New York City 1948


6:49 p.m.-2002-02-09

a word from our sponsor

I had a dream last night where me and one of the performers from my theater were on a commercial shoot as the two principal actors. Never really deduced what the product was that we were hawking. We were decked out in matching leather and latex sado masochistic style lederhosen. Rubbing ourselves down with conditioning oils, enormous prop fan rippling the cream satin backdrop and tossing my hair around but not my partner's since he's closely shaven, while we both say our lines in unison. Gotta stop thinking about shit I want moments before I fall asleep. Cause I do want an ad campaign to make the mad cash, but I was debating with myself how far I would go in selling out.

I wouldn't front breast stuffin and fat vacuuming plastic surgeons or any baby seal pelt operation. I would promote canned pig's brains in milk or anti bacterial vaginal yeast infection creams. Deep breakfast cereal bowl full of oinker brains, a drop of milk plops from the spoon as I cherishingly bring the innard delight to my lips. Mmmm mmm mmmmm, don't forget to start your day off right with the nutritional down home treat of Grandpa Skeeter's pig brains in milk. Or my face sticking out of a full bodied paramecium type suit, break dancing in a forest of giant spindly black hairs. Ahahahahahah, its me! Yeastie McFection, and I'm here to terrorize and smellify your nether regions. You'll never date again little girl, ahhhhahahahahah! Oh no! Its Gynostat, the two day infection treatment. Curses, foiled again!

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