Tiaras aren't just for baby beauty queens and homos anymore

I had such a vivid dream the other night. Eternal beauty and Florida's Department of Makeup Security czar Katherine Harris and I were at Bed, Bath, and Beyond looking at blenders. I wanted the Oester model with 8 speeds and a real desire to blend things in a timely, convenient manner. She wanted the new Cuisinart, the Kawasaki Ninja of blenders if you ask me. Sure it looks slick and tears through beets like they're made of paper, but there is no Art to it, just Cuisin. We leave the store and as we are walking into our duplex we're still arguing over which blender! She tells me to hold on a minute and leaves the room. A short while later, just enough for me to find all the things wrong with the picture in my latest Highlights magazine, she comes in wearing a tiara and a full body suit made of black latex. I see what's up, so i put on my latex overalls and we start to argue again. This time it's over the safety word. I want it to be Huggable, she wants Wrinkle-Free. after a few heated words and more than one threat to put the ass paddle away for good, we finally agree on Jeb. She starts beating me, and as my mind drifts off to BlissTown, about two and half miles away from FunkyTown, i realize how silly all of the bickering was. Moral? Compromise is the key to a healthy, lasting relationship.

Since this is my first post, I'm deciding between a few trademark signoffs.

1) The lotion is in the basket, bitch!
2) Bob Novak says peace out.
3) Stay alive, no matter what. I will find you!

I'm open to suggestions.