was already a band with that name. Who'd a thunk it, huh?

Playing in a band gets you lots of admirers. That's where I met my friend Tiny Elvis. He may be a little squirt but gosh he sings well!









I like Tiny El a lot except for the way he's always hitting on me. He just won't seem to take no for an answer. I have to admire his persistence even though I'm not really interested. You see, I'm a very good girl and I already have a boyfriend.











My boyfriend, Hagathor Von Birdner III, is the coolest guy in Sparkletown. Well I think he's cool anyway. My friends are always saying that he looks like a total douchebag but may I point out that he:

-- always brings me flowers.

-- takes me to the hottest places.

-- drives all the other fairy chicks wild.

-- he doesn't always wear the gangster bling, okay? He just wears it once in a while for fun. Don't give me that look! At least I got rid of his pimp cup.








I'm really a very lucky girl -- what's that Butterfly Bob? My fiancee was spotted in the big city getting cozy with notorious man thief Fairy Angelina? What??? I don't believe it! Show me!









OMG that bitch! How dare he make a fool out of me! I'll kill them both!











It's not fair, Bob. I gave that jerk the best two months of my life! Why would he do this to me? Why? At least he left his bag of weed here. C'mon, let's smoke it all up while we destroy these crappy discount flowers he sent. I can't believe I wasted so much time with that loser.

(puff, puff)

I wonder what he sees in her. Just because she's gorgeous and slutty and tattooed....(puff)....you know, Bob, I used to think it was blondes that had more fun but now I see it's actually the sluts.








Well, two can play at that game! I can be slutty too! In fact, if I don't jump right back in there I might end up sitting at home playing with a Dollar Store coloring book and glitter graphics or something goofy like that. Ewwww that would be lame! No way!!!!


Hey there, stud. What's going on? Tee hee.

Home Alone: The Prunella Jones Story

Yes, it's time once again for another installment of The Prunella Jones Story starring Britney Spears as Pru. Today our plucky young heroine finds herself all alone, much like McCauley Culkin in that kiddie movie where he slapped both hands on his face and screamed adorably.






Guess what, y'all? I just dropped my mom off at the airport. She's gone to visit my brother in San Diego for a month or three. Do you know what that means? It means I have the house all to myself for the first time in ages.






It's so cool! Freedom! Now I won't have to hide in the closet to smoke pot! Woot!






She's been living with me for so long now I'd almost forgotten what it's like to be alone. I'm so used to having her around nattering on and on and on - she loves to chatter - that the place seems unnaturally quiet now. Not that I ever listened to her, mind you. It was more like a soothing background noise. Sort of like the teacher talking to Charlie Brown in those holiday specials, "Womp womp a wompa womp." All I'd have to do was throw in a "yes ma'am," or "uh huh" once in a while and we were good. Strange, but I'm kinda missing that.

Although now I can wander around the house in nothing but a fake fur coat, eating Doritos dipped in cottage cheese and flash the neighbors without having to hear a lecture on good nutrition or the necessity of bras. Seems like a pretty good trade off.





In fact, now I'll be able to crank up the music as loud as I want when I'm singing and dancing along with Toxic and pretending to be a contestant on America's Next Top Model. It's hard to practice smiling with your eyes and pouting in the mirror when someone is complaining that she can't hear Oprah.

I'm gonna shake my moneymaker! Shake, shake, shake!






OMG y'all, I just realized that I won't have to slut around town anymore. I can get my freak on right here in my own home like any normal, grown up slut who doesn't have a 62 year old, Martha Stewart-obsessed roommate. I can totally turn this place into a sex dungeon if I want to. Hmmmmm. Where did I leave that whip? Oh yeah, it's over at John Mayer's house. Duh!







You know, I love the woman to death. I really do, but she kinda......cramps my style if you know what I mean. (wink, wink)

I'm really going to enjoy having this dump to myself. Maybe Mom will stay in San Diego till Spring. Heh heh, party at Pru's house tonight!







Well, I'm off to take a shower now and....wait a minute, the shower is looking a bit mildewy. Ewwwww. And it looks like there aren't any clean towels. Hey MOOOOOOOOM? Oh crap.....she's not here. It looks like I'm going to have to do all the housework by myself. That sucks! Me no like cleaning! What day does she get home again?




Will Prunella turn the house into a sex dungeon? A really filthy one since she hates to clean? Will her mother return to find the house littered with random kinksters handcuffed to the wall and a whole lot of dust? And which would upset her more?

The answers to these questions and more will probably not be found in the next episode of The Prunella Jones Story. But y'all come on back anyway, okay?