So I realize as I have been neglectful here, so have I been neglected... 38 followers? What, no one has time for more than a sound byte these days?! As well, consider if you are actually reading this blog, you are among the 38 most loyal, most refined.... I dare say I bet you call me a friend! So friends gather 'round, because I'm about to take you on the reading journey of your life.....
It all started, I believe, on a Valentine's day in 1973. Fourty weeks is about right... I was an induced labor, so maybe not so auspicious and romantic a beginning.... or maybe so. Who knows.
My mother, ripe crazy bitch that she is (evry sexy woman is a little crazy, otherwise they wouldn't sleep with you ;) Just when you find out they're *really* crazy? For god sake don't marry it!!! (Hi, John, thanks for stopping in ;)
So my cat is blind, and so am I (nearly.... no seriously, they have to reinforce the little lenses in the "glasses" I get because...... effing blind!
So here's the thing.... todays problems are the jokes of tomorrow, out pain should be spoken, it should be shouted as loud as you can, grab people by the throat and say, now Ducky, you will pay attention to ME!!!!
I knew a man once with a secret. And dead men tell no tales. His name was Jeff of House of Gord, and I did some ehh..... let's call it "modeling" back in the day. If you want to know me at my sexual "peak" (because everyone knows women get more skilled with age... and more forgiving of foibles too, boys, that's why you love older women, lol!)
Anyway.... so I was doing this modeling gig because I was young, dying, broke and had no SSDI yet.... no nothing. So what are a few dirty pictures? It's the new millenium, right?
Well....yeah...anyway. My stage name was the old formula: your first pet's first name (Sugar) and your middle name (Wilson). My real first name, Pamela, means the honey elf, sweetness, or other such deritivatives. So it was fitting.
Wilson is an old family name for my great-great-aunt (all the best relatives are your parent's siblings because they know how nutty your parents were/are, so they have ALL the dirt, and know you well enough to think you deserve the Really REAL story instead of the carefully crafted lie your parents made in hopes of protecting you (and their wounded egos ;)
So.....rambling, yeah, seem to be good at that.
here's my promise. I will try, every day, as best I can to send out some message somewhere to let you know I'm alive and well. Well, if not well, alive lol.
YOU promise to check in on me for as long as I'm alive, and keep me in your hearts afterwards. Sound like a deal? I will answer any and ALL QUESTIONS on the most sensitive topics EVAR.
you get me an audince, and I will tell stories.... some of them may even be true, lol
cya on da flip side