THINK BEFORE YOU SAY........

I would hate to think, that anything I ever said to someone.......caused them to commit suicide. Thats a burden I dont think I would be able to handle.

Right after September 11th.... a good friend of mine's father walked into a lake, and drowned himself. He had been battling depression, and had lost a ton of money in the market...post attack. I saw my friend after I had heard the news, and I didnt know that a person could look that horrible, and NOT just have gone through intense chemo.

Over the past few months, Ive seen all of the coverage of people killing themselves and it really effects me.

Because what a lot of people dont know.....is that I tried to kill myself. I didnt succeed, and I saw first hand, the destruction that I wouldve caused.

My life has been hard. Thats not a complaint, just a fact. I was so decimated and broken on a daily basis, that I had to laugh to survive. Man...I could laugh and tap dance so well, NOBODY couldve possibly known that all I wanted to do was jump off a bridge, and be done with all of the rocks that life hurled at my face. I had to keep it up the song and dance, because I knew that big black hole grew bigger everyday. The one I wanted to jump into, and never return.

So laugh.........dance......IM FINE! Really! ........laugh.....dance.......NO! IM OKAY!.... Nothing bothers me!!!!....laugh....dance..laugh.dance.laughdancelaughdance......

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Then one day I just didnt feel like it anymore. And one day I truly believed that I was awful, and bad, and I believed it like Id never believed anything before. Everyone was right. And I put on a dress shirt. I put on dress slacks. I found my nicest shoes, turned off the tv, and powered off my phone. Then I took bottles and bottles of drugs, and drank bottles and bottles of vodka...

and you know what? When I picked up the pictures of my family and friends, and laid them on top of me so I wouldnt be alone when I died....

I REALLY believed, that those very people would be happy to hear that I was gone....so they wouldnt have to deal with someone horrible like me, anymore.

On that day, I gave in to all the horrible words that people said to me, through out my life.

And no one found me for 24 hours.

I was barely alive.

And then the doctors said I wouldnt make it through the night.

And when they finally said I would live......they said I would have severe brain damage, when I woke up.

( that last detail is still up for debate.)

So......

When I post a picture of my life.

When I talk freely about who I am, and what I do....and dont apologize for it.....

Its because I earned it.

I deserve it. All of us do.

These kids who are killing themselves.... shouldn't have to die, because all they want is to feel free.

Next time you say a word, or type a sentence....you should think. REALLY REALLY REALLY think about the fact that you may read in the paper.... that the very person you talked to the week before in such a cruel way.........slit their wrists.

They'll be gone. And you'll be here. And their burden will be yours for the rest of your life, and the big black hole that they ran from, will chase you down to the end. And Im here to tell you right now.....that big black hole doesnt feel good.

We need to be more compassionate. People are dieing. I was damned near one of them.

Im too cute to die young.

Breath taking, really.........

THE MAINE EVENT

I was talking to my friend Lisa, yesterday. You know what I said to her? First I says.....I says..." Lisa! Stop asking me if I have 3 Negro friends who just got out of prison. Its not MY responsibility to help you carry out your rape fantasy. Post on Craigslist like everyone else! ( you know when I say "everyone", Im talking about my boyfriend, Russ........the MINUTE I go out of town.) Once that was settled, we went on to discuss the recent event that we have on our calender. The event, is a drag show. All 6 of you reading this, have already read my previous blogs...so you know I love a drag show.

And just a side note.

Why the shit arent the 6 of you reading this, passing it along to your friends to read? CHRIST!!!! You all are DESPERATE for me to keep writing new blogs, but you think Im just gonna keep doing it for YOU yahoos?!?!?!? What does RYAN get out of it? You know what he gets? He gets his precious energy level depleted. Thats what. IM NOT YOUR SONG AND DANCE WHORE!

Who am I kidding? Yes, I am.

"Let me loosen up your collar, tell me....DO YOU WANNA SEE ME DO THE SHIMMY AGAIN?"

Back to drag. So...this particular show, is not taking place in a large, glamorous city, where a drag show blends seamlessly into the bustling urban landscape. Its taking place in Waterville. As in Waterville, Maine. As in CENTRAL MAINE. As in...... try taking a drive down main street this time of year, and enjoy the multitude of deer carcasses, tied down to car roofs, freshly killed. Listen to the honks of approval from passing motorists. Maybe youll even see some yokel, holding up his hand with a thumb down, index finger up, middle and ring fingers down, pinky up......nodding his head back and forth in a " FUCKIN" RIGHT!!!" motion.

" KILL THAT BITCH! YOU FUCKIN' TAGGED IT, SON!!!"

sigh

Ya. THATS the Waterville Maine, that Im talking about. Now youre dieing to visit, arent you? Well, call The Hampton Inn early, stupids!!! Once this gets out, the shits gonna be BOOKED! And make sure you stop at a restaurant called Governor's. If you like the taste of rubber ass jizz infected with AIDS and bone crushing depression...then Governor's is the place for you.

You can see why Im gonna love this show. I mean...I love a GOOD drag show...but Im gonna love it just a little bit more, if its a total, chaotic train wreck. Did I mention that this is all going down, in WATERVILLE MAINE?

No...we need to stop again.

When I say Waterville, Maine.....what Im talking about is that there is a Walmart there. Okay?But...this......this is some crazy shit, this particular one. For anyone who gets lippy with me about moving to a place like Atlanta, Georgia. Please visit:

The Waterville Maine Walmart store. 80 Waterville Commons Dr - (207) 873-2730

Ive seen some things in there. Mostly retarded. Or in-bred. Or lesbian. Or a combo. Oh! and for sure.... some fetal alcohol. Lots of that. All united by dirty fingernails, peanut butter stained t-shirts, and the fact that you can smell their assholes from 50 paces.

Im telling you right now.....

Hampton Inn 207 873 0400. Call early!

When Lisa first told me about this show.....I mean....yes. She was giving me all the information. She listed the day, and the time...oh my! She was just as informative as she could be! But....beneath her words..... lay a sinister undertone. " Oh, wont it be so much fun!", was what she SAID. What she MEANT was....." Aw, God. Ryan......its gonna be a shit storm, and if you dont come, youre missing, and missing BIG!" What am I gonna do? say NO?

To really add to the already DELICIOUS concoction, is the fact that her friends Ann and John are coming. Ann and John are WONDERFUL people. Ann works with Lisa, and when I call her at work....Ann INSISTS on telling me what color panties she is wearing. Ill be all..." Oh, hi Ann. Such a treat to speak with you this fine afternoon".

" They're fucking purple, Ryan. PURPLE!!! And they are hugging my cha cha right now!!!!. You like that? Ive got a finger in, as we speak!" She is always whisper-y and grumble-y when she says this. Its inappropriate is what it is.

Sick, and inappropriate!

Ann is married to a hot silver fox, who has "hurt me daddy"....written all over him. I went to their house once, and anytime Ann left the room, John would punch me in the asshole, and then run his tongue over my eye lids. Dont act that isnt how you and your spouse flirted, when you were getting to know each other.

I kid. These guys are salt of the earth. They are awesome. And just so you know...I WASNT kidding about John being a silver daddy. Hi John. I know youre reading this......know how I know....???

Because Im in.....here. ( Im pointing to my brain.)

( which is supposed to be YOUR brain...since Im talking about YOU) Meh, thatt one needs some work.

John is a straight who is cool with the gays. Upon my first meeting him at his house, he proudly displayed his arrangement of a twinky with 2 cupcakes at the bottom. He glided his hand across the x rated confection. I looked to his beaming face.

" Huh?......Huh?" is what it said. I was in love immediately.

While John is cool, he is experiencing some reservation about attending such an event. He is pretty 50/50 on whether he will go or not.

Thats what vodka is for!!!

We will go to dinner first. " Oh, John......listen to me", is what Ill say. " You go in, you ll hang out for 20 minutes. Not your thing? You can go" Ill bat my eyelashes, and hold up my hands in a " no pressure", stance.

Oh! Look!!! Who ordered that 4th Long Island Tea for you? Weird!!!!

In closing, I dont mean to shit on Waterville Maine. Its where I grew up, and look how awesome I turned out.

Really, with the face your making?

Im sure the show is more than likely going to be great. Ann and John will come ,and he'll have the time of his life. When I keep trying to explain to him that an anus is just tighter than a vagina....its just fact. Information that Im bestowing. Geesh! Its called..." broadening people's horizons."

The fact that Lisa keeps asking me if it would be as tight after a good rape session....inappropriate.

But not surprising.

THE BED & BREAKFAST OF DOOM.....

Who would of thought that at the ripe old age of 27, Id still be learning new things about myself?

Um......You know what? You can take that little face youre making right now, and go screw, and go screw big time.

27!!!!

IM 27 GOD DAMN IT!!!!

Fine. Thanks to botox and chemical peels, I have the FOREHEAD of a 27 year old. I have the sense of humor of retarded 13 year old, but the sagging nut sack and greying facial hair of your grand daddy....so lets just say Im 36, and leave it.

CHRIST, cant a glamorous tranny lie about his age for a second, without all of you judgey whores riding him?

HA! Riding him......

Anyhoo. I have learned that I AM NOT a bed and breakfast, kind of guy.

Russ and I just went down to Atlanta for his nephew's christening. If you know me, then you KNOW how much I love sitting in a church. And just a side note......I dont care what religion it is.....I just find religious "rituals", creepy. With the exception of the "drinking wine"part. Im down with that. "Its all good father O' Leary...its 5 oclock somewhere! Fill ' er up! Your gin blossom nose tells me that you understand. And the felony charges that youre facing, tells me that you love a good high school wrestling match."

But in all fairness..... who doesnt?

So, back to the rituals. To me...its all one step away from holding up a snake while speaking in tongues, and slitting a goats throat in front a bon fire. When the priest asked all of us to renounce Satan, all I could think about was......" but isnt he the muscle-y shirtless one, who's WAY more fun? No thanks, sister Christian. Ill take big red with the quarter sized nipples and propensity for gang bangs, any day. Enjoy your fasting!"

Russ and I received a Christmas gift last year, from a website called Bed and Breakfast.com. They were two gift certificates.... each for $100.00. All you had to do was go to the site, find a registry of the B&B's who are affiliated with the company, book it, redeem your coupons, and then just go on ahead and bed and breakfast your face off. Since we knew we would be heading south for the christening...we decided to redeem the gift, for that trip.

Russ booked a B&B, that is located in the Virgina Highlands area of Atlanta. Its a funky, hip area of Atlanta that is right near the park, and has a ton of restaurants, shops, and bars. And you know daddy. He loves a bar. When we flew in, we didnt check into the B&B immediately. At about 5 pm, Russ got a call from the owner.....lets call her "Ann". She told Russ that she was expecting us, and since it was getting late...she would be leaving, but would hide our keys on the porch, so that we could let ourselves in, and that she would see us the following morning for breakfast, which she cooked and served herself.

We arrived around 6:30. It was a very garden-y, nick nack-y, tiffany lamp-y house, that I WILL say...DID possess a certain amount of charm. Our room was right off the front porch, but the big down side...our bathroom wasnt attached. We had to walk through a small hallway and through the dining room, to get to the bathroom. I wasnt thrilled about it, but I let it go. Russ DID have to explain the huge shiner he was sporting the next day, but he knows enough now to make up a really good story about how he fell down or was beaten up for being a huge sissy, by a gang of Mexicans.

"Isnt that right, Russ? Youre clumsy... arent you? ARENT YOU?!?!?! Answer me, boy!

SMACK!!!!

See?!?!? Why do you make me hit you, when I love you so much!? Cause youre a WHORE!!! Im sorry baby, come give me a hug.

Just never book a bed and breakfast again, okay? I SAID, OKAY!!!???"

Its called, " a relationship."

Maybe you people should try it, someday.

I woke up the next morning, and Russ had already gotten up to use the bathroom. He told me that he had met Ann. She is in her late 60's, early 70's. She is 4ft 8in, and 90 pounds, soak and wet. She had those eye glasses that are kind of tinted grey, and she rocked a sweet side pony tail. Im not talking about low and near the nape of her neck. Im talking, up....near her ear. Just all of her hair, pulled into a tight, side pony. Like Crissy Snow, if she was an elven Jew.

We decided she was Paula Abdul's grandmother.

I put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.....because I sleep naked, you guys. Are you picturing it? Are you? Just me..naked..in stark white sheets? Ya, try not to get any on your keyboard.

I tip toed into the dining room ,and I saw her. She was in the kitchen. I peaked my head in, and say hello. Adorable, right? I told her that I loved her home, and it was a pleasure to meet her. She stood up, and rushed at me in a desperate fervor. " You cant be in here with out shoes!!!! Its against health code, you need to go back and get something on your feet!!!" Her tone and style of delivery, was such that you wouldve thought that I had just rubbed my balls all over the butter knife. ( Again..enjoy the visual, just dont get anything on your keyboard. Geesh. horny, much?)

I was taken aback. I guess I can understand the code, but...I dont know....maybe she could've said, " Oh, its wonderful to meet you too, you hot sexy fag. Just a reminder...when you are in public areas, be sure to have on shoes. Breakfast is in twenty!" Instead, she decided to showcase her koo koo bird-ness......and oh dear reader.....there is more to come.

We went out to the dining room, and sat down with Ann. I guess she was pleasant enough, but she did start to go off about illegal immigrants, cried poverty, talked about how much she disliked Atlanta, and tried to get Russ and I to help her with a few things around the house. Which we wouldve done...if she wasnt Paula Abdul's grandmother. I love crazy, but I like it from a safe distance. I dont want to eat bagels with it.

We finished up, decided to shower and hit the gym, and we proceeded to unpack, and get showered. She asked us if she could grab a credit card from us, so tha tshe could run it, and get that all taken care of. Fair enough. Russ grabbed his card, and the 2 certificates. When she saw the gift certificates.......

she.....

lost.....

her....

god damned....

MIND!!!!

She exploded that she WOULD NOT take them, that if she had known that we planned on using them, she wouldnt've allowed us to stay there, that we were REALLY putting her out, and so on.,.and so on....and so on.....

Heres the thing.

Im usually the one who causes the uncomfortable moment. When I do it, it typically involves a Vicodin, 4 glasses of white, and the fact that I think rape jokes are HYSTERICAL.

Its cute when I do it.

When Im left agog.....it really takes a lot....and miss thing made my jaw hit the floor. Russ and I stood, completely dumbfounded. She told us that the website docks her 20% from the total, and she hates doing it. I was left to ponder..." then why are you affiliated with that site?" Sometimes I like to really flaunt my high school education.

12 years!!!! Intimidated?

Because Russ is wonderful, he explained that the certificates were going to expire, and that we needed to use them. In exchange, we would pay any difference that she would lose from the website. That Russ!!! She BEGRUDGINGLY said that she would look into it, and would call us later.

Later that day, we did in fact get a voice mail from her, saying that she had made the call. She told us that she pulled her name from the site because she didnt feel like dealing with it any longer, but that she wouldn't charge us the 20% she would lose, and to just enjoy our stay.

Um....too late.

Russ and I were totally grossed out by Grammy Abdul, and just wanted to leave. When we gave her the card to pay for the remainder of our stay, she asked us to pay cash, so she wouldn't get docked credit card processing fees.

Russ...... politely...declined and handed her the card. I was ready to lose my shiz.

On our final morning, Russ had gotten up earlier than me, because its impossible for him to sleep past 6am while on vacation. When I got up, he was sitting on the porch with his lap top. He showed me the website " tripadvisor.com". On it, there were multiple reviews from other people, stating what a loony toons she was. That was Russ's bad for not looking there before he booked it.

Isnt it Russ?.....ISNT IT?!?!? ANSWER ME BITCH!

SMACK!!!!

The moral of the story?......Ill just stay at a Marriott or Hyatt. I like my bathroom, actually IN my room.......and if you guys feel badly for my treatment of Russ, then feel free to send him MAC under eye concealer in " tawny".

(ps)

Here are a few of the reviews from tripadvisor.

#1. The house and gardens were charming and the location was great, but it didn't make up for the owner. I went with my family and my long-term boyfriend and we used all 3 bedrooms. My mother received a discount for renting all 3 rooms, but when we got there my mom called Ann, who was not there to let us in, she said she wouldn't be serving us breakfast because of the discounted rate. This was never mentioned when my mom made the reservations. So we went grocery shopping and got some basics. Ann showed up the next morning and said she was confused and that she would make breakfast. She did reimburse us for part of the groceries we bought. After she left I found a note on the counter next to a chipped bowl that accused us of chipping the bowl (it was obviously an old crack) and that she was also missing a knife. Nice way to start the stay there. We left to go about our day, but when we returned that evening around 8:30 the screen door was locked and we couldn't get in. After ringing the bell several times she let us in. My suitcase had been moved around and looked like it had been gone through. On our last day she asked how long my boyfriend and I had been married and when I told her we weren't she said she would have to make a rule that only married couples could stay there. My sister went for a jog one morning and when she came back she put a towel on the chair and was sitting on the edge of the chair. Adele told her she couldn't sit down until she had a shower. The "missing" knife was in a tupperware container so I put it on the counter so she could see it. She picked it up and was holding it and then asked me where the missing knife was. I told her she was holding it, and she went on a long spiel about not wanting to nickle and dime us to death. Yeah, sure. I did like that the house had plaster walls so it was very quiet. The place has lots of potential to be great, but I wouldn't want to deal with the owner ever again.

#2. Friendly innkeeper but unusual behaviour. We shortened our stay and left early. Clean towels were scarce, we had to locate them ourselves, as only one bath towel and hand towel was provided initially, and there were two of us. Soiled towels were removed but not replaced. No snacks were offered. Two room temperature bottled waters were placed in our room, (no glasses) but only the first night. Innkeeper curled up on the sofa and napped all day, leaving dirty breakfast dishes on the dining table until late that night. The temperature in the house was either stifling hot or too chilly. No outside lights, one would step up into a dark porch area and have to find the keyhole in complete darkness. Our "private" bath, which was actually accessed by walking through the main house, had a window in the tub area that had no curtain. The glass was not frosted either. Would not have been a problem but the house next door is 3 stories and the neighbors could pretty much watch you take a shower. We had to wedge a hand towel with a shampoo bottle for privacy, or shower kneeling down. And when we checked out, innkeeper tried to charge us for 3 nights instead of the actual two nights that we stayed. There's more, but this should give you an idea. The one positive thing we can report is that the bed was very comfortable and we did sleep good, however, would never stay here again or recommend it to anyone.

WE ARE ALL ANIMALS......

Below is an original work, from myself. Its a short story, starring the character of my best friend...Lisa Johnson.

It is based on true events.....

LISA'S MOONLIT ADVENTURE:

A lusty tale, by Ryan Scott

Lisa Johnson finished her double shift at The Stained Napkin, and fell into an empty booth to count her tips. Sure, Lisa was turning 40, but the years of waiting tables at the local greasy spoon, didnt hinder her sex appeal. It was a good night, and Lisa let out out a husky chuckle, adding up the amount. $230.00!!!!!..." These horny locals fall so easily into my trap. My.....honey trap. This thought made Lisa laugh again, this time it was so hearty a laugh....her flesh lips quaked in their musky panty domaine, and Lisa caught herself allowing the laugh to morph into a primitive moan. " No...not yet"....whispered Lisa...to no one at all. Its not that Lisa was crazy. " Maybe horny crazy", mused our greasy protagonist, and with that.... she let out such a self assured guffaw, that her meow meow expanded, and a sopping kweef resounded into section 3 of the restaurant. This only got Lisa more frenetic. God, how she loved to smell her own gaping waft. An elderly couple looked over at the marinating source of the sex sound. Lisa proudly hoisted herself from her seat, walked by them, fanning herself with the cash, and said......." Thats some juice in my middle, aint it?". Laugh....did they laugh!!!!! Lisa tossed off her dirty apron. " Sorry about the twat burp", she called over her shoulder, and exited into the warm summer air. She peered up at the moon. " oh sister moon......I feel your tidal pull,".....whispered Lisa as she pressed her cheek against the car window, peering into the night sky. " Tonight, I shall honor your ancient power." Within 15 minutes, Lisa was home. The hot water sleuced her taught body. Soapy rivers trickled down the fatty curve of her boob sphere. They continued down here steamy torso, disappearing into the billy goat beard pubic triangle, where her labe lips resided. This was a night for pleasure, and Lisa knew it. I mean...the moon.....the kweef.......the billy goat beard? I ask you! Lisa got out of the shower, and relished the thick summer air, dancing across her naked poony. Carla had just gotten home from work, as well. Carla was Lisa's roommate, gal pal, and right hand diesel dyke. They had been friends since junior high. and they were going on nearly 25 years of Carla wanting to pounce on Lisa's meat situation. It gave Lisa a secret pang of self satisfaction, knowing that Carla ached for her. And she worked it. Sometimes, when Carla was shaving her forearms in the kitchen sink,......Lisa would flounce out of her bedroom, totally nude. She would bend over, and with lightning quick hands....would peel back her cooch cakes. " Carla....? Would you call this color hydrangea mess or baby rat? Im writing an online personal for myself. Carlas eyes dimmed, although she had a clear view of Lisa's wrinkled soul. " I dont know. Why do you need to do an online add?".....grunted the missing link. "Now quit that fuss and come over here and shave my balls." When Lisa entered the livingroom, there was Carla......working on her car engine. Carla looked, somehow....different. Was it the moon? Could Carla feel it too? The energy of the night? Her muscled back rocked to and fro, as she screwed the valve cover into the exhaust port. Lisa felt clear creamy rush, as her panty moose salivated. She strode over to the hulking she male. Lisa flung herself on her back in front of Carla, legs in a perfect V. " You see this?", Lisa mused , accentuating every word with an upward pelvic thrust. " This is your free pass to the zoo, except this monkey doesnt throw doody.....it just throws jizzgasm." The sentence was barely out of Lisa's slut mouth, before all 483 lbs of Carla was lezzing it up, on Lisa's poon piece. Oh my god......you KNOW Lisa loved it, dear reader. Carla's 5 oclock shadow sent her raging clit into a bursting symphony of slip slop sounds. Carla released her own 13 inch clit from her overalls,, and jerked off all over Lisa's slut mouth. And then all was silent. Silent, except for the chortling reverb from Lisa's tootie. Carla's musky sent hung in the room, and the remaining semen from her mammoth clit, danced down Lisa's flushed face. Lisa stood...wobbly.....and made her way toward her bedroom. " Hey...where you goin' ....Peacock?.....beckoned Carla. Lisa stopped, gripped the side of the door, and slowly turned. She eyed the brute, with a mischievous glimmer. " I have to get some rest. But, before that........I have to give you something." Lisa lowered herself towards the floor, and pushed out a meaty brown loaf from home plate. It plopped onto the hardwood with a weighty promise. Lisa hoisted the steamy log into her hand and hurled it at the Neanderthal victim. Carla caught the fecal onslaught, right in the squared jaw of her caveman like profile. Lisa turned, and as she exited the room said..." welcome to the zoo." She slowly faced Carla, then longingly looked out the window into the dark night. She turned, and as she slowly closed the bedroom door, whispered......" for we are all animals."...... " we are all animals"

THE WORST THING YOULL EVER READ......

Im about to lay out some of my latest material on you....and I just need to warn you.

Its hideously offensive.

Not offensive in the way that I like to walk into a dinner party, and go around the room to ask everyone how they feel about the word nigger, as long as youre using it on your grandmother....

Not offensive in the way I like to walk up to a urinal at an Alabama concert, and whisper under my breath things like......" im a toilet mouth slut", or " hey...fabulous balls."

Not even offensive in the way that Ill see a person in a wheel chair and laugh my ass off for 45 minutes.

Nope, this is truly horrible.....so.........just saying.......

If you've suffered emotional pain from a miscarriage or abortion...

do NOT proceed.

Okay. Are they gone? Are the cool people still here?

tee hee hee.....lets go.

So, we were in New Orleans over the weekend, and after a night of imbibing of the grape...I felt like poop butt. I texted my friend Lisa in the morning, and simply said.....' I feel miscarriage-y" She immediately called me, and let me know that she is willing to ignore a fag up to a point, but the word " miscarriage-y", deserved a phone call. Little did I know that that one text message, would inspire an entire afternoon of abortion and miscarriage material.

*** I want to design a line of greeting cards. One card, depicts fluffy white clouds. Its a heavenly scene, replete with a soft blue sky, and buttery rays of sunlight, filtering through the cotton-esque clouds. In the center will be a large wire coat hanger, with a cherub faced baby perched on the side. His little angel wings gently float out to the sides, and a small halo hovers around his smooth, bald head. He is staring up to the awaiting pearly gates, and he is holding a small harp. On the inside...it simply says....

" Congrat-abortions."

The other card is a water color scenerio. Spring time trees, just beginning to bloom their young buds. A meadow, dancing with the vibrant colors of June's flowers. A trickling stream, grazing lambs......butterflys. The card opens to reveal...

" This was going to be a sympathy card for your miscarriage....but I heard that the father was black. So I guess..... congratulations!!!"

*** I also really feel like there should be a drag queen named Missy Carriage. She would kind of barely be able to maneuver...and come out of from side stage.... in a slow, labored way. She would mostly be bald, but with just a few little fine strands of hair coming down, and she would have a featureless face except for bright red, glamorous lips. She would be covered in blood like Sissy Spacek from Carrie, she'd be holding a huge dirty martini, and a long fleshly pink chord would be coming out of the bottom of her dress. The song she lip syncs to?

" I will survive".

*** I like to use my friend Lisa in a lot of scenerios...mostly because she is a whore and has had a ton of abortions and miscarriages.

#1.

" Lisa, have you ever gone to the toilet, pulled out your tampon...saw a little shrimp attached to it, and yelled out.....IM GONNA NAME YOU SCAMPI!!!!"

#2.

One time a bunch of friends and I were at dinner with Lisa. She excused herself from the table, went to the restroom, and came back 20 minutes later. Everyone said..."gosh Lisa, what took you so long?

She grabbed her fork, pounded it against the table and yelled......" Urgh!!! I just had a miscarriage and I feel ten pounds lighter! WHO WANTS DESSERT?!?!"

#3.

One time Russ and I were watching this show about strange sexual fetishes. One of shows was about people who were in three way relationships. One was about a 75 year old woman named Hattie who only dates guys under 30. One was about women who had intense orgasms while in child birth. So....of course....

I picture my friend Lisa, laying down on the gurney. Her legs are up, and the doctor is sucking out her unborn child. She begins to writhe and moan, licking her glossy lips and tweaking her nipples......theres just something about getting an abortion that gets her off. She peaks all over the place, and when she is done......she looks through her legs and says...." is your name Doctor Goldenstein......or Doctor Casanova!

Meow!"

Thats when he looks up at her through her legs, and gives her a mischievous grin, and bloody thumbs up.

#4.

"Lisa....do you want a cocktail"

" Well I really should'nt.....but....wait one second".

( She pelvic thrusts, and kweefs)

" Shit, that one was a boy. "

#5.

Lisa...after your next abortion, I want you to put your lips right up to John's ears as he is about to insert it in you, and say..." treat my vagina like the cemetery that it is. " Wouldnt that be hot?

Okay everyone...well.....Im off to Hell. Kisses.

I GOT ALL MY SISTERS, WITH ME

Im not really the world's biggest fan of children. In small doses, and individually....sure. I can hang out......... maybe get my coloring on, watch some Sponge Bob. No problem. But mostly, I have zero patience for the screaming, the snot, and the whining. I dont have time for their attention hog ways, and big doe eyes.

And if the kids are white.....

GROAN. Double whammy.

Black kids are cuter than white kids, and dont act like you dont agree. Whenever someone shows me their new born white baby, Im always like....." Ya. Wow. Nice pink blotches and featureless dough face. So, listen......is the dad hot, and is he bi-curious?" When I see a little black baby, my obsession is scorching hot, and complete....and if Im not able to taste little black baby toes, then you'll KNOW what screaming, snot, and whining is all about. It'll all be coming from my face, out of the pure frustration of not being able to have little chocolate bite-ables in my salivating mouth.

Now and again, people ask Russ and I if we would ever adopt.

" oh...we plan on it," I say. " but only black babies. I point my finger hard into their chest, emphasizing each syllable. I look stearnly into their eyes, so they know I mean business.

"o-nly black ba-bies."

We will adopt 5, total....and we have them all planned out.

#1. Chardonnay:

Chardonnay is the hottest little bitch you're ever going to meet, and that's all there is. Next time you open a Cosmo magazine to get an eye full of perfection, immediately realize that your search is fruitless, call Naomi Campbell's management team to book her a first class airline ticket to where you are, allow her punch you in the collarbone with blood diamonds until you RECOGNIZE, then show her a picture of little Chardonnay...so she can reel, squeal, and politely step off of the cat walk, to allow TRUE brown succulence to set it on fire.

TROOF!

Chardonnay is the beauty pageant baby. We arent going to bother with putting her into school, because she is pretty. Plus, that cuts into rehearsal time. I dont care if she is only four. She BETTER work that shit, and work it CORRECT. If not, then itll be another sleepless night of watching the Beyonce Live In London DVD, over...and over....and over...and over...and over.....and over....

again.

" Oh, youre tired, and you want some water? HHhhhmmm....then maybe you SHOULD'VE done

prance, prance, head flip, wink, shoulder shimmy, pussy pop....

instead of....

prance, prance, head flip, wink, GLAMOR HANDS, pussy pop.

WHO'S A LITTLE IDIOT?!?!??!? YOU, ......IDIOT!!! Now hit "play", again...and watch how Beyonce doesnt screw shit up. And would it kill you to wet your lips?

Parenting is so difficult. Dont act like you know.

Vagenta:

Little Vagenta is the real sister to Chardonnay. She is very plain looking, but bordering on hideous. She is too thin, and gangley. Her nose is kind of like a Jew nose, but on a little black girl. She is most definitely wearing coke bottle glasses, and her hair is a shit mess. You cant do a single thing with it. She is a smarty pants like no other, and is always in the library. In reality, she longs to be Chardonnay. She wants glitz, glamor, and craves to be in spotlight. We keep her locked up in the attic when Chardonnay is in rehearsal, because Vagenta's pleading stare just makes her face look even more like rotting puke mixed with shit. Add a pleading stare onto an already hideous monstrosity...and its "lunch coming up", time. She can hear Chardonnay practicing, so she opens the attic window, and sings into the cool night air. Her voice is like melted honey. She is pitch perfect. Tiny blue birds perch on a branch near by, to hear the melodious tune. Vagenta looks up at the black sky, and a tiny tear trickles down her cheek. Thats when I march upstairs and chuck an encyclopedia at her esophagus. "NO SINGING!!!! YOURE TOO UGLY TO SING!"

See? Encouraging children to pursue their strengths, also falls under...' good parenting". Youre learning so much!

You're welcome.

Soiree:

Little Soiree is borderline retarded, but in a crazy/life of the party/fun way!!! We dont bother sending her to school either, because she makes us laugh..and thats what keeps Russ from slipping into a gruesome depression over the fact that we now have children together, and there is now no chance of him being free of my maniacal grip.......

"You hear that, Russ?......NO CHANCE!!!

MMMMMUUUAAAHHHAAAHHAAA!!!"

We are sure to teach Soiree every swear word by the age of 3, and what is so great about Soiree.... is her ability to repeat, like a cockatoo. We'll go to the grocery store, place her in the front of the carriage, pause while we are in the seafood department, and force her to call out...

" cunt explosion......aisle 5. "

Oh Soiree. Hurry up and turn 21, so we can dump Ecstasy down your throat, and take you to every gay rave in the US and Canada.

Pork Fried Rice:

Little Pork Fried Rice is our Asian baby. She is a silky haired lotus, and doesn't speak. Thats fine, because she is a violin prodigy, and she dont need to talk, thank you!!!! She is terrified of Soiree, which is why we lock both of them in a closet sometimes, and just guffaw about it. Children truly DO provide so much joy!!!!

Harvey Milk:

I was with Russ recently, and saw an African American albino boy, in downtown Boston. He was very Justin Timberlake-ish but not as wigga. I was immediately obsessed and wanted to touch his blondish/reddish afro, while I placed my face inches from his, and just stared into his pinkish eyes. I withheld, because I didnt feel like going to prison that day. But I want one. Ill hold up my tanned arm next to his milky white arm and then say...." Janet, Michael......Janet, Michael." Then Ill say....

"I am white, but my skin is brown. You are black, but your skin is white. "

Ill pause for a moment to really let that set in, but then Soiree will bust through the door, push him to the ground, call him a cum stain, then start biting his legs.

Russ and I will sit back, warmly smile, put our arms around each other, stare at our family, and then remember that Vagenta has been locked in the attic for 8 days with no food or water. Then we'll relax, because its not like it was Chardonnay or Soiree.

"MOAN"-A LISA!!!!!!!

WARNING!!!! EVERYTHING in all of my blogs, is 100% factual. Absolutely NOTHING is fabricated.

My best friend's name is Lisa, and I abuse the mother fucking shit out of her. We have been friends for over 20 years, so who is the actual person with severe mental deficiency? The abuser, or the one who keeps coming back for more....2 decades in a row? I think its kind of like the battered wife, who just cant seem to leave.... although she knows she should. Ill give Lisa a good verbal backhand like....." Really Lisa? Youre gonna eat......ice cream? I mean, okay. But dont expect ME to do your errands, when you lose your foot to Diabetes. She ALWAYS comes back for more. I mean the abuse...AND the ice cream.

I met Lisa when I was 16, and she was 49. Lol. Did you read that Lisa?!?!? Or do you even get the joke?

Sigh...See, cause that would make you almost 70 years old now, Lisa.

Forget it people. She doesn't get the joke. Arent old, heavy people just sad?

Lisa tells the story about how when she was a young teenager, she was watching Eddie Murphy on Saturday Night Live. He was doing a skit where he was a queeny hairdresser, and according to her....thats when she thought...

" Ive gotta get me one of those".

And boy did she ever. She found the best one!

My abuse to Lisa, and varied and brutal. I really like to come at her from every angle, and here are just a few of the ways I make sure she doesn't get too full of herself.

VERBAL ASSAULTS:

#1. Lisa...do you ever just sit..... and try to picture what your sister's vagina looks like?

#2. Lisa, when its time to be intimate with John, do you ever.....lay there, and as he is crawling on top of you.....do you ever place your lips right next to his ear, and say something like...

- " Make love to me, for I am your wife ....and the mother of your children. Enter me, where those very children came out. "

* Im also going to throw into this section, the fact that Im CONSTANTLY trying to talk Lisa into introducing another person into her marriage. "Lisa, wouldn't it be sexy if...I dont know..maybe some night John came home with some woman he met out at a bar named Brenda. She has black hair, but its the kind of black thats too black....and has been dyed too much with a sweet box of CVS brand hair color. She likes a good ciggy, first thing in the morning, and her vagina smells like abortions. She loves a nice acid washed jean short, and wears a bandanna tied around her wrist. She loves Joan Jett, and WWF. Maybe in the morning, you get out of bed, and youre making breakfast. Your kids are at the table waiting, and they notice the strap of your too thin nighty, keeps falling over your shoulder. But you dont care..because you know PASSION! Youre cooking up some eggs, and the scents from the night before, waft from your fingers up to your alert nostrils. MMMmm....abortions, and eggs!

Isnt it ironic? Dont you think?

John saunters out, with a devil may care grin. ' Oh...hello Mrs. Johnson,"...he says. He pats you on the fanny as he takes a seat. " Oh...good morning Mr Johnson. Would you like eggs?.......

or legs?"

This is when Lisa lets out a throaty chortle... from her lips...and...."her lips".

Thats when Brenda comes out from the bedroom and the children look up.

" Girls....this is Brenda. She'll be sharing our life......"

Lisa walks to Brenda, and presses a lingering kiss on her dry, barren lips.

"She is earth, air, fire, and water. Especially water....

in my panty no no."

Eh, she still isnt going for it. ill keep working on it.

#3. (on the phone). Sigh....Lisa....you haven't gotten any fatter have you? You were PRETTY big the last time I saw you.

#4. My introduction to someone she doesn't know...." This is my friend Lisa. She has long black hairs growing out of her nipples.

#5. (While in the produce aisle of a grocery store.) " Lisa......this apple looks good!" ( I proceed to drag my nostrils over the entire body of the apple while sniffing..and then return it to the pile.) " NOPE!!! That one wasnt good. Lisa? ...LISA?!?!?!? Where are you going?

#6. Lisa....would you rather give me oral sex or eat out a REALLY dirty stranger's pussy? And I mean...REALLY blow me. Just sucking, all night long. Going for broke. Lisa? Are you picturing it?

#7. Lisa, I love your hair color. Its like God puked, spun it into gold, and then stuck it on your head.

#8. Lisa.....when you're putting in a tampon....do you ever just throw your head back, lick your fire engine red lips, and savor the sensation?

#9. (When somebody mistakes us for being married). " ME?!?!? MARRIED TO HER?!?!? Um.....no thank you. Im all set with AIDS.

#10. Lisa....has anyone ever told you that you have cow tits?

#11. (Again...upon introducing her to someone she doesnt know). This is my friend Lisa. What would you say you like least about her? Her muffin top or camel toe?" Lisa....turn around good...so they can really see your muffin top.

#12. ( When we are in a public, confined area). Urgh! Lisa! Im buying some handy wipes...I can smell your quim!!! What? Lisa...no one knows what a "quim", is.

PHYSICAL ASSAULTS:

#1. I REALLY like it when we are in an Applebee's parking lot, or any very public place, and grab her from behind and just ram her ass as hard as I can. She screams, but then I remind her that I need to let people see that she is getting what she deserves. Its most effective when screaming out, " Take it, bitch!" or, " Youve been waiting for this all night, whore!

2. When we find ourselves on a dance floor, and Lisa's had herself a Long Island Iced Tea.....she has a patented dance move. That move is.....I come up behind her, grab her by the hands...and make her jerk off for everyone. I forcefully guide her hand down to her crotch, and she GOES TO TOWN. I berate for being so horny and for being DISGUSTING because I know she gets off on people watching. She just keeps on dancin' and jerkin'. Its who she is.

#3. Im forever hand raping her jugs. Im always trying to undo her bra, put my finger in her butt, or caress her loins. I try to soothe her by saying, ' c'mom baby, its gonna feel good. Isnt it hot knowing that I have been with thousands of men, but Im attracted to YOU, Lisa? Can you smell them on me? Ya? But I want YOU, Lisa? isnt that hot? "

LISA'S NICKNAMES

-White Shart Johnson

-Low Tide Johnson

-Juicy Rewards Johnson

-Juicy Details Johnson

-Juicy Contradictions Johnson

-Neptune's Garden Johnson

-Soft & Crafty Johnson

-Thick & Thirsty Johnson

-Burly Angel

-Loads of Hope Johnson

-Thunder Fuck Johnson

-Pillow Fuck Johnson

In closing, I love Lisa like Ive loved no other. She is my earth, air, fire, and water. Especially water. Because she loves it when I piss on her face.