Monday, January 28, 2008

She Bangs

Ho hum. I haven't blogged much lately, mainly because there is nothing much going on here. Well, besides Tucksworth going on a speed binge and Britinia threatening to kick my butt good. I haven't seen Tucks in over a week, but I did receive a strange note in my mailbox yesterday. Here is what it said:



Here is the picture they sent. Those bastards! They are ready to fry his little monkey ass.

Isn't that weird? Someone is holding Tucksworth hostage! I have notified the police and they are working on it as I write this. Poor Tucks, I hope he is staying strong. That picture gave me chills. It reminds me of Lindsay Lohan in that craptastic torture movie I wasted ninety minutes watching I Know Who Killed My Fake Twin Sister. And the worst thing is I have no idea what they want me to do, much less when I should do it! Do you?

In other less worrisome news, I got my hair cut the other day and it looks terrible. I knew that would happen, that's why I only get a haircut once every three years or so. I got five inches cut off the back which went okay but for some reason I lost my mind and asked for bangs.

I asked for long, sexy bangs like Kate's.

These are the bangs I got.

Why do hairdressers always do this? You show them a picture of what you want, and state clearly that you don't want your bangs to be too short and they still make you look like a contestant in the Special Olympics! As usual I didn't protest, just tipped her well and went home seething. Well, I guess it will grow. I'm glad that's over with anyway. Now I don't have to bother with another haircut until 2011.

And lastly -- my mommy has left me! She took off to go slut around Florida until the weather in Tennessee warms up. As much as I have complained about having her around and how she gets on my nerves, I find myself missing her. Way more now as an adult than I ever did when I left home at eighteen. What's up with that? Also, it appears that the guy she drove down to Florida with is a total dipshit. I've only met him a few times and I was going to reserve judgement, but as they drove off I noticed his car was covered in Fred Thompson '08 stickers.

I guess I just need more help nowadays. After all, no sooner did she leave then my monkey overdosed on Adderall and got kidnapped by crazy vivisectionists, and I got a really hideous haircut. Come back soon, Mom! I worry about you off in Florida with a dipshit! Plus, well.... the shower is starting to get kinda mildewy. Hey, it's not going to clean itself, you know?

Friday, January 18, 2008

Monkey on the Loose!


Owning a monkey is a big responsibility. It's a lot of work to keep them healthy and happy. They are like children, really. I guess it's been awhile since I've blogged much about Tucksworth, the pet monkey who used to assist me with my exotic dancing act. As you may remember, he's been very unhappy since I've been forced to leave him home. Poor Tucks loved getting dressed up in his little tuxedo and performing, even if it was just in a skanky gentleman's club for an audience of drunken frat boys too busy throwing up on each other to pay much attention. With nothing much to do all day besides terrorize the dog he turned to alcohol, and when the vet put him on Antabuse and he could no longer drink, he became a total pothead.

I guess I should have put a stop to it right away, but I was feeling pretty down myself for a few weeks. Tucks and I spent most of the month of December curled up on the couch smoking weed, eating pizza, and watching reruns of Friends, and every trashy show offered by VH-1. (We both enjoyed Rock of Love BTW. Heather was robbed!) Even though it wasn't exactly happy time, it was nice to hang out together. I felt like the two of us really bonded. I promised him I would find a place where we could perform together again, and he agreed to quit slipping cat turds into my mom's oatmeal. Things were boring but peaceful.

That is until my pot dealer's parents got divorced and he had to move to Atlanta with his dad. Now that he's gone I don't have any connections and Tucksworth is bummed. Seriously bummed. Nothing has worked to cheer him lately, not even visits to the zoo to laugh at the caged monkeys which he normally loves. He wouldn't even get out of the car. He just sat there in the back seat, fondling an empty packet of Zig Zag rolling papers. I knew I had to do something. I couldn't take his baleful stares anymore, not to mention the way he'd been shitting in my bed.

So anyway, yesterday I took him to the vet who prescribed Prozac and more Antabuse to keep him off the sauce. It's expensive but very necessary since I can't find any marijuana. A stoned monkey is a mellow monkey, but Tucksworth is a really mean drunk. The last time he went on a bender he broke every dish in my house and shaved a swastika on the back of the neighbor's cat. They didn't appreciate that as you can imagine. The neighbor lady still flips me off whenever she sees me.

Gah, it is so hard to deal with an addict! I thought we were having a good day but I was wrong. Here is what happened. We got his scrips, along with my Adderall filled at Target and then stopped by the video store to rent some movies. Tucksworth refused to take his medicine unless I bought him some Captain Crunch cereal so I swung by the Kroger on the way home. As we walked into the store I noticed he was looking a little glassy eyed and sweaty, but before I could really examine him we ran into the one person I had hoped to never see again, Britinia.

Remember her? The terrible dancer who made me leave Classy Earl's House of Class and Tits? Damn, but I hate her! Working at The Boobie Barn has been so humiliating! I itched to slap her smarmy little face. Instead I just nodded at her and turned to walk away as I have good manners, unlike her hillbilly self. Everything would have been fine if she hadn't decided to ram her cart into mine and confront me.

"Hey you, bitch!" she scowled. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. I heard you been sayin things about me around town what ain't true. You been spreadin lies that I'm the one what contaminated the stripper poles at Earl's with pubic lice. That wadn't funny cause it ain't me I swear! Now all the other girl's keep spraying Lysol on me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, giving her my best disdainful look. "You're crazy."

Tucksworth was starting to get really agitated. He began jumping up and down in the cart and hooting.

Britinia, thrilled to see me.

"Don't you call me crazy," she said, getting right up in my face. Her cigarette breath was awful and up close I could see her teeth were orange with crusted cheetos. "I'm the best dancer in town. Everybody loves me, while you're just a scrawny loser with a monkey who stinks! Why don't you put a diaper on that thing?" She gave me a small shove which sent me reeling backwards. I am basically pretty wimpy and Britinia has the strength of ten loonies. It was looking bad for me till Tucksworth jumped in between us, chattering and screeching and acting really wild.

"Ewwwww," she taunted. "You think you're so hawt, Prunella, but you cain't even get you a smart monkey. This here one is a retard!"

I guess it was that last insult that did it. Tucksworth can't stand to be made fun of. With a high pitched cry he flung himself at Britinia and started attacking her weave in a frenzy, pulling out fistfuls of hair.

"Aaaaaah, get it off a me!" she wailed. I tried to grab him but Tucksworth was incredibly worked up. He grabbed my purse and started beating her about the head and shoulders with it.

The manager of the store and several workers rushed over to us. "Miss, you've got to control that ape," he hissed as he struggled to capture the flailing monkey. Tucksworth easily evaded him and started running up and down the store screaming and throwing cans at the customers. "Does he have rabies or something? What's wrong with him?"

Good question. I couldn't believe what was happening. Sure, Tucks has his moments but he'd never gone berserk before. Usually he'll just fling a little poo when he gets mad and that will be the end of it. I winced as I heard glass shattering and what sounded like a few small explosions coming from the back of the store. What could possibly have caused this?

I got my answer when I spotted an empty prescription bottle of Adderall with my name on it on the floor. That little bitch must have snuck the meds out of my purse and downed the entire bottle when I wasn't looking. No wonder he was freaking out. He was on speed! Quite a bit of speed. I explained to the police and animal control people what must have happened but he'd already escaped.

Britinia vowed to get me as the ambulance hauled her fat ass off.

Damn that monkey and his substance abuse!

Monday, January 14, 2008

Me Tag You Long Time

I got tagged by Memphis Steve to do the 8 Things You Might Not Know About Me thingie. You know the one.

Here are the rules--1) Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves. 2) People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules. 3) At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. 4) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

I've done this one before; I think everyone who's been blogging for any length of time has done this one a few times at least. But you guys pretty much know everything there is to know about me. Geez, I've even shown you my boobs! So I'm thinking I might do this one in haiku form. It's more fun that way. Well, it's more fun for me at least.

I Get Mad
Sometimes I get so freaking furious
that I feel like setting something on fire
I usually just cuss though.

Dance Bitches
Whenever I feel like dancing
I put on The Strokes Is This It
and pogo wildly around the room.

I was born in 1756 and fucked all the founding fathers
Washington was my favorite cause he could go all night
plus he looked hawt in his wig.

A Word of Advice
When your dildo boss gathers everyone together for a mandatory meeting
don't stand behind him miming like you are sucking cock while he blathers
he might fire you.

Crossing Over
If you use a psychic to try to contact me after I'm dead
and I say, "Help me! I'm burning! Burning!"
then I'm probably in heaven, you know how I kid.

If everyone had a goldfish bowl for a head
I'd fill mine with sea monkeys
goldfish are for serious people.

When I Write My Memoir
The book of my life will start off with this line:
"I blame Oprah for causing my nervous breakdown"
so what if it's not true, I belong to the James Frey school of memoir writing.

Oh my beloved, oh my stinky, stinky cheese
your soft, fatty goodness is the reason I can't be completely vegan
I never thought I'd love something that stinks like the devil's asshole.

Okay, there you go. Now for the tagging part. I'm not going to tag eight people because following the rules is a drag. Screw rules, man! Instead I'm tagging everyone who is currently wearing underwear to do these eight things in haiku form. And if you are not wearing underwear then you have to do it twice, you big slut!

Sunday, January 13, 2008

When Will Oprah's Reign of Terror End?

I don't know if I've mentioned it before but I really like Converse shoes. They are pretty much the only sneakers I wear. I just bought a cute, pale pink pair because I'm sick of all this drab winter darkness. I put them on this morning to break them in and then set about making myself a healthy juice of apples, carrots, and spinach. Yum yum. I'm doing pretty well on the vegan diet resolutions. I had just taken a mouthful of this drink when my mom entered the kitchen and says the following:

"Oh there you are, honey, I need to ask you a question. When you go to the bathroom do your turds float? Because a doctor on the Oprah show said that means your turds are full of fat which is bad."

One thing about apple, carrot, spinach juice is that it's very staining when you spit it all over your new shoes.

Fuck you, Oprah! You owe me a new pair of sneakers!

P.S. I had never considered what my turds did after I deposited them in the toilet but I checked and it appeared that they kinda sank. Or at least didn't float.

Monday, January 07, 2008

Let's Make Lists

5 things I wrote about my boss on the wall of the employee's bathroom before I got fired

1. Kevin is a dildo.

2. Kevin is a fuckweasel.

3. Kevin likes to fart in his hand and then sniff his fingers. I've seen him do it.

4. For a good time call 1-800-ISUK-HARD ask for Kevin.

5. There was a young man named Kevin.
Who had an I.Q. of eleven.
He would fart in his hand
and sniff there quite grand
as he thought that his farts smelled like heaven.

8 things I call my mother besides mom

1. Mumsy

2. Senora Sassy Ass

3. The Amazing Rump Shaking Granny

4. Old Hag

5. Old Bag

6. Sexy Sarah the Sluttiest Old Bag in Nashville

7. She Who Once Flogged Me with a Dishtowel When I was Eight for Calling Her Meatloaf Puketastic

8. Sarahalious Definition Make Old Men Go Loco

5 things people were googling when they found my blog

1. Shirley Manson pooping

2. jello boobs

3. satan in a thong

4. poopsock

5. how to make my prunella cream

7 possible things that could be making those creepy scratching noises on my bedroom window at 3:00 A.M.

1. the wind moving a tree branch against the glass

2. a man with hooks for hands and rape on his mind

3. rabid raccoons

4. zombies

5. my doppleganger coming to murder me and assume my identity

6. there is no noise I'm imagining it

7. a clown

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

How I Started Out 2008 by Prunella Jones

2:00 P.M.

Ugh, morning everybody. It's a bright and shiny new year, isn't it? One of my resolutions was to start getting up earlier, and spend no more than one hour sitting around in my underwear, scratching myself and staring into space. Looks like I'm off to a great start!

3:15 P.M.

Mmmmm this watermelon is good. Not quite as tasty as a pop tart and a giant coffee from Starbucks of course, but healthy. I vow to be a much healthier Prunella this year. That means I'm going to stick to my vegan diet, exercise, quit drinking, and only snort Adderall once a week. Well, no more than twice a week. Okay, okay, three times a week but that's all!

5:30 P.M.

Time to do some chores. I hate having to line dry my silky underthings, but I've learned the hard way that you just can't throw $400 panties in the dryer. (sigh) Tucksworth, quit screaming in my ear. That guy with the binoculars peeking over the fence is just our neighbor Frank. Hi, Frank!

8:00 P.M

There is nothing more fun than driving around town in my hot little car. Weeeee! Too bad it's so cold today. Brrrr!

9:45 P.M

Now Tucksworth, behave yourself in this hipster coffee shop. No hooting, screaming, biting, or poo flinging, please! And back off this banana, it's mine. I ordered you a plate of chilli cheese fries and a Dr. Pepper. I know you have the munchies, but just chill out till it gets here.

2:00 A.M.

Early to bed and early to rise, keeps a girl from having cellulite on her thighs, right? Something like that anyway. I'll just do a bit of yoga first. I have to keep my back limber so it won't go out on me again. This posture is called "the bridge to paradise." I either learned it from the new Carmen Electra workout video or the Kama Sutra, I forget which.

Happy New Year!