So instead of everyone in Wheat taking holidays off, they mark them with the Holiday Flea Market, which is  a big to-do around town.  It’s safe to say that everyone who is not selling, is buying.  Hell, I even saw a few people buy, and then turn right around and sell.

I had a plan to do the same thing with a gorgeous Colonel Sanders KFC cookie jar I picked up for a buck, but that spooky witch from the Bag of Bargains - Constance Shine - was there with her boyfriend and his two unruly kids.  He was letting them light off sparklers and I just know Constance said something to them, because before you knew it, the goons were chasing me around and pelting me in the back of the head.  I nearly caught on fire twice, and the last time I was trying to make a getaway and I tripped over a stroller and dropped my cookie jar.

Kids suck.

This is what it looked like before the mishap.

What’s this shit about Louis Vuitton (”The Ugly Purse People”) suing eBay and winning $63 million because they got sore that people were buying and selling phony bags? I can’t even believe it! Do they think everyday folk can afford hundreds and THOUSANDS of dollars on their crummy brown bags? Some of us have to turn to places like eBay and AdequateFakes.com for groovy knockoffs of things we can’t afford.

I just about threw up all over myself when I saw how much L.V. wanted for this little dinky bag called a “Beverly Clutch.” Yes, it was $785. Wow, you could buy a previously owned car or a few TVs for that kind of dough. But if you buy the knockoff brand, you can look just as ugly as the dope who spent almost 8 bills, and still have tons of cash left over to visit a massage parlor or something. I’m just saying. If you don’t believe me, just check out the two pictures below. One is the real and true bag and the other is a $99 knockoff from AdequateFakes.com - can you tell the difference? Hell, me either. At any rate, Louis Vuitton can kiss my broke ass.

Woo hoo.

I was up bright and early this Monday, my stomach full of all that anticipation and butterflies that accompany starting a new job.  I walked over to the Bag of Bargains supermarket and introduced myself to the bakery manager Constance Shine, who was 4-cups-of-coffee jittery and seemed very wary of me.  She gave me a blue smock and a store button that said “We ARE Your Double Coupon Connection!” and showed me where the “cake decorating station” was.  After about 3 minutes of eyeballing everything, I called Constance over and asked her to “show me what you’re capable of.”  She just looked at me.  Oh, her hands were too shaky to do any decorating, so I knew I was gonna have to pull something out of my hat (or ass).

I conned one of the bakery case clerks into showing me where they keep the cake, which turned out to be in the freezer.  I was excited for about 2 minutes, until I realized the cakes had no frosting on them.  Well….  I studied the stuff they had in the display case and came to the conclusion that one frozen sheet of cake would need to be cut into numerous pieces to get the right rectangular size, so I cut all sorts of shapes.  The manager came by and gave me another look, so I just acted “creative” and waved her off and said, “Don’t interrupt my creative process, man!  I doing art!”

The frosting comes in big buckets and I used a big ice cream scoop to put blobs of it all over the top.  My first cake looked like it was covered with snowballs that had been sliced in half.  I decided to fill in all the cracks and curves with this giant metal thing that looked like a silver tongue depressor.  The top of the cake was kind of lopsided, and the frosting was about four inches thick, but I was happy with it.  I went and screwed it all up when I tried to make a flower and it ended up looking like piles of blue ribbons strewn all over the top of my cake.

I stuck it in the back and then took a break.  When I came back, some old lady with bad eyes was checking things out and I asked if she was looking for a cake.  When she said, “I don’t know,” I told her, “You look like the kind of gal who likes lots of frosting!”  She gave me a funny look, but bought my cake when I offered to mark it half off.  She nearly tipped over when she tried to carry the box over to the check out, but I’m not surprised because the damn thing weighed about 25 pounds with all that frosting on it.

I practiced my flowers for the rest of the shift (I’m gonna have to Google a tutorial or something) and when Constance Shine came over after her smoke break and asked how things were going, I proudly said I had personally sold every cake I had decorated.  She seemed skeptical about that, but that’s her problem.

Tastes just like handmade!

Oh wow….

Miss an episode? Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

So this morning, I tried to talk Haiku Sue into finding a church we could go to. I read through the listings in the Wheat Register and they had a lot to pick from: Catholic, Lutheran, United Methodist, First Baptist, Congregational and even a Kingdom Hall, as well as a Sanctuary of the Spirit. You know me, I called all of them up beforehand and tried to figure out which one had the best snack hour after the service.

I had a nice chat with a gal named Doraleen who assured me not only did the Sanctuary of the Spirit have great snack foods afterwards, but that they don’t do that whole door-to-door follow up or enforce any kind of an unspoken dress code that forces everyone go out and drop a couple hundreds at the mall to gussy themselves up for church. I was there.

I figured Haiku Sue was in deep spiritual need (on account of her fling with married Duke), but she claimed a headache, so I left her in bed. I am sure she phoned up Duke as soon as I left, because I saw his truck peeling down the road as I was walking to the church.

The service was OK, but kind of long. And whoever was in charge of snacks this week bought everything Day Old, because nothing had that oh-so-fresh feeling. To make matters worse, Doraleen hooked up with me during snacks and actually gave me a plastic tub of donut holes that hadn’t been opened, and asked if I would take them back to the Bag of Bargains store and ask for “my” money back. I told her I would do it if I could keep half.

So I trudged over to the store with my container and waited for about ten minutes at the service counter. Like most places, they were experiencing a heavy after-church rush. By the time the harried clerk got to me, she grabbed a clipboard and said: “Sorry to make you stand there. You’re here for the interview, right?”

I should have held up my donut holes and straightened everything out right on the spot, but instead I said: “Yes.”

Without another word, she jumped over the counter and motioned for me to follow her. Hell, I’m a follower. We went up these steep stairs to a loft-life office that overlooked the whole Bargain emporium. I felt such a rush of power, it was like looking out over the Wall Street trading floor, or whatever they call it. She told me to sit in a chair and that “the manager would be with me as soon as humanly possible.” She left me there alone, so I did what any other normal person would have done under those circumstances. I cracked open that tub of donut holes and started munching. Snacking calms my nerves.

I wasn’t really dressed for a job interview (and to make matters worse, I now had powdered sugar all over the front of me), so when the frazzled 20 year old came up the stairs and took a seat, I immediately apologized for my appearance. I think I blurted out something like: “I hope you don’t take points off because I look like dogshit,” or something.

He pointed at that all sugar and said, “I can see you’re well qualified. It’s good to see someone who wants to be our new cake decorator is so passionate about the art of cake design that she would whip us up some samples.”

I remember throwing up my hands and grinning like a dope and yelling, “Oh yeah! I was passing them out and everyone loved them!” The kid looked a little disappointed that there wasn’t any cake for him, but I guess if you’re 20 years old and already stuck in a grocery store management job that you’ll probably have for the next thirty years, you’re used to disappointment. He just said: “So can you start tomorrow?”

I told him I could, and he said to come in at eight sharp and the bakery manager - Constance Shine - would show me where all the equipment and supplies were kept and such as. Oh wow. So I went into the store to return someone else’s Day Old donut holes and walked out a cake decorator. Now you can’t tell me that going to church doesn’t pay off in the end. Praise be!

Miracle Food!

Hey and all like that. It’s been awhile since I’ve peeked at some of the Google search terms people are typing to find my blog. Here are just a few of the gems:

• found grandmas dildo
• phone sex mama
• tater twister curly cutter
• bible for one dollar
• how to punish a slut
• jody you suck
• why are oogie boards evil
• i want to look like paula deen
• sex with chachi
• possessed singers
• what’s the name of that pole dance song

Probably this one:

I used to pole dance to this at Star Girls. I’d have them start it up and I’d come flying out front and center, a sparkler in each hand, and launch myself into the air, spinning around that pole like a tether ball on a rope. I had these cool shiny black vinyl formal gloves (with zippers on them) that I used to tantalize the crowd and psychically tease them into forking over one and fives.

Sneef, this song always brings back mammary memories…

The only thing to do in Wheat on a Friday night is get drunk at one of the 37 bars in town or head down to the Wheat Municipal Building to join in the Friday Night Bingo Game. Haiku Sue talked me into going. She called it “cheap fun,” and said if I sat next to her, she would share her Bingo bootee with me, which consisted of buckets of magnetic chips, Day-Glo ink daubers, wax pencils, chip wands and even a menagerie of small plastic animals and such as that Haiku Sue referred to as her good luck charms:

“When you lay all these
Out in a row like this here
Your odds are better.”

Whatever. Technically, I can’t even afford to go play Bingo, but when I was over at the Bag Of Bargains supermarket (”We’re Your Double Coupon Connection!”), some old lady thought I was working there and shoved her shopping cart at me while I was trying to walk in to the joint. I figured Jesus would have helped her load her bags into her Pinto, so I did the same. Praise be! All that Christian goodness paid off, and the lady gave me a dollar tip! I promptly fed my dollar into a scratch off ticket lottery machine inside the store and ended up with a $9 winner on a Lucky Slug Tripler ticket. Yes, my people… I won $3 and it was tripled.

I won!

I took my loot with me to the Bingo game and bought some cards and specials. Actually Haiku Sue had to loan me a few bucks so I could get the minimum buy-in, but she’s cool like that. I sat down next to her and she gave me a funny look and said:

“You can’t sit there, dear.
Come sit next to me, okay?
I’ll show you some tips.”

She didn’t show me dick. I ended up in the seat next to her staring into the prune-like mug of a guy who was easily over 100. His glasses were so thick, I’m surprised the heat from the overhead lights didn’t shine through the lenses and burn a hole in his cards. I soon found out why Haiku Sue wanted the seat across from her left empty…. Duke showed up, dressed for sex in a size Small tank top (his muscles were hanging all out) and a pair of baggy pants that couldn’t hide his excitement… for the game, that is.

I tried to keep up, but they play rapid-fire Bingo, where they yell out one number after another, and everyone descends on their damn cards like a pack of locusts. I was sitting there freaking out, yelling “Wait! Wait!” I got so flustered that I knocked my bucket of chips on the floor, and then dropped a dauber in my lap. Of course it left a big bright purple dot on my pants.

The horror of the night came when I felt a leg slowly graze my bare calf. And then move higher. It was stroking me like a praying mantis or something, and I felt myself flush, realizing that Haiku Sue’s married lover was coming on to me with her right in front of it all. What a cad!

I tried to bend and twist my lower body, but Duke’s flexible limbs found my legs no matter where I put them. He really wanted me! I silently threatened him a couple of times with a big dauber, but he was too busy sticking chips on his numbers to pay me any mind.

As we were leaving, I ratted him out to Haiku Sue, so she would know what a real and true dog she is running around with. And do you know what she said?

“Oh Ramona, girl!
Couldn’t have been Duke because
his legs were on me.”

Damn! That old coot with the Coke bottle glasses must have been horny!

BINGO: The New Passion Pit.

Ramona sez:

Check out the Cher pic here.  It’s scary!  LOL

Oh dear Jesus, earlier today I suffered a tragedy.  I’ve been hanging out at the Wheat Library this week and trying to con Haiku Sue into hiring me part time to stick books back on the shelf and say “hay” to folks and stuff.  Anyhow, there was this hot guy lurking around this morning (in the sex books section) and he was checking me out.  After about 3 minutes of flirting with me between the open stacks (my head fit quite nicely through the opening), he came around to my side and started dry humping one of those wooden book carts with the wheels on ‘em.  Books were flying all over and I was giddy as hell, and then he snapped his fingers and said, “Hey man, come with me and I can make you fly!”  Needless to say, we were out the door like a pair of skeeters chasing after the bloodmobile.

I jumped onto the back of his moped and wrapped one arm around his strapping body, and the other held onto my wig (I didn’t lose it yet!).  He tore out of there at 7mph and we ended up in some big field (of which there are a lot in Wheat, Minnesota).  I thought we were going to make hot passionate love right there in the thicket, when he led me over to one hell of a strange-looking contraption.  He called it a “DoodleBug,” and frankly it looked like a cheap lawn chair with no legs and a giant fan on the back.

My stud strapped me in to the thing and I was waiting for something kinky to happen.  Instead, he started the motor and the blades on that giant fan started to spin.  Before I knew what was happening, he starts screaming: “Run, babe!”  I thought there was a snake or a big bug or something, so I - of course - took off on a mad dash.  After about three steps, I was jerked upright like a toddler being swooped up… and then I was airborne.

I was hollering at the guy on the ground.  “I need a damn helmet!  I’m going to crash and burn!  How do I land this damn thing?”  I was about five feet off the ground and being sucked higher by the second, so the Styrofoam helmet he tried to toss at me hit me in the feet.  I was hanging on for such dear life that I couldn’t make sure my beautiful electric purple wig was on tight, so - of course - I felt it torn off my head and sucked into the giant fan.  The last I saw of it, it was being blown out into the sky and fluttering around like a bright purple bird (with a lot of long hair).  I can’t believe I lost it.  It was my one and only true belonging.

Oh, in case you were wondering, I floated around on that damn DoodleBug til the motor started to sputter, and by then I was directly over Wheat.  I prayed my ass off some more and held on tight as the rainbow colored parachute above my head brought me down nice and easy… right onto the big sign in front of the gas station.  I knocked a couple of the big black numbers off the front of it, so for about three minutes there was a riot at the pumps, since folks thought the gas station was selling six cent gas.  Whoops!

Somehow I managed to get unstrapped from the chair and played dumb when the town cops showed up.  When they asked me if I’d seen anything, I said I thought I saw a “suspicious character” steal a very valuable electric purple wig off a helpless old woman’s head, and that she would surely appreciate it if they would hunt it down and make it available for pickup at the station.  The cop just looked at me funny.  Oh well.

Art Object Rendering of me,
holding on for dear life…