Ya Gotta Do What Ya Gotta Do...

I'm becoming friends with my beeotch Ki$ha at In Through The Out Door, and she posted Girl Talk Thursday. Hers was so effing funny, that I had to rob her blind...

Of the postie, that is.

What would you girls do? Remember, there are no consequences for illegality.

You won't go to jail. You won't be subpoenaed by your mother. Hell, you might even find some followers.

~Would you run naked through the streets of New York, shouting random things that prove you needed to be committed?

~Would you stalk David Boreanaz until he made love to you in the back of a Honda (my anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hon...and I got those in spades, my Special Agent Seeley Booth)?

(back off, bitches. He's MINE)

~Or would you be content to do the same thing you're doing now?

You'll have to check Ki$ha's out (and find her post as to why I've put $ in her name).

Me?

First thing I'd do would be to have The Sex with David Boreanaz in the most inappropriate place.

Like the Queen's lap.

With my RL husband (Mr Realist) behind a digicam.

Who has that hot midget girl from American Pie: Naked Mile with him (Mika Winkler, Mr R just told me).

Helping (if you know what I mean).

Kisha's going to be a stripper to make money for our raging drug habit. Coke, smack, 'ludes, pot, E, LSD, crack, whatevs.

I'd finally be able to tell people to go fuck (Our Father...) themselves when they do or ask or say something that I find moronic (which happens on a moment to moment basis). Or at least slap them with a dead fish.

I'd go to NYC and toss a penny off the top of the Empire State Building. Because I can, LDs.

I'd make out with an assload of people that I've always wanted to make out with.

I'd finish my book and publish it...and in the Acknowledgements, I'd put "And to X, for unknowingly allowing me to write when my work was finished for the day."

I'd kidnap all of my bitches and we'd go party like madwomen down in Cabo somewhere for a couple of weeks, and when we returned, relaxed, tan, and happy, the husbands or boyfriends or significant others would just be happy that we're home and relaxed and would never take us for granted again.

What would you do?

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your Queen-humping, Special Agent Sexing, trout-slapping

Mrs Dreamer