Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Bad Girls Go To Hell

Part 1

Sorry to have disappeared on you guys. Believe me, it wasn't intentional. It's just that I met this very mysterious millionaire who whisked me away to his private island last week, so I was busy basking in the sun, sipping fruity drinks, and having lots and lots of sex.

I meant to do a post about my whereabouts (and describe the hawt sex in detail) but right around then I found out that the millionaire had this weird, creepy hobby of hunting humans for sport right there on his island. Things got kinda awkward after that and I had a bit of a hard time leaving. He didn't want to let me go so I was eventually forced to escape with the help of a mutant flying squirrel woman and her sidekick, a gossipy Komoda dragon named Jimmy. It wasn't easy at all, but I won't bore you with the details. Suffice to say that I was very happy to get home!

Of course, no sooner did I get home then my mom started bugging me to get ready for the family reunion in Atlanta, Georgia. Ugh. Apparently I had agreed to accompany her there. She must have asked me when I was high, otherwise there's no way I would've said yes. Not that I don't love her family and all, it's just that they are a very conservative bunch of Fox News-watching Republican churchies with that smarmy holier-than-thou attitude, and spending time with them makes me want to gouge holes in my skull with an icepick.

See, this is why I prefer hanging out with my dad's family. Since most of them are alcoholics and mental patients, they are usually too busy throwing up in the sink and constructing tin foil hats to judge me. Plus, they often have good drugs and don't mind sharing - or at least don't notice when I filch them out of their bathroom cabinets.

Anyway, I knew this was going to suck, but a promise is a promise so I packed up my least slutty dress and went.

Part II

You know, I consider myself kind of a skeptical person. I don't believe in prophesy or astrology or any of that crap but I do enjoy reading books about it and love getting my palm read. Go figure.

Like I said, I don't really buy into this stuff but something happened the other day that gave me pause. I was leafing through a book of Nostradomus predictions when one of the quatrains caught my eye.

The year 2009, seventh month
a great guilting from she who bore you
summoned thusly to the foul city
to suffer there greatly of tedium and vexation.

Wow, talk about things that make you go hmmmm! These lines seemed meant just for me. Reading on, I found more quatrains that related to the family reunion. This one described the hotel we stayed at perfectly.

The place of slumber is a lie
one bed alone, stoney and unwielding
three pillows with all the cushion of a brick
the fourth, squishy as a deflated beach ball.

so true! Me and Mom had to share one crappy bed at The La Quinta Inn. But it was this one that really made the hairs on the back of my neck rise up.

The elders gather round
exchanging tales of an evil Kenyan
their fearful cries echo the chambers
"Oh my God, there's a darkie in the White House!"

Whoa, it's like Nostradomus was in the room with us or something.

Part III

"Please go easy on the drinking tonight, honey," my mom squawked at me as we pulled up to her sister's house. "In fact, why don't you stick to iced tea while we're there?"

"Let me get this straight," I snapped. "After making me drive four hours through fucking Georgia (I hate the state of Georgia) listening to your hideous Trisha Yearwood CDs, and finding out that our hotel sucks and I will have to sleep on a bed that feels like a slab of marble, you won't let me have a glass or two of champagne?"

She sighed. "One glass would be fine, I suppose, but no more. You know how you get when you drink."


"Embarrassing! And loud. And you do those cartwheels." She threw me a nervous look. "Please, please don't embarrass me at this party. Just one drink, okay?"

I was insulted of course, but grudgingly agreed. "Fine, but you owe me a Valium when this is over."

I'm wildly jealous of my mom's Valium scrip. She's tight with them too, and keeps them all for herself.

"Deal," she said. "And, you are wearing panties, right?"

"Duh!" I said.

If you'll note, that was my clever way of not answering the question.


"Can you believe the horrible things the media says about poor Sarah Palin?"

An old lady named Marjorie is talking to me as we sip our bubbly. The party tonight is for my aunt and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary so tons of their friends are there - average age 116. None of my fun cousins are attending, just the dull ones. I'm bored.

"I couldn't believe that David Letterman saying she dresses like a slutty stewardess. She always looks marvelous and so classy. Now that one - the Kenyan's wife, she wears clothes that look straight from a rummage sale. Even to meet with world leaders! She wore this one dress with dreadful stripes that blah, blah, blah...."

Listening to Marjorie is making me feel crazy. We've been here for two hours and I've already downed four glasses of champagne. I can't help it. Fake smiling can only be sustained for so long without constant reinforcement from alcoholic beverages. I try to ditch ol' Marge by walking over to bar, but she sticks to me like glue, still blathering on about the sufferings of Sarah Palin.

As you may know, I cannot stand Sarah Palin. Listening to someone sing her praises is sort of like taunting a dog by waving a piece of bacon in it's face. It's like inviting a demon to take over your body.

At that moment Satan enters my body and takes over.

"Well, you know that darned liberal media and their gotcha journalism!" I say. "Sarah Palin is the one true hope this country has. I can only pray that she runs in 2012."

"Isn't that the truth1" she nods, smiling. A couple of others drift over and chime in agreement.

"If only Sarah had run for the top spot instead of McCain, she would have won for sure and we wouldn't be stuck with that socialist Kenyan!"

My audience nods vigorously and someone starts to add something about Obama's refusal to show his birth certificate but I have warmed up to my subject now and will be pretty much unstoppable.

"What was America thinking?" I crow. "I mean, Sarah was certified witchcraft-free! I really admire her rejection of fancy book learnin' and such. The only book anyone needs is the bible, after all. It should be obvious that God doesn't want us knowing stuff. Just look at the way He kicks Adam and Eve out of the garden for eating from the tree of knowledge. Let me tell you, Sarah would never have been that stupid. She'd have shot that snake between his beady little eyes and skinned it and made it into a fashionable pair of four inch heels."

"I have a confession," I say. "It's my dream to run in 2012 with Sarah as her vice-presidential candidate. Oh, I know there are many others more qualified then me, but hey, Obama didn't have any experience and he got elected...and besides, wouldn't Sarah and I be hawt together? Having two sexy ladies like us in charge of things would surely convert the gays back to God fearing, vagina-lovers in no time."

Now, I know I'm not a pit bull in lipstick or anything. Don't I wish! Actually, I'm more like the female version of Bugs Bunny when he puts on the wig and tight sweater, but I'd be a great vice president. I can wink like a champ! And also have experience at quitting many jobs. Many, many jobs. And I have read the bible several times and often have conversations with Jesus in my head."

By now I have gotten kinda loud I guess. Everyone is staring at me. Including my mom. Taken with my own brilliance, I rush on knowing she will make me shut up in a minute.

"Jesus actually gave me some good ideas for slogans for our White House run." I say. Tell me, how do these sound?

Palin/Jones 2012: Because W. Was Not Ignorant Enough!

Palin/Jones 2012: Drill Us Baby Drill Us!

Palin/Jones 2012: We Know We're Going To Heaven. Can The Libs Say That?"

After that my mom makes me go sit in the TV room with the kids and watch Twilight.

The End


Dr Zibbs said...

Leave it to old Fur Burger to ruin your post millionaire island fun.

As for Sarah Palin, I'd do her in a second.

Dr Zibbs said...

...Not meaning it would LAST a second but ..you know.

Just wanted to make that clear.

P.S. please send photos.

Cora said...

Christ! You had to watch Twilight for talking about Palin? Republican punishment is a bitch!

xl said...

I would rather be stalked on the island by the millionaire than to go to one of my family gatherings.

diane said...

OMG, I related to everything that you said, and was cheering for you through the whole thing! Go, Pru, Go!
I bet the kids were better company anyway.


You're quite eloquent when you're sozzled, Pru.
Mightily impressed.

Prunella Jones said...

Zibbs - Now, you know why my mom is nicknamed "The Funkiller."

Are you the father of Track, perhaps? Not Trigg, we all know he's her grandson.

Cora- it was hell, all right. And that's the third time I've seen it.

XL- this may be the true reason God invented alcohol for us. I'll ask Jesus tonight when we chat.

Diane- the kids were fun. And now I know all the particulars of Nick Jonas and Miley Cyrus's relationship.

Ubermouth- it was really good champagne, not the cheap stuff.

Bill Stankus said...

Is that all you want - a millionaire, sex and drugs? And I thought you were angling for global peace a palace in Monaco or your own night club (with no cover charges) or some other lofty thing. Gee, I'm crushed.

Prunella Jones said...

Bill- no, no. I want to be president. And I will be when Sarah and I win in 2012. How you ask? Well, I have a plan. Have you ever seen the movie Showgirls? I'll pull a Nomi Malone on her and shove her down a flight of stairs a few months after the election.

words...words...words... said...

You know, my ONE condition for whisking you away to that island was that you not blog about it. And this is the thanks I get.

I was leafing through Nostradamus and saw this quatrain that might refer to your adventure:

Wind and bluster, a clanging bell
When the elders gather like dark clouds
The grape emboldens the maiden
Her wisdom ignored in exile

Prunella Jones said...

Words- I figured it would be okay as long as I didn't say your name. My bad.

BTW, the sex was great. Give me a call if you ever decide to give up your evil ways.

John Smith said...

Hmm, this is sort of like pretty woman meets isle of dr thoreau meets thelma and louise meets devil went down to georgia meets the big lewbowski meets mr smith goes to washington. You probably look better in a sarong than val kilmer, though.

Candy's daily Dandy said...

Then your mom spent the rest of the evening doing a little, ahem, damage control.

Good job Pru.

Cameron said...

You lucky shit...I'd call for a family reunion where people actually TALK. At ours, we just stare at each other for two hours. It's quite ackward.

By the by, did you get (filch) the valium?

WendyB said...

What really irritates me is that dragons are so gossipy. TELL THEM NOTHING!

Prunella Jones said...

John- you've seen a lot of good movies! And it's true that I look sexier than Val in a sarong but only just barely. That man can work it.

Candy- luckily for her the family knows I take after my dad so she gets plenty of sympathy.

Cameron- yeah, I waited til she was asleep and then grabbed three. That'll learn her not to be so stingy.

Wendy B- you are so right! Unfortunately it gets hard when they start using hypno-eye on you. I'm completely helpless before hypno-eye. Now that damn dragon is going to tell everyone my embarrassing secrets I just know it.

jeremy said...

two wrongs don't make a right. and to vaginas don't make...

actually, two vaginas sound pretty good.

Prunella Jones said...

Jeremy- for Real Americans vaginas are a true fungible commodity. But only for them. And the American soldier, God bless 'em.


Memphis Steve said...

So let me get this straight, you were at the beach at the exact same time that I was, and probably at the same beach, and yet I never saw you there naked? Totally unfair!

Lostinspace said...

What, no cartwheeling?

Lostinspace said...

Oh yeah, did you catch Shatner as beat poet on Conan? I thought of you, I really did.

Warped Mind of Ron said...

Palin/Jones 2012: A couple lap dances from world peace.

Fancy Schmancy said...

Does your mother still want to kill you? Hysterical! Good job!

Prunella Jones said...

Memphis- you didn't see me? I saw you. I thought it was very clever of you to tie that shrubbery to your head to try and camouflage yourself as a tree stump. Since you are writing this now, I guess you were successful in avoiding capture by the deranged millionaire. Good job!

Lost in Space- no cartwheeling, since I only had about four glasses of champs. Now if I'd gotten a fifth glass then...yeah.

I missed it! And now it's been taken down. Bastards!

Ron- excellent! You will now be in charge of writing our slogans.

Fancy- she'll get over it. She always does.

honkeie2 said...

I was no supporter of either side but I do not think I could take 4 years of listening to Palin speak! I would drill her Fur Burger as long as I could gag her first.

Prunella Jones said...

Her voice would indeed be a bone killer I'd think.