5 Billboards I Noticed While Driving Through Kentucky and My Rebuttals To Them
1. Jesus IS Lord
....and???
2. Hell IS Real!!!
Yes, it it. Most people know it as Kentucky though.
3. REPENT!
Make me, fucker.
4. If You Died Today, Where Would You Spend Eternity?
Sailing through various universes and dimensions. Duh.
5. Jesus Died For Our Sins!
So, give him a medal already. Geez!
3 Nicknames I Call My Mother Daily
1. Sassy Boots
2. Lady Nag Nag
3. Madam Mother
5 Nicknames I Call My Cat
1. Lard Lad
2. Big Fun
3. Johnny Fatboy
4. Fat Boy on a Diet, Don't Try It, Attack Yo Ass Like a Looter in a Riot
5. Toilet Paw Jones
The Top 5 Worst States I've Spent Time In, In Order of Shittiness
1. Georgia
2. Georgia
3. Kensucky
4. Florida (except for the beaches)
5. Arizona
12 Things I Enjoy In No Particular Order
1. conspiracy theories
2. UFOs
3. books
4. cashmere sweaters
5. eccentric people
6. trashy gossip
7. monkeys
8. contemplating parallel universes
9. cartoony art
10. ventriloquism
11. lucid dreams
12. thunderstorms
My Top 3 Favorite Legal Drugs
1. caffeine
2. Adderall
3. sugar
3 Books I Am Currently Reading and What I Think of Them So Far
1. Seth Speaks
by Jane Roberts
Trippy channeled information about death, past lives, lost civilizations, etc., written in the early 70's. I love this kind of stuff.
2. Drinking, Smoking, and Screwing: Great Writer's on Good Times
Edited by Sara Nickles
My kind of stories!
3. The Secret Architecture of Our Nation's Capital: The Mason's and the Building of Washington D.C.
by David Ovason
Just started this one, but it's already blowing my mind. Looks like astrology was a pretty big deal to our forefathers. That certainly explains why Nancy Reagan relied on that astrologer so much during the Regan era.
10 Reasons Why I Have a Sneaking Suspicion That We Are Actually Living On a Prison Planet That Is Run By an Evil Overlord Who Gets Off on Torturing Us
1. the stomach flu and every other nasty illnesses (how come there aren't any viruses that make us feel good? Wouldn't it be in their best interests to make the host happy and well? Seems like there should be at least one just according to natural selection?)
2. mosquitoes and other bitey insects
3. constant rules, regulations, and paperwork required for everything
4. cellulite
5. the fact that so many turds (example: Glen Beck) are millionaires
6. pimples
7. allergies
8. war
9. politics
10. the fact that we only live about 80 years and our teeth only last for about half that time without costly attention.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
I'm a Mean Woman Sometimes...
Not very often, of course. Most of the time I am a fairly happy and wildly optimistic person. I like to think of myself as a playful little sea otter spirit inhabiting a human body. I smile a lot and am full of jokes and good cheer. In short, I am a constant joy and a wonderful to be around**. One chick I used to dance with even nicknamed me Mary Sunshine.
Although usually she'd say it like, "shut the fuck up, Mary Sunshine. No one gives a rat's ass!"
Yeah, I wasn't too popular at The Boobie Barn. I like to talk a lot, and dancers - at least most of the ones I've met - don't like to discuss the kind of topics that get me all excited and blathering. Like, for instance, the nature of consciousness, conspiracy theories, or how on December 21, 2012, I expect us all to turn into butterfly people. For some reason stuff that fascinates me bores and irritates most of these ladies.
Once, when I tried to share my theory that the TV show "The Facts of Life" was a great allegory for our world with Mrs. Garret representing God and Blair, Jo, Tootie, and Natalie as the four archetypes of humanity, someone squirted FDS spray in my face.
(Sigh)
It's so hard being a Tootie in a world full of Jo's.
Anyway, as I was saying, I rarely get really pissed off or even cranky. But some days...well... let's just say they are the reason that I don't own a gun.
It seems like these moods always tend to coincide with getting my period. But that's probably just a coincidence, right?
I had one of those types of days recently and was told that it wasn't pretty. I don't remember what happened exactly because intense rage kinda makes me black out. (The Vicodin I took for the cramps may have - ahem - contributed to that as well). Luckily my best friend Paula Abdul was hanging out with me and she snapped a few pictures with her new camera. She just emailed them to me. Let's check them out together, shall we? Hopefully they aren't too embarrassing.
Oh yeah, I remember this. It was early in the morning and I was leaving Big Earl's after a hard night of ass shakin'. I had to hoof it as I had just smashed the windshields of every car in the parking lot with a baseball bat, including my own. (What can I say, once you get started it's hard to stop.)
That guy in the picture is my weed dealer. He told me he was out of everything except shitty dirt weed and that was still going to cost me $50, so I popped him in the face. Guess I'll have to apologize if I ever want to get the good stuff again.
Hmmm, this is from later in the afternoon when I took my car in to get fixed. I had hoped a nap and some Starbucks would sweeten my mood, but they had little effect. The bill was outrageous! Plus, that damn mechanic had a really smarmy attitude, and was probably trying to gouge me because I'm a girl and know nothing about cars, so I grabbed him by the hair and banged his head against the wall until he agreed to throw in a free oil change and tire rotation.
Meh, I don't feel too guilty about that one.
Ugh, this happened while I was driving my grandma to the laser clinic to have her tattoos removed. I should have known better. She was REALLY getting on my nerves, talking about how wonderful Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin are, and how she was going to sell her house to send them the money so they could restore America's honor or some sort of griftery bullshit. She had just gotten to the part about how she planned to move in with my mom and me, when I spotted a bag boy from the Kroger I frequent, loping happily along on his skateboard. Suddenly, I remembered the time he had put a carton of eggs and loaf of bread in the same bag as some canned goods and my rage exploded!
So, I pulled over real quick and kicked him in the face. Grandma was a little confused as to why I was beating up such a nice-looking boy who was probably single, and I wasn't getting any younger and my eggs were going to be dried up soon, etc, blah, blah, blah. In order to shut her up, I hollered out that he was a socialist who supported Obamacare.
Well, that worked really well. Too well, actually. Grandma called him a no-good, red commanist and smacked him in the nuts with her purse. Since her purse is always loaded down with about 20 prescription drug bottles full of pills (no fun ones unfortunately), several books, several more books on tape (Grandma is suspicious of CDs), a few yard sale tchotkes, and at least three shelves worth of Walgreen's pharmacy items - it probably hurt a lot. I remember he made this kind of half groan/half screaming gurgle and dropped to the ground clutching himself.
Dammit, he IS pretty cute. Hopefully he'll forgive me and is still able to have children. Thank goodness Paula was there to stop Grandma from smacking him again.
What the...?
Oh yeah, Paula must have taken that one while we were at the bar, waiting for Grandma's laser session to be over. It took a while. She has a lot of shitty tattoos.
Wow, I have no memory of this one at all and neither does Paula. Maybe Grandma took it? Where is Grandma anyway? I don't think I've seen her since then.
Oh well, no matter. See how much happier I look? My eyebrow furrows are completely gone. That just goes to show you that a little ass-kicking and a whole lot of alcohol are the very best cure for cramps.
**Exceptions include the times when I'm hungover, suicidal, feeling fat, itchy, bored, am out of drugs, or can't stand one more minute of my mother's nagging.
Although usually she'd say it like, "shut the fuck up, Mary Sunshine. No one gives a rat's ass!"
Yeah, I wasn't too popular at The Boobie Barn. I like to talk a lot, and dancers - at least most of the ones I've met - don't like to discuss the kind of topics that get me all excited and blathering. Like, for instance, the nature of consciousness, conspiracy theories, or how on December 21, 2012, I expect us all to turn into butterfly people. For some reason stuff that fascinates me bores and irritates most of these ladies.
Once, when I tried to share my theory that the TV show "The Facts of Life" was a great allegory for our world with Mrs. Garret representing God and Blair, Jo, Tootie, and Natalie as the four archetypes of humanity, someone squirted FDS spray in my face.
(Sigh)
It's so hard being a Tootie in a world full of Jo's.
Anyway, as I was saying, I rarely get really pissed off or even cranky. But some days...well... let's just say they are the reason that I don't own a gun.
It seems like these moods always tend to coincide with getting my period. But that's probably just a coincidence, right?
I had one of those types of days recently and was told that it wasn't pretty. I don't remember what happened exactly because intense rage kinda makes me black out. (The Vicodin I took for the cramps may have - ahem - contributed to that as well). Luckily my best friend Paula Abdul was hanging out with me and she snapped a few pictures with her new camera. She just emailed them to me. Let's check them out together, shall we? Hopefully they aren't too embarrassing.
Oh yeah, I remember this. It was early in the morning and I was leaving Big Earl's after a hard night of ass shakin'. I had to hoof it as I had just smashed the windshields of every car in the parking lot with a baseball bat, including my own. (What can I say, once you get started it's hard to stop.)
That guy in the picture is my weed dealer. He told me he was out of everything except shitty dirt weed and that was still going to cost me $50, so I popped him in the face. Guess I'll have to apologize if I ever want to get the good stuff again.
Hmmm, this is from later in the afternoon when I took my car in to get fixed. I had hoped a nap and some Starbucks would sweeten my mood, but they had little effect. The bill was outrageous! Plus, that damn mechanic had a really smarmy attitude, and was probably trying to gouge me because I'm a girl and know nothing about cars, so I grabbed him by the hair and banged his head against the wall until he agreed to throw in a free oil change and tire rotation.
Meh, I don't feel too guilty about that one.
Ugh, this happened while I was driving my grandma to the laser clinic to have her tattoos removed. I should have known better. She was REALLY getting on my nerves, talking about how wonderful Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin are, and how she was going to sell her house to send them the money so they could restore America's honor or some sort of griftery bullshit. She had just gotten to the part about how she planned to move in with my mom and me, when I spotted a bag boy from the Kroger I frequent, loping happily along on his skateboard. Suddenly, I remembered the time he had put a carton of eggs and loaf of bread in the same bag as some canned goods and my rage exploded!
So, I pulled over real quick and kicked him in the face. Grandma was a little confused as to why I was beating up such a nice-looking boy who was probably single, and I wasn't getting any younger and my eggs were going to be dried up soon, etc, blah, blah, blah. In order to shut her up, I hollered out that he was a socialist who supported Obamacare.
Well, that worked really well. Too well, actually. Grandma called him a no-good, red commanist and smacked him in the nuts with her purse. Since her purse is always loaded down with about 20 prescription drug bottles full of pills (no fun ones unfortunately), several books, several more books on tape (Grandma is suspicious of CDs), a few yard sale tchotkes, and at least three shelves worth of Walgreen's pharmacy items - it probably hurt a lot. I remember he made this kind of half groan/half screaming gurgle and dropped to the ground clutching himself.
Dammit, he IS pretty cute. Hopefully he'll forgive me and is still able to have children. Thank goodness Paula was there to stop Grandma from smacking him again.
What the...?
Oh yeah, Paula must have taken that one while we were at the bar, waiting for Grandma's laser session to be over. It took a while. She has a lot of shitty tattoos.
Wow, I have no memory of this one at all and neither does Paula. Maybe Grandma took it? Where is Grandma anyway? I don't think I've seen her since then.
Oh well, no matter. See how much happier I look? My eyebrow furrows are completely gone. That just goes to show you that a little ass-kicking and a whole lot of alcohol are the very best cure for cramps.
**Exceptions include the times when I'm hungover, suicidal, feeling fat, itchy, bored, am out of drugs, or can't stand one more minute of my mother's nagging.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
An Update on the Blogger Known as Prunella Jones By Her Good Friend Velveeta
Oh hello there, good people of blogland! My name is Velveeta and I am a vedy good friend of Prunella's. She asked me to let you all know that she ees fine, just vedy busy right now working on her autobiography/cautionary tale "Prunella J: Portrait of An Adderall-Gobbling Jello-Wrestler", and installing new wood floors in her house so that she won't have to die on piss-stained carpeting when the moon crashes into the Earth in 2012.
She also got a iPhone and is now positively obsessed with playing Words With Friends and Angry Birds. In fact, that's all she ever do. Play those games hour after hour, chuckling to herself dementedly and screaming out, "BOOYAH, PEGGY HILL" whenever she score big points.
Uh oh. Guess I shouldn't have said that last bit. Now Pru is mad at me. I can tell because she just spit out her gum at me and hit me in the eye. OUCH! That was vedy uncalled for!
What do you mean, don't tell them that? Why not? Eet is true!
I am vedy worried about you, Prunella. You know eet is not healthy to never put down the phone ever. Why, eet is practically attached to your body! You are vedy nearly one with eet, like a cyborg or something. Eet is dangerous! Everyone knows the iPhone's are the mark of the beast! You are on the road to Hell, my frieeend.
And, you know you are lying to your blogger frieeends about working on your book. You haven't done anything creative in months! You don't write your poems. You don't draw your pictures. You don't astrally project yourself into other dimensions any more - not that I approved, of course - but at least it was something, s'okay?
No, now you just sit and play those silly games over and over, and make cultural references that no one who has not watched every episode of "King of the Hill" would possibly be able to understand!
Not to mention your new found addiction to Nicotine gum and lozenges, which is preety pathetic considering you have never even smoke cigarettes! Why would you do that? Eet's not normal!
What?
Nicotine protects your brain from the fluoride that's in the water? I never heard of that. Did you get that from one of those crazy conspiracy websites that you are always reading? You should delete those bookmarks, s'okay, eet's making you vedy strange. What would your frieeends say if I tell them you had made a helmet out of a rubber swim cap, tin foil and Gortex to keep the aliens from listening to your thoughts, eh? They'd think you were nuts! Probably because you are!
No, I will not shut up, s'okay? I have a right to criticize you since I'm the one who got up at 3 A.M. to bail your ass out of jail after you got caught sucking the nitrous out of 24 cans of whipped cream at Kroger and then putting them back on the shelf.
Don't you dare give me the middle finger, Missy! It's your own fault your life is such a mess! No wonder your man left you for that fat lady with five kids whom he met while playing World of Warcraft. He no doubt got vedy tired of hearing your endless theories about how the Illuminati are secretly manipulating the weather and inserting subliminal messages into movies and pop music. Really Pru, how could you expect the poor guy to stick around after you set his Jay-Z CD's on fire? He loves Jigga!
And, I'm sorry, but saying Walt Disney's frozen head is running the world from a secret vault under Disneyland and he commanded you to do eet is not a vedy good excuse! Eet makes you sound completely insane. I'm serious, I think you need help, s'okay?
Oh, so you were just kidding about that, were you? Well, your sense of humor is vedy strange. I haven't forgotten about the time the figure of Jesus suddenly appeared in the oil stains under my car, and I prayed to eet for weeks before finding out that you and Paula Abdul made eet as a practical joke!
No, that WAS NOT funny! I vedy nearly donated my house to the church so the driveway could become a holy shrine! Golden Palace.com still leaves messages on my phone! Stop laughing, you crazy beetch, or I am going to tell your new boss at Big Earl's that you are the one who carved "Phillip likes to sniff his own farts" into the wood of the bar. You'll be fired for sure, even though eet ees true, I've seen him do it too.
(gasp) How dare you insult my weave! No I did not get it from the Britney Spears collection for WalMart! FYI, it was vedy expensive! You are just jealous because that haircut you got makes you look like a soccer mom!
Oh jes, I went there, s'allright! What are you going to do about eet, huh? Huh, Mees Soccer-Mom-haircut?
(Sigh) You are soo predictable.
Thursday, April 08, 2010
Caught! Exclusive Pictures of Jackie Waffles Gettin' His Freak On
Sometimes in the Spring, a young cat's thoughts turn from snoozing and making sure he gets fed 23 times a day, to other, more primitive desires...
Thus didst this happen to our young Jackie one bright day in April, when he suddenly noticed that the goofy mermaid head he liked to nap on was really quite attractive, with nice, biteable hair.
"Snore, snarfle...huh? Hmmmm."
"Hey baby, how you doin'?"
"Looks like we're all alone here, honey. Just the two of us.
(whisper) Wanna get it on?"
"NOM NOM NOM"
(frenzied flinging)
"MMM HMMMM!"
LICK... "Oh girl"...LICK, LICK..."you so fine!"
"Did you like that, baby? Don't worry, the fun is just beginning."
Cue the porno music...
"YES, YES, YES! Oh Bab-"
"What the hell? Get that camera out of here, Pru!!!
Thus didst this happen to our young Jackie one bright day in April, when he suddenly noticed that the goofy mermaid head he liked to nap on was really quite attractive, with nice, biteable hair.
"Snore, snarfle...huh? Hmmmm."
"Hey baby, how you doin'?"
"Looks like we're all alone here, honey. Just the two of us.
(whisper) Wanna get it on?"
"NOM NOM NOM"
(frenzied flinging)
"MMM HMMMM!"
LICK... "Oh girl"...LICK, LICK..."you so fine!"
"Did you like that, baby? Don't worry, the fun is just beginning."
Cue the porno music...
"YES, YES, YES! Oh Bab-"
"What the hell? Get that camera out of here, Pru!!!
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Time sure does fly...
...especially when you hang out in La La Land with this guy. He's hypnotic!
Is it really March already? And 2010 too?! Sheesh, that's the LAST time I will trip on Nutmeg-laced space cakes, I swear!
Is it really March already? And 2010 too?! Sheesh, that's the LAST time I will trip on Nutmeg-laced space cakes, I swear!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Blast From The Past #3
Okay, looks like I should have just named this look back at old posts "Britney and Tucksworth Appreciation Week" since pretty much all my old favs star Britney Spears as my trashy rival and Tucksworth, my helper monkey with a substance abuse problem. In this post, you learn the real reason Britney went bald...
Karma
Why is it that whenever I try to have the least little bit of fun, karma has a way of making me pay for it immediately? All of you guys who warned me that there would be repercussions for teasing my mom were so right. I just wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. Why can't karma leave me alone for five minutes and go find OJ Simpson?
This weekend started off pretty good. I was in a great mood because I had finally found someone to take Tucksworth off of my hands. You remember my alcoholic, ex-helper monkey, Tucksworth? Well anyway, my cousin Delmont thought Tucks would make a great mascot for his fraternity house, so he drove down to pick him up this weekend. Delmont had never visited Nashville before so I showed him a few of the sights, but then I had to trudge off to my horrible new job at The Boobie Barn. I gave Delmont a key to the house and told him to go out and have fun. Tucksworth was sitting on the sofa, sullenly watching Animal Planet and gave me the finger as I left. He's been in a foul mood ever since the vet put him on Antabuse.
So anyway, I went to work and it was a nightmare. This new club sucks! The customers are allowed to purchase spray guns and shoot water at the girls as we dance. One sadistic little fucker kept aiming the stream at my face which caused my false eyelashes wash off. I badly wanted to kick him in the face but had to settle for spitting out my gum in his hair. Ugh, it was almost enough to make me reconsider quitting Earl's.
I crawled home at 2 A.M. wanting nothing more than to take a quick swim in my pool and relax with a glass of wine.
But there would be no relaxation that night. I could hear crappy pop music blasting from the patio as soon as I drove up. My beagle, Shirley, was baying loudly, like she always does when she's distressed. I figured Delmont was doing a little entertaining in my pool, so I marched back there to let him know the party was over. I wasn't angry or anything, since I used to be a college kid myself, but I didn't want my snooty neighbors calling the cops on me again.
I went out to the pool and snapped off the music. "Hey guys, it's time to...." I began, but stopped mid-sentence because I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
Delmont and Britney Jean, skanking up my pool.
Do you remember Britney Jean, the brilliant "dancer" who made me lose my place as the star of Classy Earl's House of Class and Tits? There she was in MY pool, humping MY cousin, and wearing MY new Prada sunglasses!
Yes, Delmont is good looking. The Jones side of the family are all smokin' hawt. Unfortunately most of them are dumb as cement.
"Hey, cuz," Delmont greeted me with his usual cluelessness. "Come on, join the party!"
Britney Jean glared at me. She was no happier to see me than I was to see her. From all the bubbles in the water that surrounded her, I could tell she was farting in my pool. I was furious!
"Bitch," I hissed. "You get your country ass out of that pool and give me back those sunglasses!"
"Excuse me," she said coolly, "But my name ain't bitch, it's Britinia. I jes' changed it since I'm a star and all now. And I ain't going nowheres. Delmont done tol me this is his house!"
I scowled at Delmont, who gave me a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that, Pru," he said, while climbing out of the pool. "Come on, Britinia, we've got to go."
"Where the hell is Tucksworth?" I asked. I couldn't believe he wasn't out there flinging poo at Britinia, as I had trained him specifically to do that. Then the unmistakable smell of pot smoke hit my nostrils.
They let Tucksworth smoke up my entire bag of weed!
"Delmont, how could you?" I shrieked. "You know, he has substance issues!"
"Well we had to give him somethin," Britinia smirked. "The vodka was makin' him puke. You don't know much about takin' care of animals, do you?"
Just then my grouchy neighbor poked his head of his bedroom window. "All of you shut the hell up or I'm calling the cops! And I'm reporting this to the neighborhood association, Jones. We want you out!"
Goddamn, I hate that neighborhood association! I'd had enough. "Get the hell out of my pool, Britinia! Right now!"
"Make me," she taunted.
You know how in stories people will say they "saw red" to describe getting angry? Well, that actually happened to me. At that moment I was so mad I literally saw everything washed in a red haze. I think a blood vessel might have popped in my eye.
I grabbed Britinia by the hair to haul her out of the pool. She didn't budge so I pulled with all my might. Then she shrieked and I heard a loud ripping sound, and the next thing I knew I was on my ass, holding her weave in my hands. She was totally bald! Holy shit!
"Bitch, I'ma kill you," she screamed. "I jes paid $30 dollars for that weave!"
She jumped out of the pool and was on top of me in a flash. Now I have strong legs and know a little ju-jitsu, but Britinia outweighs me by a good twenty pounds. She quickly knocked me to the ground and started banging my head on the patio tile. Delmont took his sweet time rescuing me. He told me later it was because he was hoping we'd start ripping each others clothes off and kissing. Once he finally figured out that wasn't going to happen, he grabbed Britinia and hustled her out of there. As she was leaving she swore she'd make me pay for ruining her hair.
Her exact words were, "I'ma get you good!"
Now here I sit on Sunday morning. My monkey is stoned and I'm out of weed (and Cheetos), my pool needs to be drained and fumigated, my neighbors are out to get me, and I think I might possibly have whiplash. My mom, who was out on a date with a nice man she met at church, missed the whole thing. From the smile on her face, it looked like she had a pretty good time. That's why I don't understand why I am being punished so terribly for the little bit of teasing I gave her. Karma sure is a bitch!
Karma
Why is it that whenever I try to have the least little bit of fun, karma has a way of making me pay for it immediately? All of you guys who warned me that there would be repercussions for teasing my mom were so right. I just wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. Why can't karma leave me alone for five minutes and go find OJ Simpson?
This weekend started off pretty good. I was in a great mood because I had finally found someone to take Tucksworth off of my hands. You remember my alcoholic, ex-helper monkey, Tucksworth? Well anyway, my cousin Delmont thought Tucks would make a great mascot for his fraternity house, so he drove down to pick him up this weekend. Delmont had never visited Nashville before so I showed him a few of the sights, but then I had to trudge off to my horrible new job at The Boobie Barn. I gave Delmont a key to the house and told him to go out and have fun. Tucksworth was sitting on the sofa, sullenly watching Animal Planet and gave me the finger as I left. He's been in a foul mood ever since the vet put him on Antabuse.
So anyway, I went to work and it was a nightmare. This new club sucks! The customers are allowed to purchase spray guns and shoot water at the girls as we dance. One sadistic little fucker kept aiming the stream at my face which caused my false eyelashes wash off. I badly wanted to kick him in the face but had to settle for spitting out my gum in his hair. Ugh, it was almost enough to make me reconsider quitting Earl's.
I crawled home at 2 A.M. wanting nothing more than to take a quick swim in my pool and relax with a glass of wine.
But there would be no relaxation that night. I could hear crappy pop music blasting from the patio as soon as I drove up. My beagle, Shirley, was baying loudly, like she always does when she's distressed. I figured Delmont was doing a little entertaining in my pool, so I marched back there to let him know the party was over. I wasn't angry or anything, since I used to be a college kid myself, but I didn't want my snooty neighbors calling the cops on me again.
I went out to the pool and snapped off the music. "Hey guys, it's time to...." I began, but stopped mid-sentence because I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
Delmont and Britney Jean, skanking up my pool.
Do you remember Britney Jean, the brilliant "dancer" who made me lose my place as the star of Classy Earl's House of Class and Tits? There she was in MY pool, humping MY cousin, and wearing MY new Prada sunglasses!
Yes, Delmont is good looking. The Jones side of the family are all smokin' hawt. Unfortunately most of them are dumb as cement.
"Hey, cuz," Delmont greeted me with his usual cluelessness. "Come on, join the party!"
Britney Jean glared at me. She was no happier to see me than I was to see her. From all the bubbles in the water that surrounded her, I could tell she was farting in my pool. I was furious!
"Bitch," I hissed. "You get your country ass out of that pool and give me back those sunglasses!"
"Excuse me," she said coolly, "But my name ain't bitch, it's Britinia. I jes' changed it since I'm a star and all now. And I ain't going nowheres. Delmont done tol me this is his house!"
I scowled at Delmont, who gave me a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that, Pru," he said, while climbing out of the pool. "Come on, Britinia, we've got to go."
"Where the hell is Tucksworth?" I asked. I couldn't believe he wasn't out there flinging poo at Britinia, as I had trained him specifically to do that. Then the unmistakable smell of pot smoke hit my nostrils.
They let Tucksworth smoke up my entire bag of weed!
"Delmont, how could you?" I shrieked. "You know, he has substance issues!"
"Well we had to give him somethin," Britinia smirked. "The vodka was makin' him puke. You don't know much about takin' care of animals, do you?"
Just then my grouchy neighbor poked his head of his bedroom window. "All of you shut the hell up or I'm calling the cops! And I'm reporting this to the neighborhood association, Jones. We want you out!"
Goddamn, I hate that neighborhood association! I'd had enough. "Get the hell out of my pool, Britinia! Right now!"
"Make me," she taunted.
You know how in stories people will say they "saw red" to describe getting angry? Well, that actually happened to me. At that moment I was so mad I literally saw everything washed in a red haze. I think a blood vessel might have popped in my eye.
I grabbed Britinia by the hair to haul her out of the pool. She didn't budge so I pulled with all my might. Then she shrieked and I heard a loud ripping sound, and the next thing I knew I was on my ass, holding her weave in my hands. She was totally bald! Holy shit!
"Bitch, I'ma kill you," she screamed. "I jes paid $30 dollars for that weave!"
She jumped out of the pool and was on top of me in a flash. Now I have strong legs and know a little ju-jitsu, but Britinia outweighs me by a good twenty pounds. She quickly knocked me to the ground and started banging my head on the patio tile. Delmont took his sweet time rescuing me. He told me later it was because he was hoping we'd start ripping each others clothes off and kissing. Once he finally figured out that wasn't going to happen, he grabbed Britinia and hustled her out of there. As she was leaving she swore she'd make me pay for ruining her hair.
Her exact words were, "I'ma get you good!"
Now here I sit on Sunday morning. My monkey is stoned and I'm out of weed (and Cheetos), my pool needs to be drained and fumigated, my neighbors are out to get me, and I think I might possibly have whiplash. My mom, who was out on a date with a nice man she met at church, missed the whole thing. From the smile on her face, it looked like she had a pretty good time. That's why I don't understand why I am being punished so terribly for the little bit of teasing I gave her. Karma sure is a bitch!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Blast From The Past #2
This was another post from 2007 starring Britney Spears. I was kind of obsessed with her during her trashy, rebellious period. I love the bad girls. The gossip blogs have gotten so boring now that she's been behaving herself for the past year. I live in hope for the day that she will break free from her handlers once more, shave her head again, maybe rob a bank and then shoot Kevin Federline in one of his fat sausage legs. You know she wants to.
My Crappy Weekend
Oh my God, I am so hungover today. I drank way too much red wine last night and my head is throbbing. It feels like my brain is throwing itself around my skull, trying to escape. Ugh, this is all Big Earl's fault! The only reason I got drunk was to try and blot out the events of this weekend. And to get rid of the urge to kill Earl. It didn't work in either case.
You see, ever since my helper monkey Tucksworth bit Earl's fingertip off, I have been his whipping girl. He's been punishing me by making Deelishus Diamond the Friday night headliner, while I have to work the unpopular Thursday afternoon shift. We all dread Thursdays because that's when the bus from the retirement home comes by. Those grouchy old men always complain about everything. You know, the food is bad, the drinks are too expensive, the girls were much sexier back in their day, blah, blah, blah. Plus it's not exactly lucrative. After three hours of dancing, all I had to show for it was ten dollars in quarters and nickles, which stretched my thong to my knees.
Then Earl told me he'd found a replacement for Tucksworth. I wasn't real enthused since I don't want just anyone throwing knives at me. "Is she a professional?" I asked.
"She's a great talent," he growled. "She's been dancing for years, but she's never worked the pole before. Get your ass in here early tomorrow and show her the ropes."
Well, that wasn't very inspiring news. Pole dancing is an art, you can't learn it just one afternoon, but I figured it couldn't be too bad if she was already a good dancer.
Oh, how wrong I was!
My heart sank the moment I saw her.
"Hey, y'all! My name is Britney Jean," she said to me, while chomping gum, smoking, and guzzling a Red Bull at the same time. "That's sure a cute outfit you're wearing. Want to trade clothes?"
The new girl.
"Um...no," I said, taking a long, long look at her ripped up fishnets and grubby leather bustier. She smelled like she hadn't bathed in weeks. I glanced back at Earl, not believing he expected me to dance with this. He gave me an evil little smirk.
"Work up a lezzie type act," he ordered. "Make it a sexy!"
Britney Jean let out a loud belch. "No problemo," she said with a big smile, "I can do sexy in my sleep!"
"Okay," I sighed. "Show me a few of your moves." I wanted to see what I had to work with. It turned out to be even worse than I expected.
First she ran around the pole in circles. WTF?
Then she did sort of a funky chicken type move, complete with arm flapping.
And then she kind of just stood there and pretended to hump the pole.
When she slid to the floor in a big finish, I distinctly heard her fart.
I was speechless! This was a great dancer? All of the other girls were snickering and Joe the bartender made a loud puking noise. I cut my eyes over to Earl, expecting him to be livid. Instead, he was gazing up at her with awe. "She's fantastic!" he whispered.
Earl, watching Britney Jean's performance.
Earl was so impressed with Britney Jean that he decided she didn't need me. In fact, he demoted me to a waitress, so I quit. How dare he treat me this way! I marched right across the street to Earl's biggest competition, "The Boobie Barn" and got hired on the spot. It's okay, I made some decent tips but I don't know if I'll be able to stand my new boss. His name is Tom and he's even weirder than Big Earl if that's possible. You won't believe the kind of freaky stuff he's into. Here's a picture of him.
My new boss. He likes to be saluted.
The Nazi stuff creeps me out! But the good news is that he's only about five feet tall and all the girls say he's gay so I won't have to worry about him pawing me. Still, I'm angry about the Britney Jean situation. And the very worst part is that she apparently sold out the house on Saturday night. That's right! "Fans" came from miles around just to watch her "dance" and lip sync to some awful 90's tunes. What is wrong with people?
My Crappy Weekend
Oh my God, I am so hungover today. I drank way too much red wine last night and my head is throbbing. It feels like my brain is throwing itself around my skull, trying to escape. Ugh, this is all Big Earl's fault! The only reason I got drunk was to try and blot out the events of this weekend. And to get rid of the urge to kill Earl. It didn't work in either case.
You see, ever since my helper monkey Tucksworth bit Earl's fingertip off, I have been his whipping girl. He's been punishing me by making Deelishus Diamond the Friday night headliner, while I have to work the unpopular Thursday afternoon shift. We all dread Thursdays because that's when the bus from the retirement home comes by. Those grouchy old men always complain about everything. You know, the food is bad, the drinks are too expensive, the girls were much sexier back in their day, blah, blah, blah. Plus it's not exactly lucrative. After three hours of dancing, all I had to show for it was ten dollars in quarters and nickles, which stretched my thong to my knees.
Then Earl told me he'd found a replacement for Tucksworth. I wasn't real enthused since I don't want just anyone throwing knives at me. "Is she a professional?" I asked.
"She's a great talent," he growled. "She's been dancing for years, but she's never worked the pole before. Get your ass in here early tomorrow and show her the ropes."
Well, that wasn't very inspiring news. Pole dancing is an art, you can't learn it just one afternoon, but I figured it couldn't be too bad if she was already a good dancer.
Oh, how wrong I was!
My heart sank the moment I saw her.
"Hey, y'all! My name is Britney Jean," she said to me, while chomping gum, smoking, and guzzling a Red Bull at the same time. "That's sure a cute outfit you're wearing. Want to trade clothes?"
The new girl.
"Um...no," I said, taking a long, long look at her ripped up fishnets and grubby leather bustier. She smelled like she hadn't bathed in weeks. I glanced back at Earl, not believing he expected me to dance with this. He gave me an evil little smirk.
"Work up a lezzie type act," he ordered. "Make it a sexy!"
Britney Jean let out a loud belch. "No problemo," she said with a big smile, "I can do sexy in my sleep!"
"Okay," I sighed. "Show me a few of your moves." I wanted to see what I had to work with. It turned out to be even worse than I expected.
First she ran around the pole in circles. WTF?
Then she did sort of a funky chicken type move, complete with arm flapping.
And then she kind of just stood there and pretended to hump the pole.
When she slid to the floor in a big finish, I distinctly heard her fart.
I was speechless! This was a great dancer? All of the other girls were snickering and Joe the bartender made a loud puking noise. I cut my eyes over to Earl, expecting him to be livid. Instead, he was gazing up at her with awe. "She's fantastic!" he whispered.
Earl, watching Britney Jean's performance.
Earl was so impressed with Britney Jean that he decided she didn't need me. In fact, he demoted me to a waitress, so I quit. How dare he treat me this way! I marched right across the street to Earl's biggest competition, "The Boobie Barn" and got hired on the spot. It's okay, I made some decent tips but I don't know if I'll be able to stand my new boss. His name is Tom and he's even weirder than Big Earl if that's possible. You won't believe the kind of freaky stuff he's into. Here's a picture of him.
My new boss. He likes to be saluted.
The Nazi stuff creeps me out! But the good news is that he's only about five feet tall and all the girls say he's gay so I won't have to worry about him pawing me. Still, I'm angry about the Britney Jean situation. And the very worst part is that she apparently sold out the house on Saturday night. That's right! "Fans" came from miles around just to watch her "dance" and lip sync to some awful 90's tunes. What is wrong with people?
Blast From The Past #1
Welcome to "Blast From the Past" week here at the Prunella de Ville headquarters. I decided to shake things up a bit by revisiting a few of my old favorite posts to see how things have changed since then. Did you buy that?
Okay, okay, the real reason is because I'm too lazy to write anything new. Also, I'm having have bad menstrual cramps right now - the kind that make you want to tear your hair out and smash something - and that reminded me of the time, way back in 2007, when Britney Spears shaved her head and beat the crap out of some paparazzi's car. Oh, how I loved bald, rebellious Britney!
This post was written during one of my periodic Shakespeare-obsessed episodes, when I like to reread a bunch of the bard's plays and then pattern mine parlance to evoke the vernacular of the great William Shakespeare. In other words, I babble like a loon while my friends roll their eyes and wait for it to pass.
A MIDSUMMER'S NIGHT ARGUMENT
A play in 2 acts by Prunella Jones
Scene 1 THE PARKING GARAGE
Enter Jessica Alba and her boyfriend Cash, dressed in black.
Jessica My Lord! Thy disposition is great and I hath felt in the past thy mind pure of unclean qualities. I had long admired thee, indeed for thy virtues, but no longer! Nay!
Cash My good lady? What sayst thou? You doubt mine virtues and goodness? What nefarious villian has turned thou against me, pray tell? Who hast thus spake evil of me? I demand vindication!
Jessica Good sir, I have heard many a brazen tale of your love for another. O how I have wept o'er thee! If thou dost love another, fairer maiden, thou must make thy desire heard. Indeed I demand satisfaction of this intelligence!
Cash Madame, I am most sorrowful and grieved. Thou dost doubt mine love for thee which shines hot and bright with the power of a thousand suns.
Jessica Oh doth thou now protest? When you hath only recently bequethed admiration to a certain gentlewoman by the name of Britney? I have heard thy veneration for her "well shaped buttocks." Thou dost bring shame upon mine breast and the name of my family.
Cash Now Mistress, I desire only thee. Be thou blest with unthankfulness? I am not such a sickly creature, heaven praise!
Jessica Hummmmmph!
Jessica Marry you I shall not. Against all cheques, rebukes, and manners thus I will retract the colours of my love and my goodwill. Unless thou tellst thy hartlot farewell. I'll be not thine friend but thine enemy!
Exit
SCENE 2. AT NIGHT IN THE STREET
Enter a very peeved Britney Spears.
Britney Nay, good sir! Nay, master! What foul confidence have you thus relayed to me? It is the rankest compound that ever offended a nostril! Love me you do not? How is this possible? Is this a vision? Is this a dream? Do I sleep? Why dost thou cuckold me? You have promised me marriage! Thy sperm didst bind us together.
Cash- speaking off stage Nay, Britney. You mistook mine erection for love!
Britney What sayst thou? What sayest thou? I'll have thy brains ta'en out and buttered and given to thy dog for a New Years gift! I abhor thee! Oh but you had been drowned like a fiend but the shore was shelvy and shallow. Devil! You shall not go unpunished. Though what I am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would not shall not make me tame: if I have horns to make one mad, let the proverb go with me: I'll be horn mad!
Cash No Britney, not the Escalade!
End
Okay, okay, the real reason is because I'm too lazy to write anything new. Also, I'm having have bad menstrual cramps right now - the kind that make you want to tear your hair out and smash something - and that reminded me of the time, way back in 2007, when Britney Spears shaved her head and beat the crap out of some paparazzi's car. Oh, how I loved bald, rebellious Britney!
This post was written during one of my periodic Shakespeare-obsessed episodes, when I like to reread a bunch of the bard's plays and then pattern mine parlance to evoke the vernacular of the great William Shakespeare. In other words, I babble like a loon while my friends roll their eyes and wait for it to pass.
A MIDSUMMER'S NIGHT ARGUMENT
A play in 2 acts by Prunella Jones
Scene 1 THE PARKING GARAGE
Enter Jessica Alba and her boyfriend Cash, dressed in black.
Jessica My Lord! Thy disposition is great and I hath felt in the past thy mind pure of unclean qualities. I had long admired thee, indeed for thy virtues, but no longer! Nay!
Cash My good lady? What sayst thou? You doubt mine virtues and goodness? What nefarious villian has turned thou against me, pray tell? Who hast thus spake evil of me? I demand vindication!
Jessica Good sir, I have heard many a brazen tale of your love for another. O how I have wept o'er thee! If thou dost love another, fairer maiden, thou must make thy desire heard. Indeed I demand satisfaction of this intelligence!
Cash Madame, I am most sorrowful and grieved. Thou dost doubt mine love for thee which shines hot and bright with the power of a thousand suns.
Jessica Oh doth thou now protest? When you hath only recently bequethed admiration to a certain gentlewoman by the name of Britney? I have heard thy veneration for her "well shaped buttocks." Thou dost bring shame upon mine breast and the name of my family.
Cash Now Mistress, I desire only thee. Be thou blest with unthankfulness? I am not such a sickly creature, heaven praise!
Jessica Hummmmmph!
Jessica Marry you I shall not. Against all cheques, rebukes, and manners thus I will retract the colours of my love and my goodwill. Unless thou tellst thy hartlot farewell. I'll be not thine friend but thine enemy!
Exit
SCENE 2. AT NIGHT IN THE STREET
Enter a very peeved Britney Spears.
Britney Nay, good sir! Nay, master! What foul confidence have you thus relayed to me? It is the rankest compound that ever offended a nostril! Love me you do not? How is this possible? Is this a vision? Is this a dream? Do I sleep? Why dost thou cuckold me? You have promised me marriage! Thy sperm didst bind us together.
Cash- speaking off stage Nay, Britney. You mistook mine erection for love!
Britney What sayst thou? What sayest thou? I'll have thy brains ta'en out and buttered and given to thy dog for a New Years gift! I abhor thee! Oh but you had been drowned like a fiend but the shore was shelvy and shallow. Devil! You shall not go unpunished. Though what I am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would not shall not make me tame: if I have horns to make one mad, let the proverb go with me: I'll be horn mad!
Cash No Britney, not the Escalade!
End
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