I Am Doll Parts, Or… “How I Came to Live in The Shit Hole Garage Apartment Which was not Really a Garage Apartment, but only a Shit-Hole Underneath a Garage Apartment.”

“I Fake it so real I am beyond Fake.”

Yes, I’m In-Love With Courtney Love.

“I Fake it so real I am beyond Fake.”

Redundant?

Yes, I Know

 

Memory fails, but I have pieced together something approaching honest fact. I lost my posh digs at Ponderosa Apartments, and was forced to down-size.

Madelyn My Sister (step-sister)

“How Do You Hold A Moonbeam In Your Hand?”

was living large in the ‘Proper Garage Apartment’ and was ‘in good’ with the Landlord. She informed me he had this ‘wonderful little apartment’ for rent, which was ‘just perfect’ for me. Read CHEAP.

I checked it out, paid my fifty bucks and moved in. The moving in took all of two minutes, for I had not much to move.

Working for Ruth at her Liquor store in Ladonia and making a solid three dollars fifty cents an hour (plus ‘benefits), it was indeed, ‘perfect’ for me.

Now mind you, I never complained about living in such a place. After all, it did suit me and no one would have cared anyhow if it didn’t. It had some kind of ‘certain charm (just like this place) to be sure.

How many folks could invite a guest into their home and lead them past the shitter before arriving into the living room/bedroom/kitchen/study proper? As far as I knew, I had the only such place in all of Commerce. It was special.

And truth be told, I did some ‘entertaining’ there a couple of times. The only person who I would invite over was my girlfriend. She never judged me. She was always happy to be with me, no matter the venue. (Yes, that sounds conceited, but there it is Gentle Reader—c’est vrai, or quel dommage, or… choose your own français).

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Kinda, Slightly, Up-Dated. And Y’all Just Know, I Am Inherently Lyin’…. “How I came to live in the Shit Hole Garage Apartment which was not really a garage apartment, but only a Shit Hole underneath a garage apartment”

“I Fake it so real I am beyond Fake.”

 

Memory fails, but I have pieced together something approaching honest fact. I lost my posh digs at Ponderosa Apartments, and was forced to down-size.

Madelyn, My Sis,

was living large in the ‘Proper Garage Apartment’ and was ‘in good’ with the Landlord. She informed me he had this ‘wonderful little apartment’ for rent, which was ‘just perfect’ for me. Read CHEAP.

I checked it out, paid my fifty bucks and moved in. The moving in took all of two minutes, for I had not much to move.

Working for Ruth at her Liquor store in Ladonia and making a solid three dollars fifty cents an hour (plus ‘benefits), it was indeed, ‘perfect’ for me.

Now mind you, I never complained about living in such a place. After all, it did suit me and no one would have cared anyhow if it didn’t. It had some kind of ‘certain charm (just like this place) to be sure.

How many folks could invite a guest into their home and lead them past the shitter before arriving into the living room/bedroom/kitchen/study proper? As far as I knew, I had the only such place in all of Commerce. It was special.

And truth be told, I did some ‘entertaining’ there a couple of times. The only person who I would invite over was my girlfriend. She never judged me. She was always happy to be with me, no matter the venue. (Yes, that sounds conceited, but there it is Gentle Reader—c’est vrai, or quel dommage, or… choose your own français).

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Haaha! Re-Post. “My Mother The Car”

My Mother The Car Intro

*****

Slightly ‘dated’ photo of Honey Grove above.

Sometime shortly after I mustered out of the U.S. Navy…
I found me suddenly in need of a car, a vehicle, a mode of transport, fuckin’ wheels.
Never really havin’ given two shits ‘bout such, I found myself in front of a pawn shop in Honey Grove Texas early one morning. Too early, in fact.

But, I skip ahead (as is my wont)

Let us go back in time (just a few hours; be patient)
I had fallen ‘in love’ with a woman (It happens)
Got drunk one late night; decided I needed counsel (from Peanut—My Yoda—problem was, I was in Commerce, Texas and Yoda was in Honey Grove, miles and miles and styles away)
What to do?
Drive to see him on Endor.
Jumped into my chariot and almost made it.
Alas! A bar ditch jumped up in front of me.
The car did not survive.
Happily, I did, but now I had a real problem:
Yoda was still miles away.
Walked the two miles to HG and spied a vehicle “For Sale”
Walked in to the pawn shop and inquired:
“Yall take credit cards?”
“No Son; we do not.”
“Damn shame,” I said. “’Cause I wanna buy that car y’all got for sale out yonder. Well see ya.”
“Wait! Wait! We can make an exception!”
“OK, gas her up and get her ready.”

***

Found Peanut and some how I don’t know how… He managed to get ‘hold of a tractor and pull my dead “La Bomba” Out of the bar ditch and drag her back to his front lawn (at the end of eight miles of bad Texas road) Where she probably still resides today–languishing away.

And the rest, as they say, is History.

P.S. This post was inspired by a memory my good friend Mark, over at

http://markbialczak.com/

brought out in my mind. Thanks Mark. Peace On!

PPS: The ‘Car’ Had a half-life about as long as a bottle of Jim Beam in my house. 

Yet Another Re-RuM Just for Fun: “How I came to live in the Shit Hole Garage Apartment which was not really a garage apartment, but only a Shit Hole Underneath a Garage Apartment…”

“I Fake it so real I am beyond Fake.”

Street Cred: Courtney

****

Memory fails, but I have pieced together something approaching honest fact. I lost my posh digs at Ponderosa Apartments, and was forced to down-size.

My Sis, Madelyn, was living large in the ‘Proper Garage Apartment’ and was ‘in good’ with the Landlord. She informed me he had this ‘wonderful little apartment’ for rent, which was ‘just perfect’ for me. Read CHEAP.

I checked it out, paid my fifty bucks and moved in. The moving in took all of two minutes, for I had not much to move.

Working for Ruth at her Liquor store in Ladonia and making a solid three dollars fifty cents an hour (plus ‘benefits), it was indeed, ‘perfect’ for me.

Now mind you, I never complained about living in such a place. After all, it did suit me and no one would have cared anyhow if it didn’t. It had some kind of ‘certain charm (just like this place) to be sure.

How many folks could invite a guest into their home and lead them past the shitter before arriving into the living room/bedroom/kitchen/study proper? As far as I knew, I had the only such place in all of Commerce. It was special.

And truth be told, I did some ‘entertaining’ there a couple of times. The only person who I would invite over was my girlfriend. She never judged me. She was always happy to be with me, no matter the venue. (Yes, that sounds conceited, but there it is Gentle Reader—c’est vrai, or quel dommage, or… choose your own français).

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Yes! I am Stupid Getting Back In-Touch With My Inner-Alcoholic. I’d Like to Share This Stagger Down Memory Lane: Still “Madelyn Related”—This Post is all over som place— sort thru it I cannot see again!

“How I came to live in the Shit Hole Garage Apartment which was not really a garage apartment, but only a Shit Hole underneath a garage apartment” Oh, and PS, Fuck You WordPress!

“I Fake it so real I am beyond Fake.”

I am beyond Fake!

Getting to Know Me:

Cred: Rodgers & Hammerstein

Marni Nixon (dubbing Deborah Kerr) and Chorus sing “Getting To Know You” from the 1956 film version of THE KING AND I

And WP is STUPID!!! I cannot arrange this shit in proper order!

Figure it out if you can!

And Fuck YOU WordPress!

***

For Ref Regarding Marni Nixon: 

Natalie Would, If She Could… Have Me! How Many times Have I Re-Posted This One? Screw it! Read It Again. I am Over-Proud of it! “Tonight Tonight!” (Tried to Edit it. But Guess What? WordPress is STUPID!!)

Memory fails, but I have pieced together something approaching honest fact. I lost my posh digs at Ponderosa Apartments, and was forced to down-size.

Madelyn, My Sis,

was living large in the ‘Proper Garage Apartment’ and was ‘in good’ with the Landlord. She informed me he had this ‘wonderful little apartment’ for rent, which was ‘just perfect’ for me. Read CHEAP.

I checked it out, paid my fifty bucks and moved in. The moving in took all of two minutes, for I had not much to move.

Working for Ruth at her Liquor store in Ladonia and making a solid three dollars fifty cents an hour (plus ‘benefits), it was indeed, ‘perfect’ for me.

Now mind you, I never complained about living in such a place. After all, it did suit me and no one would have cared anyhow if it didn’t. It had some kind of ‘certain charm (just like this place) to be sure.

How many folks could invite a guest into their home and lead them past the shitter before arriving into the living room/bedroom/kitchen/study proper? As far as I knew, I had the only such place in all of Commerce. It was special.

And truth be told, I did some ‘entertaining’ there a couple of times. The only person who I would invite over was my girlfriend. She never judged me. She was always happy to be with me, no matter the venue. (Yes, that sounds conceited, but there it is Gentle Reader—c’est vrai, or quel dommage, or… choose your own français).

Continue reading

Expanded Alert! Someone Recently “Liked” This. So Why not re-post it? Just fer Fun. How I came to live in the Shit Hole Garage Apartment which was not really a garage apartment, but only a Shit Hole underneath a garage apartment. Fifty bucks a month? I’m all in!

Oh Screw it! This Post is All Fukked Up.

I’ll edit it Later

Maybe

Probably Not Gonna Happen

Sorry Y’all

“I Fake it so real I am beyond Fake.”

(Sorry Y’alls. My Life is Somewhat complicated)

You board this train…

Oh Never mind

I am ‘suicide’ on steroids

I just wanna be the ‘gurl’ with the moist cake

(This is all tongue-in-cheek, btw)

Don’t Get Frantic

Nor Panic

I’ll be fine

I’ll survive

Cred for share: shywwa

I just wish I could find a soft woman to invade my life

Survive. Stay Alive

What other choice do I have?

Girl With The Most Cake

 

Memory fails, but I have pieced together something approaching honest fact. I lost my posh digs at Ponderosa Apartments, and was forced to down-size.

Madelyn My Sister (step-sister)

was living large in the ‘Proper Garage Apartment’ and was ‘in good’ with the Landlord. She informed me he had this ‘wonderful little apartment’ for rent, which was ‘just perfect’ for me. Read CHEAP.

I checked it out, paid my fifty bucks and moved in. The moving in took all of two minutes, for I had not much to move.

Working for Ruth at her Liquor store in Ladonia and making a solid three dollars fifty cents an hour (plus ‘benefits), it was indeed, ‘perfect’ for me.

Now mind you, I never complained about living in such a place. After all, it did suit me and no one would have cared anyhow if it didn’t. It had some kind of ‘certain charm (just like this place) to be sure.

How many folks could invite a guest into their home and lead them past the shitter before arriving into the living room/bedroom/kitchen/study proper? As far as I knew, I had the only such place in all of Commerce. It was special.

And truth be told, I did some ‘entertaining’ there a couple of times. The only person who I would invite over was my girlfriend. She never judged me. She was always happy to be with me, no matter the venue. (Yes, that sounds conceited, but there it is Gentle Reader—c’est vrai, or quel dommage, or… choose your own français).

Continue reading