Ooh The Internet is giving me recommendations.
*runs around in circles clapping hands* 
Taking Internet suggestions is always a great idea because The Internet is such a good influence with great values and morals and doesn’t really discriminate against anyone, even if it has a name that rhymes with smoatse. Which, if you don’t know who that is, do not ever try to figure it out and google it.
PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF YOUR EYEBALLS!!!!
Stay here and forget that I even typed that in.
I’m now afraid that the thing I typed up there is going to come and try to steal more of my innocence which apparently The Internet doesn’t think even exists anymore.
(you know how when you get afraid of something it happens or how when you say Beetlejuice three times he shows up? Like that but WAY worse!)

Let’s stroll through some of the suggestions The Internet believes I am looking for, like a  lost puppy needing a home, all alone on the world wide web…shall we?

EBAY???
(said with complete exasperation)

*dramatic head roll while rolling eyes way back in head*

Oh EBay, I thought we were going to keep this our little secret…you know I can’t have the world know about this side of me? Some people out there already think I’m a tranny, now you want them to think I’m a tranny hooker…a tranny stripper maybe?
Not nice EBay, not nice at all.

Um…I know I talk a little bit about strippers and such but I’m not sure how these would go over at work, you know the place that isn’t named Shotgun Willies where I go on a daily basis to make money in the form of a paycheck and not dollar bills stuffed into my g string.
 For fucks sake you can’t even see my g string at work.

Usually. 

Amazon, you really need to stop plying me with high school slut dolls, even if they are vampires or zombies.  Amazon, you know  if I wasn’t so against dolls this might be a doll I would buy but I have to tell you that this one is kind of a slap in the face because I am A Vapid Blonde, not A Vampire Blonde and I am not in high school and I was never a slut.
Not for quite sometime now, Amazon.
So if you don’t mind could you get your facts straight?

Not to mention am I crazy or does she look like a stripper too?

I have been contemplating a career change, but  how does the Internet know this?

Oh Zappos, we used to be so close. We used to have such wonderful one night stands but this…this abomination is something I can not get past. Why in the hell would you think these are what I’ve been needing all my life?

Since when did I turn into Alfonso Ribeiro, Zappos?
You’ve seen my closet…you’ve provided me with hours of entertainment and I’m not talking a little soft shoe over here I’m talking some good old hard core shoe porn.

For shame Zappos, even EBAY knows me better.
You’re way more likely to find those tranny heels up there in my closet than these…uh, I don’t even think I can call them shoes they are so fucking awful. 

Oh wait, hold on Zappos I’ll be ready in a moment I just need to put on my Tic Tac Toe’s and my Members Only jacket and I am ready for my big night out at the roller rink where I will “moonlight” skate ALONE!!!

Thanks Zappos, not only have you doomed me to a life stuck in 1982, you’ve cursed me into being a middle aged man going through a mid life crisis, driving a metallic burgundy convertible Sebring wearing my tic tac toes, members only jacket and a pink popped collar polo shirt.

But wait Zappos, there is one piece of this puzzle that is missing.

Don’t you see it?

It’s glaringly absent from my new image.

So much so that there is no way I can pull off my new swarthy slick image with out this piece.

There is no middle aged, tic tac toe, members only wearing, Sebring driving, crisis having man with out one.

The comb over.

It suits me, no?

Now I have to go to my stylist and convince her that cutting my hair into a comb over is a most excellent idea because that will complete the entire ensemble.

I am so excited by this make over that you have given me.

But really, Zappos, you shouldn’t have.

 How can I ever repay you?

You know what’s happening right now? It’s raining. It’s a gray, dreary, rainy day. Which is completely fucking awesome because it is not snowing. That’s right. My spirits are lifted. Like a crack whore with a new rock, I feel happy today. On this day which could be one of the ugliest day’s going. On a day when the snow banks are giving way to being dirt banks and the grass, that is the color of puke or puce or something in between green, brown and yellow, is beginning to peak through. And because I have spoken it out loud I swear if it snows anymore I may just take The Dish up on his idea of abandoning our home and living in a motel in some dry desolate town in the south where the temperature never gets below a 105 in the shade and sipping on tequila straight from the bottle is an acceptable form breakfast.
Or lunch.
Or dinner for that matter.

I’m behind.

The Dish will be back next week with #6 in his series. He’s sent me a ton of things but I need to sift through and find the proper amount of filth and fun to fill up on.
Like a fine wine, some things cannot be rushed.

 Seems I have booze on my mind.

What’s new.

Today is
National Women and Girls HIV/AIDS Awareness Day
A day to Rock The Red Pump.
And since I am all about fancy shoes you can bet your ass I am wearing a pair of the fiercest red shoes I own.

Sure they look a little like a stripper should be wearing them but hey I never claimed to be a feminist. In fact I think it should just be HIV/AIDS Awareness Day and leave the genders out of it.
But who am I to change a nationally designated day.
Most likely that day already exists.

I remember first hearing about HIV/AIDS way back in the mid to late 80′s.
*ahem*
(please note I am 852 years old)
There was some statistical report  that emphatically stated that by the year blah blah something something every one would know someone affected by HIV.
I was like…are you kidding me?
I live in a protected bubble of glitter.
Pfft.
That report was wrong.
I knew someone many, many years earlier than the year they predicted.
Not only was a family member affected buy it, he died from it much sooner than this report suggested.
I have to say if he were here today I guarantee you he would be rockin’ some red pumps that would put my little sissy shoes to shame.
I know it in my heart.
I also know that in his life there was light and laughter and not a regret in the world.

So, rock your red pumps.
Rock ‘em hard!