That title may make you think this is a tribute for Whitney Houston, or an ode to our long extinct friend, Bubonic Plague (Not the disease, just a drag queen we knew back in our party days), but alas, it’s just us talking about ourselves again. Some of you may have noticed that we haven’t been posting as much since Christmas time. As they tend to do, things got pretty crazy around the holidays and we left our dear little blog alone and afraid, just like Madonna does to Lourdes at Christmas when she decides to go hang out with her newer, cooler, more worldy adopted children. The doldrums of January passed and still little Lourdes she sat unattended. Neglected. With nothing but some cans of Starkist Tuna, an old half-empty bottle of Perrier and Madonna’s Immaculate Collection album. But then February came rolling around, and the weather started to warm up, and as the weather warmed up so did our cold, empty hearts. The skies suddenly turned blue! The birds began to sing! Frank Sinatra played as the squirrels joyfully humped each other in the trees. I heard David Banda and Mercy James yodeling a mesmerizing Malawian chant in the distance. Spring had sprung and soon enough, the lure of little Lourdes and the world-wide-web came a’ callin’. And just so you know, when Lourdes comes a’ callin’ she makes a sound like a wild chimp, throws her feces at you, vogues at you, and then calls you a whore. So out of love (and fear of Lourdes) we felt compelled to answer the call, and here we are. Making our best attempt to get back on the blogging train. But it seems only fair that we explain what’s been keeping us from our blogging duties, right? So just like the old dog-diarrhea’d-in-my-mouth excuse we’ve all used at work a time or two, we’ve got some excuses of our own for why we’ve been absent. And once you hear them, you may think twice about handing us that pink slip.
We had to take some time off to heal after the incident at the strip club. Let’s just say that you should think twice before getting a two-for-one anal bleaching in a bathroom stall from a girl named Lexus. Leave it to the professionals.
We were busy penning a revolutionary Lifetime Movie script called “Rebekah and Johnny Kill Rebekah’s Parents But Get Caught in The End.”
We wrote a follow up song to Looking Glass’s “Brandy”. Basically Brandy gets caught up in some hardcore drugs and sells her necklace to buy some crack and is eventually found decapitated, floating in the harbor, the tragic victim of a heroin-addicted bar patron. The lesson? Being a sailor groupie will get yo’ ass killed.
We traveled the country auditioning at all of the American Idol stops. We sang well, but we lost JLo every time we got to the part where Brandy gets decapitated.
We went on a scuba diving expedition to study sea turtles in the Galapagos Islands. And by Galapagos Islands, we mean the kiddie pool at the local Red Roof Inn.
We’ve been upset because we got kicked out of our apartment. And by apartment we mean room 201 at the local Red Roof Inn. Guess they didn’t like the baby turtles nests we set up in the kiddie pool, or that we woke up all of the hotel guests as we stood there naked and sang “Circle of Life” at the top of our lungs as the turtle eggs hatched.
We’ve been in an audition war with Lindsay Lohan for the role of Elizabeth Taylor. I guess bathing myself in White Diamonds perfume and yelling out “Gladiator!!!” wasn’t enough to get me the role.
We were working on our off-off-off-off Broadway play, “She’s All That: The Musical!” Okay that was a joke but that would actually be an amazing play. Great idea, you! (pats self on back).
We’ve been preparing for the second coming, and our prayers were answered. We sing joy on the highest to thee Blue Ivy, and praise thy name. For she is Lord.
We’ve been working on setting up our non-profit organization, Jewel The Children. We go to third world countries and adorn sick children with gorgeous jewelry. How can you feel bad when you look FABULOUS?
We’ve been training for the 2012 Olympic US Table Tennis Team. And let’s just say Shake and Bake are about to take you Asians down this year. I repeat. You. Are. Going. Down.
We’ve been combing the country searching for the actual “Desperado” and “Witchy Woman” from the Eagles songs, but all we found was a one-legged drunk cowboy named Hal, and a homeless/toothless fortune teller named Annette. And by the way Annette, your prediction about the bad anal bleaching was right on the money.
We wanted to make more money so we’ve been taking that course on VCR Repair that Sally Struthers told us about, and boy has it come in handy! Now I can record my soaps while I’m at work! DVR, SchmeeVeeArrr.
We were running an in-depth sociology experiment on the lyrics of “Just a Gigilo” and the words “Bop bozadee bozadee bop zitty bop hummala bebhuhla zeebuhla boobuhla hummala bebhuhla zeebuhla bop” roughly translate to “I poot stanky David Lee Roth farts.”
Due to tough economic circumstances, we got a 2nd job at the local O’Charley’s as the salad-hair-checker/free-refill-cutoff-bitch/ambassador of smiles.
We’ve been writing a steady stream of love/hate mail to one ebony prince, Mr. Bobby Brown c/o New Edition. ”Dear Bobs: Why’d you gotta do that to my Nippy? Why you gotta be so handsome yet so dangerous? Call me. I think we have something in common. Hint: Sex Appeal.”
We’ve spent months secretly changing the $9.99 tags at TJ Maxx to $10.00 tags, thereby showing “The Man” that we mean business. Occupy THIS (points at butthole) evil corporations!
We’ve been working with America’s top choreographers on our talent portion for the Miss South Carolina pageant. And to the rest of the competition (I’m looking at you Miss Myrtle Beach), it’s on like a dirty thong, yall.
It took us 3 excruciating months of scrubbing, waxing, organic chemical peels, lamb’s milk baths (from a lamb sacrificed on a golden altar), leg wraps filled with Maddox’s tears and endangered panda placenta rubs to get Angelina Jolie’s leg ready for the Oscars. And our handiwork paid off. Peek-a-boo. I see you sexy Angelina leg.
♥ The Bourbon Girls