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wtfcraigslistnyc · 9 months

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G.HURDER Y ESTEBAN “GIFTED” Gregorio BOOMHAUSER all the go quick after the drunken wedding fun had come to a close… hammered sitting on my sofa GREGORIO and myself reflected quietly on the evenings doings… while contemplating the arduous labor that awaited upon the COCKS CALL AT DAWN… so we did what YOU FELLAS would have undoubtedly done had you been standing in our sneakers perspectively.. we agree’d that we simply COULDN’T BARE THE THOUGHT of our snippy significant others finding say joy supplies and riding dirty on our GOOD TIMES… so naturally we consumed it all and wished each other a good eve and morrow in but a few short hours… My memory is foggy as I’ve bashed my CPU into CONCRETE one too many times perhaps… but I recall this being my final DO SE DO around the B’n’G sawing my bandana and reminding them AGAIN that I WOULD NOT BRING THEM THE FOOD THEY WAITED OVER AN HOUR FOR DRESSED UP IN DRAG…. My utter distain for the the over-top and just SPECIAL BEHAVIOR of our beloved benefactor and leader CLIFFORD had reached a many years King fever pitch. I’d taken years of punishment and the delicious duo of sleep deprivation and chemical stimulation had turned up to do the damn thing that day…

CHANGE IT!!! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!! WTF ARE YOU THINKING YOU DUMB BITCH?!?! NO!!! THEY CANNOT HAVE DAIRY FREE GRAVY THATS MADE SOLELY OF HEAVY CREAM AND CHEESE…

All things I heard repeatedly… But on this morning my houndstooth was foaming at the mouth… my tolerance for the PRI-MADONNA antics and flippant disregard basic modicum of decency shown to every human being be they prince or pauper… The music would suddenly grind to a halt and KREMER would belt out that it was some person’s bday and the whole NIGHTMARISH RITUAL resumed… Yet another revolution round the blazing ROKKO as the old ladies hoot and holler.

Clapping and screaming in terror as GREGORIO battles the urge to projectile vomit thick chunks of EVERYTHING BAGEL, ESPRESSO, BEER, COCAINE SNOT and his SELF RESPECT on the TITS on some 17 year old he’s pined over like a man on death row eagerly rubbing together the paws awaiting that bowl of ice cream they give you just before they slap the wet rag and 10,000 VOLT shower cap to your CRANIUM and set loose the JUICE till you SHIT and PISS YOURSELF TO DEATH…

GREGORIO would lift his tired unwashed skirt and approach his victim like a flasher picks the mark they will egregiously exposure themselves to. This charge forward paired with him exposing his even more unwashed HORSE COCK SOCK that he made stupid HORSEY noises as the room clapped along in utter hysteria… The victim would pretend not be excited as GREGORIO ground his unwashed manhood in a manner more TITTY BAR than brunch destination… as he completed his MAGUM OPUS of public humiliation and VILE SEXUAL ABUSE in a SHOWGIRLS like context the applause would thunder and AQUA or some other deplorable BULLSHIT would bellow back over the greasy speakers…

Often he would withdraw from the ritual having left a wee snail trail of PRE-CUM on his victim/birthday person’s blouse, trousers or fleshy thigh….

Such was life for almost a decade… I wouldn’t let the TOXIC VIBES get me down.. oh no… not for me… I would always take the high road and simply excuse myself to the front and grab any old coffee mug that fit in my palm and slip right through the packed dining room to calmly step into the parking lot. I’d take out my DUG OUT and rip and angry blast of the REEFERINO strait to my nut, holding my breathe and hurling the ceramic mug at the red brick shattering it into a million pieces. As the glass cascaded into the alley I’d blow out my hit and set strait back into the kitchen stinking like 80’s COMMERCIAL with NANCY REGEAN narrating a montage of a my life in a HOW NOT TO CONTEXT INSTRUCTIONAL video. Highlighting key moments in my life where I made and did ridiculous and terrible things that would ultimately lead me to living in a blood red attic apartment, dating a lady 9 years younger than me, an abject failure of a man pretending to be a professional artist, completely delusional and letting life rip by while licking imaginary wounds… NANCY would be especially scathing as the mug exploded and I exhaled the DEVIL WEED and returning to the work place where I posed a very immediate threat to myself and others… CLIFF was screaming about food being reading where the FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!… i grunted and took the plates with piping hot RUEBENS on them. They are like two monsters that smell like McDONALDS fart breath in my hands… the poor choices that lead to this moment gurgled in my guts. The weed, drugs, exhaustion and RONETTE’ MCDONALD QUEEF in my PAWS was more weight then I could bear… I could feel body preparing to show just how pissed off it was with me…

I charged out of the kitchen so as to avoid blowing chunks all over the food and creating a scene. I was desperate to find ANYONE to take these GODDAM RUEBEN’s out of my hands before my stomach garnished them in sick…

I came upon LUCAS first.. Good old agreeable, hard working and reliable power bottom extraordinare’… Rather open my mouth and barf on him as I feared… I used nonverbal means to hand off the RUEBENS and run out the back door. I kicked him in the shin as hard as I could without warning and jammed both plates in his hands as he belted out a scream of pain… I screamed out a battle cry and charged out the door, falling to my knees on the asphalt wrenching and blasting juices from my nostrils and mouth profusely… Through the TEAR & PUKE I could see a family cautiously inching past me in the parking lot… surely any establishment who’s employees are barfing in the back lot is a top notch spot well worth waiting over an hour for the table….

The rest of the blur was spent in excruciating pain. BLUNTING telling my dear friend and mentor to:

FUCK OFF AND DIE, EAT SHIT YOU MISERABLE CUNT, YOU CHANGE IT MOTHERFUCKER!!!

The crescendo and final note of this symphony or pain was struck when carried the final RWK plate to the deuce out side, gently settling them down before the final hungry guest of the day… then I sneezed and mocked the giant oversized neon coffee mug directly into both plates of CLIFFORD’s legendary CHEESY STRADA HEART ATTACK HELPER… the guests looked terrified I let out a WOOKIE roar of FUUUUUUUUCK!!!! NOOOOOOO and grabbed both soaked plates. Hurled the JAVA SOAKED contents into the bushes and casting both cheap plastic plates like frisbees into the parking lot… I’LL BE BACK… My time with CLIFFORD and the MOTLEY CRUE we called a family at the BUMP AND GRIND had come to a close.

(9.23.23)

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