Saturday, May 14, 2016

Seriously, does My Ass Look Fat in These Pedal Pushers?

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

♫The snail track glows orange on the mountain tonight
Not a penis to be seen
A sexual usurpation
And the king is now the queen.

My gender is howling like this swirling storm inside

My out must now go in, Hell knows I tried!
Oh let them in, let them see
Be the good boygirl you always have to be
Don't Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know
Well, now they know and on with the show

Let it go... uh! uh! uh!
let it go... uh! uh! uh!
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Stick my dick in the jamb and slam the door!

I don't care
What they're going to say
Sane people will rage on,
But sanity never bothered me anyway!

It's funny how an elephant
Makes all my junk seem small
And the reasonable mind that once controlled me
Can't get to me at all!

It's time to see what I can do
In a toilet stall that's built for two
No right, no wrong, no rules for me. I'm deranged

Let it go, Cut it off
I turn my butt to the wind and sky
Let it go, Cut it off
I'm pretty when I cry!

Here I stand and simper
And here I'll stay
Let the normal people rage on!

My power flurries through the air into the ground
Who wrote this piss poor song?
My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around
These lyrics are shit and juvenile
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast
I'm going to drink Brandy Alexanders until I'm smashed

Let it go, Cut it off
And I'll be open like the break of dawn
Let it go, Cut it off
That perfect girl can now turn her head and cough

Here I writhe
Like Dame Elton John
Let the storm rage on,
Decorum never bothered me anyway!♫

We thought we would take that song, “Frozen” which reads like a Short Bus 12 year old wrote it and alter it in honor of this.

In the film, “The Player”, one of the characters is talking on his cellphone while driving down Sunset BLVD (at least I think that was the street) and he says to the Tim Robbins character, “I'm on my way to an AA meeting.” Robbins' character says, “I didn't realize you were an alcoholic.” He replies, “I'm not but that's where all the deals are being made these days.” I might be paraphrasing but it is close enough for rock and roll.

This serves by way of an introduction to a great idea I just had. I was thinking, “Why don't I come out as gay?” I don't actually have to be gay. All I have to do is say I am. While I am at it, I thought I would announce that I just found out that I was Jewish, on my great, great, great, great, not so great grandmother's side. As a newly minted gay, Jewish man I could possibly be in line for something like this.

I'm getting to that stage where I might not be around 25 years from now and I really feel I deserve at least some small expression of material success and this is the way to get it done. I am also about to discover that I am black on my great, great, great, not so great grandfather's side. As a black, gay Jewish man I cannot imagine that anything would be denied me on the material plane.

I have already started acting out, as a prelude to coming out, in front of my friends here ...and they think I have the camp thing down; if their laughter is any indication. Of course, we are in the preliminary stages. I'm looking down the road, past the initial whirlwind of being hounded by paparazzi and nailed by eager suitors, in the stalls of some public men's room. I probably wouldn't be in places like that but ambiance has always been important to me and you can't get better ambiance these days than in an inner city park, men's bathroom, since most of the states have opted for the black light atmosphere, with piped in disco music. Like I said, I'm looking ahead because transgender is where the really heavy success action is going down (pun intended). Does my ass look fat in these jeans?

Well, the real reason that I think going transgender might work for me is that I've always wanted to be a lesbian but I have to be a chick to “getter done.” See... there's nothing wrong with being a man who used to (really really) like women, turning into a woman who really really likes women. Nothing has changed except for concerns about getting it up ...and boy! That's a load off my mind.

So... I was thinking, how about, instead of Les Visible, why not Bergstein Steinberg and you can call me Berggie, or Ms Berggie, puleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze?” I can't wait for someone to say, “You go girl!” How fun would that be? I'm thinking about relocating to Santa Monica and opening an antique shop and that works really well, considering what an antique I am. The idea is that I run into Caitlyn, in my Subaru. Apparently lesbians really like Subarus. 'I'm not the walrus. I'm not the egg man, I'm the egg lady!”

Of course, since I am also Jewish, I need to go to Israel and it is there that I intend to meet my next love interest. I mean, just the way this article is written by a compassionate Tribester... and the one before it was written by a Muslim, truly moves me. Get out of here! Really? Yeah... really; some guy named Abdullah Pork Salami ...and all those prohibitions about pork go right out the window because if you are gay then pork is kosher. Does my ass look fat in these jeans?

The next step is to head down to the transgender karaoke bar, where I begin to seriously belt out show tunes and since I'm black also, I thought I would make Porgy and Bess my go to Broadway signature prance. Then I become the spokeschick for Black-Jewish Transgender Lives Matter and as a lipstick lesbian, I think Shachar is going to be digging my groove when pretend boy meets pretend girl and it won't be long before Caitlyn shows up and we have this weird sex triangle and boom! Like it had eyes, I get my own reality TV show.

I would probably be the lipstick lesbian because I am svelte and rapier thin, so Shachar would probably be the shaven headed, leather jacket wearing end of the equation.

Oh Gaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwd I just want to feel safe, while I am transitioning from a man to a Duck Billed Platypus. SAFE! Like a human condom.This is a major league steaming pile of Hippopotamus shit. Scrutinize the language. It's like dead cockroaches organized into some kind of hieroglyphics for the thinking impaired. 

I deserve at least a little success and I am willing to put your money where my mouth is. Is he talking about the 'money shot'? I'm thinking I can give a whole new meaning to 'shooting gallery' and I really do want to find out if you can get four queens on a bar stool by simply turning it upside down.

"Shachar," which means Dawn in Hebrew; Shachar said he did not want to garner undue attention while serving.” Serving? ♫Dawn go away I'm no good for you.♫ See, getting extra attention is not what I am after either. That's why I'm going to do everything in the media, so I can keep a low profile.

99% of women say they don't like men who wear leather pants, which works out perfectly, since 100% of men who wear leather pants don't like women. Why is it so hard for women to find men that are sensitive, caring, and good-looking? Because those men already have boyfriends. I really want to be able to walk down the street before I get gender altered and see a beautiful woman and turn to my date of the moment and say, “"It's women like her that sometimes make me wish I was a lesbian...” Then, in this Shake 'n Bake world, presto! I am.

I'll be having dinner at Barry Diller's. I'll be in the recording studio night and day. I'll have a column at Time Magazine. I'll be the new It It ...something... something. It's all so confusing, I'm getting all flushed with my new sensitivity. It's like I really care that I care that I don't care. ♫I want to be me!!!!!!!! I want to be me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!♫ I see things like this and then I see things like this and yet again I see things like this. All of them are 6 years old so that would make them like 666. Right? How can anyone say that a six year old is not mature enough to know what they want?

I deserve success, just a smidgen and I have finally found the way to get some. I also want ten million dollars. I don't think that is asking a lot. The government can give it to me without a care in the world and I can build the barn home of my dreams and all of you can come and visit and we'll have quiche or something and I can go on The View and Ellen Degenerates and Montel's and golly Cheese Wiz, I can spread out on a Ritz cracker and beg the world, the whole world, to do me back and forth and with some ropes and pulleys, or pullets even.

Sure I've been strange all my life and am about to get stranger still ...but if this is what it takes for me to get a leg up (heh heh), then this is what it takes. I realize now that I never gave it all my all. I wasn't willing to risk everything so that I could sit poolside and dream. I had all these stupid inhibitions about integrity and honor and where has that gotten me? I'm in Nowhere Land but I'm not going to be Nowhere Man. I'm going to be Nowhere Girl.

Please, dear reader, do not judge me too harshly. I've had a difficult life and before I punch that cosmic time clock on my way out, I want to taste the good life, at least just for a little while. Sure... sex might be a little awkward at first because I don't know how to do the things I am going to be doing but it has to be a little like riding a bike. Meanwhile, I don't want to be buried in Mozart's grave. I want to live a little. Who can blame me? I'm tired of bucking the trend. I want my place at the trough. I want to root in the darkness before I stumble into the light. I want to sleep all day and stay up all night.

Please show me a little compassion. I tried so hard but it has all been in vain. I deserve to have Bobby Vinton's hair and sing some harmony on ♫YMCA♫. I want to be Mrs. Claus and ring that Salvation Army bell ...on Christmas Day. I want to be in the middle of the mosh pit with all those anonymous bodies. I want it to be in total darkness where everything is done in Braille. I want to carry starlight home in a bottomless pail. I want to whimper when it feels good and I want to wail. I want to howl at the moon and shriek like a loon. I want to go on forever and not come too soon. I want to know what the function is for all those mysterious unguents and flexible toys. I want to giggle with the girls and ponce about with the boys. I want to be wanted and dance until dawn... hopefully with Dawn. I want to paint your toenails and then mow your lawn. I want to be the pool boy in a steamy summer flick... uh oh... I can feel it coming cause what rhymes with flick? I think I'll just back up now. Damn... that sounds innuendo laden too. I want to do it with me before I do it with you.

Dear Reader; I apologize for coming out like this. I know this is scant warning and some of you might have an investment in what I used to be but I really do need some name recognition and money. It's just for a little while. I'll have some kind of epiphany on the further side and it will all be alright again. I am especially sorry if I seem insensitive, especially because I feel like crying all the time, ever since those estrogen infusions. How can I be so sensitive and insensitive at the same time? I realize that one can't go back after having turned in this direction but... so it is. I will try to be a good transgender and maybe you will even like me further down the road. It will surely be difficult at points as I try to adjust. I hope you can eventually adjust and we might just meet at the Adjustment Bureau one of these days. Seriously though... does my ass look fat in these jeans?


End Transmission......

The last two radio shows are available for DOWNLOAD.



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