My regular readers wouldn’t appreciate this blog, Dear Older and Semi-Faithful-But-Rationalized-Into-Calling-Yourself-Faithful Reader. Therefore, I’ve been given the keys to So, here’s hoping, as sort of a vacation home, if you will. If one would consider a seldom-used blog originating out of Benton, Arkansas, a prime spot for a vacation home. More like it’s a post-apocalyptic barren wasteland with tumbleweeds and Norman from Discovery rolling by (because, Honey, even after the end of times, ol’ Norma will still be around). I shall make the best of things and behave as a real lady would.
My regular readers, that is, my new regular readers, over at Shake expect onomatopoeia and alliteration, sincerity and poetic fire, perfect rhyme in perfect meter, memories and regrets, and of course love in haiku form. My old regular reader(s) expect wit and humor, with a pinch, or, more likely, a double-fistful of Gay, with lots of Crisco. Bitch slaps with imperfect grammar and Bitch Pleases with snaps and neck movements in clearly inappropriate places. Then there are my irregular readers, and for them, I suggest removing the large buttplug from their rectums.
I didn’t say this would be pretty.
I thought about what to write about here for my big return to blogging. I thought about composing a parody of my friends with a little ditty called The G Word, starring LaDon (D) and Rayne, Darwin and Clark (of DarwinandClark), Tug and Clark (of TugandClark) and Krysof and the Fabulous Ryan, and of course their hag Whoria. Now, Dear Reader, this would be an interesting project, but it would be destined to fail.
You’d have LaDon (D), the workaholic who secretly longs to perform drag as Reba, who would be the center of the piece. Writing his part would be easy because I could just copy and paste the same dialogue over and over and over again, but I’m afraid the audience wouldn’t be there long because he’d fire them. Or at least orchestrate their dismissal through creative if not entirely legal ways. Perhaps through an ill-timed drug test? But regardless, yes, writing his part would be a breeze.
Not as easy as writing the part of Rayne Fuggles, though, who would never have any dialogue. Darwin and Clark would hardly appear, choosing instead to socialize with heterosexual people in the boring knock off, The B Word (duh, Breeders!). Tug’s head would explode when several of his never-before-seen children return home (many of them with children and pets of their own, some in the form of furry coats, all of them strangely linked to pizza) and his showplace is turned into a common dorm room. Clark of TugAndClark wouldn’t survive long because he’d be robbed and killed walking between he and Tug’s house in the ghettos of Ryant. He’d cry for help but no one would hear him because his cries would be so delicate. And then Whoria would have her own spin off which would get canceled after three installments and end abruptly with the poor dear becoming involved with a suitor whose sexual fantasies center around reenacting the first three minutes of every single episode of Six Feet Under with Whoria herself as the star. She’d survive the first couple of rolls in the hay, but not the one involving a giant mixing vat. Her suitor would, however, keep putting her back together again. The only characters that would really draw the audience in would be that of Krystof and Ryan, the adorable couple destined for greatness. But they are so fabulous, really, they might just make the audience hate themselves because they could never live up to the standards set by such handsome, talented, lovely individuals.
So no G Word for now. For now, all you get is a taste. Because, when you think about it, is the world really ready for Rayne Fuggles?
Bryan’s status is Done.
So, here's hoping. 