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BJ and the Bear

Issue Date: Thursday, May. 05, 2005

As I was standing at the bus stop this morning waiting for the blueline, this monstrous bear approached me and started hovering around. He shuffled his furry feet closer and closer, sniffing the air. Finally he stood over me and mumbled, “HoneyHoneyHoneyHoney[sniiiiffffff]Honey.”

I put my hand on his massive chest to stop his advance and said to him (quite sternly, I might add), “Sir? If you are handing out terms of endearment I prefer ‘love’, ‘sweetie’ and the ever elusive ‘peanut’… but ‘honey’ will just not do. I am no Jessica Alba.”

He regained his composure but then continued, “Ma’am I must beg for your forgiveness for my abhorrent behavior, but I am being driven completely feral by the sweet and succulent siren’s song scent of your beautiful tresses.” He gestured to my hair with a large paw. And then added, “May I lick it?”

Of course I didn’t let him lick my hair, kind readers. He would have mussed the luscious smell I newly acquired from a sample of honey shampoo and conditioner I received at The Body Shop. [And angels started singing.] While I was there getting my favorite… (swoon)… the shea body butter… because, yes… now that you mention it… yes, YES! I am a hot house orchid and my skin does need to be dewy and soft as rose petals… luscious even.

Where was I?

Oh yes, apologizing to you about the misrepresentation of the title of this journal entry.


Because number one, this entry has not one little thing to do with blow jobs (were that it did kind reader, were that it did…). And B, I have no idea what the hell “BJ and the Bear” is… I think I got it all mixed up in my mind with The Bad News Bears. And three… why in tarnation did I have Kenny Rogers wrapped up in my version of having something to do with that movie? I was nothing but a wee babe in ’76.

Ah… and as you all know (and my conscience pointed out to me that I must confess) I lied. LIED like a rug, or a dog or some really expensive linoleum. Because, I don’t take the bus. I drive an anal Mystique.

Good Lord, I need to lay off the crack pipe before 8 am.

Last little noteworthy piece of info before we adjourn our meeting of the crazy… My birthday is Wednesday. And if you are asking yourself. “Self? Would Suzanna Danna love something for her birthday? A card? A bucket of money? Maybe a nice vat of body butter?” Then the answer is wholeheartedly YES!

By the way, you ladies look really pretty today, those pants? Very slimming.
You mens? Smokin.


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

The Graphic Below Courtesy of Papernapkin.

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