Episode 3.02 - "BlowOut"
Once again, my sister Jiselle's entering a very provocative, very competitive underground dance contest in Baltimore. So... as always, she has turned to me, her baby brother, to help make her performance Slutacular!! And I'm only more than happy to help! :-D Her persona of choice is the Las Vegas showgirl--I've already picked out her music: Gotta Move by Streisand and Fever by Bow Wow Wow. And luckily Jeff, her dance pimp, loves my taste in music.
Today we're going to AC Moore in hopes of picking up some hot fabric and decoration for her two costumes. That's right... since I come fully equipped with the ShowTune Gene, Jiselle just assumes that I know how to sew. Pfft! Do I look like Martha Stewart?! Anywho, we brave the 97-degree heat and head toward Glen Burnie. Speaking of which, I hate riding in a car with my sister, LOL! Really, every time a dance song comes on the radio, she loses her ever-lovin' mind, pumps her fists, and grips the steering wheel at the bottom with two fingers. Ummm, Ahhhh.
We're just cruisin' down Richie Highway when out of nowhere, we hear a huge explosion. I look out my window expecting to see a lit firecracker on the shoulder, but instead, the car veers to the right and almost spins out of control. Jiselle pulls onto the shoulder, scared out of her mind. All I can think is, at least we weren't on the beltway... otherwise, we would've been thrashed by the rush hour traffic. Instead, we're stranded right in front of bad-ass Glen Burnie High School. Hmmm, the beltway's lookin' kinda good now, LOL.
Unfortunately, cops don't stop in this neighborhood, so instead of helping us, the patrol cars speed past us... probably in high pursuit of some rat bastard. Jiselle gets a call from one of her girlfriends and it's enough to make even me blush: "Man, you won't fuckin' believe what just fuckin' happened! My fuckin' tire fuckin' blew the fuck out! Fuck yeah!" She hangs up the phone and calls Roadside Assistance. And Of Course, her roadside assistance has expired (which means a one-hour wait) so then we have to call the Rental Car company then Mom blah blah blah.
An hour later, the roadside assistance guy shows up in his pickup truck. He behaves like a pompous ass and tries to ream my sis for not changing her tire sooner. The jackass puts her spare (donut) on the car, even though she points out that the spare is pretty damn worn-out already. He ignores her. We give each other the big "Fuck You" and go our separate ways. Well... we make it 3 blocks up the road when the spare tire goes flat. Luckily, we've already pulled into a gas station, which is conveniently located right next to Pep Boys.
We go into Pep Boys, Jiselle orders a tire, and my phone rings to Madonna's Sorry. A senile, old Pep Boys mechanic rolls up on me and says: "Sonny-gem, you shoulda' had my music on there. I'm the pianist for Fantasia." I'm guessing he expects me to give a damn! I respond, "Good for you." What else can I say? I don't like Fantasia's voice. I mean, c'mon, she's been billed as "the new Macy Gray"... and I say, we didn't want the first Macy Gray, man!
Fate must be on our side because Pep Boys is on the left side of... you guessed it, AC Moore! Somehow, we broke down right where we needed to be. Sweet! And it is soooo much more disturbing than I ever imagined it would be. To cause even more of an estrogen overload, my mom shows up later to help us keep it tasteful.
Sequins, Feathers, Taffeta, Oh Crap! You have no idea how weird it is asking a saleswoman if you could buy some body glue so that you and your mother can make your sister some rhinestone pasties. :-P All I'll say is, I'll be far far away when she actually wears these costumes and works the pole. But seriously, I'm sure she'll make me and Mama proud. *tear* Whew, I'm sooo glad no one in my family's a prude.
Today we're going to AC Moore in hopes of picking up some hot fabric and decoration for her two costumes. That's right... since I come fully equipped with the ShowTune Gene, Jiselle just assumes that I know how to sew. Pfft! Do I look like Martha Stewart?! Anywho, we brave the 97-degree heat and head toward Glen Burnie. Speaking of which, I hate riding in a car with my sister, LOL! Really, every time a dance song comes on the radio, she loses her ever-lovin' mind, pumps her fists, and grips the steering wheel at the bottom with two fingers. Ummm, Ahhhh.
We're just cruisin' down Richie Highway when out of nowhere, we hear a huge explosion. I look out my window expecting to see a lit firecracker on the shoulder, but instead, the car veers to the right and almost spins out of control. Jiselle pulls onto the shoulder, scared out of her mind. All I can think is, at least we weren't on the beltway... otherwise, we would've been thrashed by the rush hour traffic. Instead, we're stranded right in front of bad-ass Glen Burnie High School. Hmmm, the beltway's lookin' kinda good now, LOL.
Unfortunately, cops don't stop in this neighborhood, so instead of helping us, the patrol cars speed past us... probably in high pursuit of some rat bastard. Jiselle gets a call from one of her girlfriends and it's enough to make even me blush: "Man, you won't fuckin' believe what just fuckin' happened! My fuckin' tire fuckin' blew the fuck out! Fuck yeah!" She hangs up the phone and calls Roadside Assistance. And Of Course, her roadside assistance has expired (which means a one-hour wait) so then we have to call the Rental Car company then Mom blah blah blah.
An hour later, the roadside assistance guy shows up in his pickup truck. He behaves like a pompous ass and tries to ream my sis for not changing her tire sooner. The jackass puts her spare (donut) on the car, even though she points out that the spare is pretty damn worn-out already. He ignores her. We give each other the big "Fuck You" and go our separate ways. Well... we make it 3 blocks up the road when the spare tire goes flat. Luckily, we've already pulled into a gas station, which is conveniently located right next to Pep Boys.
We go into Pep Boys, Jiselle orders a tire, and my phone rings to Madonna's Sorry. A senile, old Pep Boys mechanic rolls up on me and says: "Sonny-gem, you shoulda' had my music on there. I'm the pianist for Fantasia." I'm guessing he expects me to give a damn! I respond, "Good for you." What else can I say? I don't like Fantasia's voice. I mean, c'mon, she's been billed as "the new Macy Gray"... and I say, we didn't want the first Macy Gray, man!
Fate must be on our side because Pep Boys is on the left side of... you guessed it, AC Moore! Somehow, we broke down right where we needed to be. Sweet! And it is soooo much more disturbing than I ever imagined it would be. To cause even more of an estrogen overload, my mom shows up later to help us keep it tasteful.
Sequins, Feathers, Taffeta, Oh Crap! You have no idea how weird it is asking a saleswoman if you could buy some body glue so that you and your mother can make your sister some rhinestone pasties. :-P All I'll say is, I'll be far far away when she actually wears these costumes and works the pole. But seriously, I'm sure she'll make me and Mama proud. *tear* Whew, I'm sooo glad no one in my family's a prude.