The Violet Top Shell's Evil Passion

Remember our easily offended little friend, Miss Featherstone-haugh?

If testicles and dead skunks bother you, then you'd probably better leave now. And Stainless Steel Amazon? Just skip this one, 'k? Honestly.
And my darlings, THESE PICTURES ARE NOT THE PEOPLE UNDER DISCUSSION. They are simply the closest thing i could find on the Net. The stories are all true, however.
And so, with a hearty 'Heigh Ho, Animal Faces!" we're off.

My history of significant relationships has not been a real happy one, although a few stand out as memorable to be sure. This is why, when I finally found someone worth a damn I burrowed under his skin and attached myself parasitically to his vital organs in such a way that surgical removal would almost certainly be fatal. True love...it's beautiful.
Beautiful like an episode from the origional Star Trek. (The one with those gross looking flying puke things? when they go down on this planet and everythings all deserted? and one flies down and lands on Spocks back? Yeah. Sweet.)




Awwww...my first boyfriend. Lasted three days.
This poor bastard wanted nothing to do with me, really, but he did kiss me in front of the entire student body in Jr. High. That's how I found out that nearly everyone thought I was gay. I had kids I didn't even know coming up to me saying "Way to go! I thought you were a lez!"
This is also when I found out that everyone thought I was Jewish; apparently this conclusion was based on the evidence of a knitted cap with a pompom on it that I used to wear sometimes. Real conversation:
dork: "Way to go, I thought you were a Lez!"
Me: " You thought I was a what?"
girl named Terry who happened to be standing nearby: "Oh fuck no man, she's not a Lez. She's Jewish."
Laides and gentlemen, I give you the American public school system c.1972.


I lost my virtue to this guy.
I mean, not really, none of these pictures are really the person; I don't keep things like that. When I make a mistake I tend to recall it pretty vividly without visual aids. Anyway, close enough. You know, it was the 70's, ok? To his credit, he was a pretty nice guy and really a very talented musician. Once the initial couple of weeks of marathon sex was over with, though, I discovered that he was as dumb as a goddamn rock. So between that and my parents calling his parents and threatening to put him in jail for statuatory rape the relationship was pretty much doomed.

Next there was this guy. I may have mentioned him in passing...

Another musician. Nice enough at first, and quite intelligent as well. Played chess, even. He had what can only be described as an almost freakishly large Beef Bazooka that, when fully deployed, pointed ESE while he was headed S. He was also the most profoundly depressed person I have even met who wasn't institutionalized.
Of course I moved him right in.
That lasted right up until I get utterly sick and tired of him wandering around unemployed and getting mugged by bums because he was stoned absolutely all the fucking time on whatever came to hand. Getting beat up, threatened with a corkscrew and cheated on was no picnic either.

Now this guy was a sweetheart, really.

Crazy as a fricken loon, but a really sweet guy. Ignore the dead animal. He was convinced he had powers of telekinesis and had been handed the reins of the universe by God during an LSD trip in Guam. By this time I was fairly guarded with my feelings so I just jumped him for wild nutty person sex whenever the opportunity presented itself. I highly recommend it, and him too. When I moved I just forgot to pack him.


Ah, the pick of the litter. A single story should suffice here.

This one wanted to go to a church Halloween costume party with a 'killer' outfit. His idea of a 'killer' outfit?
Cutter the Wolfrider from fucking lameass fucking ElfQuest. Used to call me 'Leetah'.
Never mind.
We did his hair up elfie style and bought little rubber pointed earsies and matched the skin tone with some of my concealer and he had a little vest that laced up the front and leggins and a little loincloth and armbands and guess what? He won the costume contest! Yay!
Being it was a church party, I went as a dominatrix.
No, I'm sorry. This is true. It's all true.

And just because I'm feeling saucy...
One of my darlings is making a major move! That was a decision that took a lot of courage. Hooray!
Lesson to all Brit guys: You blew it, doofuses. You simply have to be more direct. Take a lesson from Dougal here. A casual, breezy approach is best.



And that is why Ms. GreatSheElephant, the queen of Switzerland, is moving to Scotland.