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A Handicapped Bitch in Recovery!

Monday, June 20, 2005

OK, This time, You decided...

During the last week I had lots of problems with this freaking site... and, ,while I was eating my fingertips trying to fix them, thing I almost did, for the first time since I started blogging I made you, my beloved readers, choose between five diff´rent titles, five diff´rent stories to write about... and, acording to your decition, here it goes my next post.
You wanted some blood uh?, well here it is...(I hope not to dissapoint you)
Hugs!
Ian



It happened last weekend...it´s started as a JOKE I gues, but afterwards everything turned extremely dangerouse..and all our lives were in risk.

While you all were sleeping quietly on your beds, dreaming about candy canes and Disney´s caracters, my email box started to get filled with poisoned arrows, armed troups, elephants and alligators in line ready to attack and strategy battle plans.

WHAT THA HELL? you are asking... I´ll tell you:

Everything started when Ms. Bees Knees and Mrs. Astor (Mr. A.) were negociating who was keeping Mikevil (that hotty blond canadian angel).

Don´t ask me when or how this issue became into a huge bloody competition where lots of people (me included) got stucked in the middle, trying to avoid the injures of that crazy conflict.

One by one those emails arrived to my box, and the whole thing was getting harder and harder: Mr A. adopted an amazing World War language including a lot of Russian Emperors references (that made me run to Google to learn more about history!) and things got even worst when Mme. Bees proclaimed this line: "who will be the next american beauty queen!? [please note: residents not living within the united states are automatically disqualified. sorry mikevil and ian. you lose.]"

So, I was already officially included on this crazyness.. and this was my first accion:

MY DEAR ALEXIS
I must confess, since your last letter I just couldn´t stop thinking about how terrible this war must be to all the innocents that, accidentally, got stucked in the middle of the battle field (my case, mikevil´s and silent knottybabe´s)...

I know there´s no other choice than this bloody combat but, as you may know by now, my commanders are silently taking advantage and are coming up from the south, taking the whole Mexico with their troups, prepared to attack immediately. They are just waiting for my order to take over Florida...
So this is my offer: Madame Bees, not only called me "CHEERLEADER", she also said I was out of contest because of my Argentinian origin... and I can show her how wrong she was (in my name and Mikevil´s) and KICK HER AMERICAN BUTT!
In return, I demand from you, the "NEW BEAUTY QUEEN" title and its recognition in your vast territories, The
Palace and its friends included. Of course this is just the first of several letter interchange...but remember, my troups are ready, they are armed and waiting to my orders, actually they are wondering what side I would take, considering how much I love Madame Bees and how easy is to kill a thousand alligators* in line...

This is not a call for war, just a dialogue between gentlemans request.

your obediant servant.

IAN-IVY

*. Mrs. Astor´s Troups.



After this email (intercepted by Mme. Bees, of course) we received from SF Bay Area, California, Bees´s Reign, a treat offer, including a call for peace:

UH-OH. I'm fucked. Perhaps we can strike some sort of bargain here? Therefore I propose a treaty. And as you all know American treaties are ALWAYS true to thier word. Now where was I? Ah yes. I propose the following:
IAN, I proclaim you American Beauty Queen and with that title you'll also recieve A NEW CAR!!! [complete with leather interior and Knottyboy in the passenger seat.]

alexis, you may have both mikevil and the left half of the hemisphere [Including of course Florida, herefore, you'll also be getting my dear, old, annoying grandmother. Lucky you. I hear she just moved into her new mobile home over there, complete with pony palms and a pre-fab sun porch] under one condition, I GET RAY. Get your satin-gloved hands off that one... he's mine.



afterwards, my answer:


Well... mhhhhhhhh... it seems Madame Bees finally
understood... never, i mean, NEVER say "Ian´s out of contest"

we have a deal, yes...unless Mr.A had a better offer... but, as the clever man he is, I´m sure he will take this PACT as a call for peace, even though the idea of getting mdme. Bees´s granny sounded like a little kick on the
balls.

So Mr A., Im waiting for your response...in the meantime let me tell you something that has been worrying my league commanders since this whole conflict started: the Knottyboy countess silence... no one knows how his actions would be, even now that he has been offered as a trophy of war (that I gently accepted).

In order to continue with this "open dialogue" between the strongest forces of queerland, i remain you.
your NEW AMERICAN BEAUTY QUEEN
IAN-IVY


.ps.Where´s my fucking car?????????????!!!!!!!!!!

.

An then finally: (signed by Mrs.Astor).

Count Ian, your solicitation and aggravation of a
situation already spinning out of control is well-taken. I suggest a bottle of port and cigars before your troops (already estimated to be of only Falkland quality) are committed to trying to gain American citizenship by marrying my sisters.

I suggest that I name you the new Minister of Peace, give you a lovely estate on the ocean, and award you more medals for your service to the world.

Ah, finally the Kissinger of our time! Yes, there is no need for war, but you are right.... The incessant
silence of Knottyboy makes me worry.

The only knowlegeable response is a First Strike. We have to get rid of Knottyboy; he is plotting to take
over Bees' empire now that she has become senile.

And my last strike here...

my dear mr.A.
Now this inminent war is over, and considering that since her last treat announcement, Mme.Bees remained silent, I´m writting you this lines as a confirmation of my ads to peace.

About my trophy of war, The Knottyboy Countess, don´t worry. He won´t be able to take over Mme. Bees empire, he will be very busy working for me as my personal handmaid (sexual slave) so it will be no need to get rid of him.

Everything is under control. my men are aware.... but since somebody offererd them liquor and cigars, they just started to dance in a happy mood, what in musical talking it would be: they turned from Les Misserables to Mama mia! and believe me...thats not a good ad to watch.

I hope this lines found you in good health and mood.
your obediant servant

IAN-IVY
NEW AMERICAN BEAUTY QUEEN



and now,as an epilogue to this email interchange... I´ll leave you with a few lines I got from Mr.A after all this mess...


Ian, because of your Nobel Peace Prize performance, we can all sleep. Knottyboy is obsessed with cereals that will induce teenages to explore their private parts all the more, Bees has been awarded a brand new spirt-hunting job and title, Mikevil isn't causing much more harrn than having Mai Tais with Derwood, or whatever his boyfriend is named, Ray is probably translating Anna Karenina into Farsi, and I will begin a new week with a distinct desire to improve on the shallow and tawdry life I inherited.



SO...YOU SEE??? I SAVED THE WORLD!!!

yeahhhhhhh... I´m BATMAN! mmmmhhhh no, wait I´m THE NEW AMERICAN BEAUTY QUEEN!

eat that Barbie!

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