Posts Tagged ‘childhood

04
May
08

More Pics of The Stay Puff Marshmallow Girl

I am not quite sure what I was thinking here when I designed this sassy Thinking Cap. It was my first foray into the world of fashion design. Early on, you can sense the eccentricities of my style, as well as the obvious Red China influence my father had on me. Fierce!

I think I was going for a “Little Red Popette” theme with my look. I wasn’t even Catholic, but somewhere in me, there was a Cardinal!

“Daddy, wake-up! It’s time to take me to chemo!! DADDY!!!!! DADDY!!!!!!!!”

Behold The Stay Puff Marshmallow Girl in all her blinding white glory!

So bald. So white. So chubby. Really, in many ways, I haven’t changed a bit.

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29
Apr
08

Will YOU Please Go To Wild Waves With Me? *please*

I know it’s not quite warm enough yet, but it will be soon. And I really, really, really want to go to Wild Waves. I saw a commercial today for this new casino with this kick-ass waterpark, and it just got me all excited for summertime again. And since I really shouldn’t be going to casinos-not because of the gambling, but because it’s on an indian reservation, and no doubt it’d spark a drinking binge for me-the next best thing is our sooper-cool Six Flags ThemePark Enchanted Village/Wild Waves!!!

(Actually, the Enchanted Village part is really gimpy. It’s more like those cheesy portable rodeo carnivals with the ancient rickety rides you’re sure are going to collapse and fall apart on you, crushing you to death in a smoking heap of rust of cracked plastic) But the Wild Waves part really is hella fun and sooper kewl. I’m designing my own waterslide that I hope the Six Flags people will buy from me, I think it would be a runaway smash sensation with both kids and parents and even old folks alike. It would be called the LeDonna Lee Lightening Locomotive (TM) Liquid Luge (and FunTime Silicone Lubricant wading Pool). It would look something like this:

Now I know what you’re thinking, it LOOKS like it would just be any other regular old waterslide, but oh no, this one is different. Rather than cascading down the twisted mountain of loops, curves and swerves on water, (so yesterday!) you and your friends will be gliding along a lightweight film of AstroLube, splashing down into an luxuriously exhilarating lagoon of cherry-flavored cellulose carbohydrate personal lubricant! (Banana flavor is available every Wednesday and the third Friday night of the month) Since it’s 99.3% water, it’s easily hosed off by our onsite Personal Powerwash SuperShower! And if you’re liking what you’re feeling, you can just continue the fun down at the LD Lover’s Lounge where you can frolic in the Hasbro(TM) Twister Tank, pin’ em down down at the MMA Brazilian Jujitsu Oil Wrestling Arena,or just turn down the lights and up the love in the LD Orgymatic Freelovin’ Nub Hut (maximum capacity 458 ) brought to you by Budweiser and our friends at Durex. Oh, and mark your calendars-next summer I hope to add on the bodacious LeDonnarama Disko Bootie Barn and Anal LuvHut. See you all there!

I’m really sad, because my boyfriend refuses to go to Wild Waves with me. He says swimming in public pools is unsanitary, and he picked up the ringworm one time when he went to a waterpark as a kid. Personally, I think he just doesn’t want to admit he probably got it from himself. {I know what a secret poop-picker upper he was when he was a kid. Ooops, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.} Sorry, hun. Besides, I’m not afraid of anybody’s funky old ringworm! I have my own chiggers and body lice, that’ll scare any old puss-ass ringworm away! Shoo!

I think this deep-seeded desire for aquatastic beachtime summer fun stems from a deficit from my childhood. As a young adolescent, I was overweight and abhorrently pale, and would rather endure the flames of a thousand fires than expose the world to my obscene fleshiness in a bathing suit or shorts.As a result I rarely spent much time in the sun (which lead to the vicious circle of continuous pastiness and obesity, as one generally cannot get a tan if their skin is never exposed to the sun, and one cannot shed pounds if their lard ass refuses to move). There was one time that I gathered up enough nerve to go to Waterworld with a few of my other calorically-challenged friends. Here we are posing for the camera in an effort to appear happy, footloose and fancy-free:

Of course, I’m the one one the right, the redhead. (I always made sure I was the runt of the litter, subversively choosing my friends that made me look thinner. I know, I know, it’s a self-esteem issue)

Also, I remember I was always trying to get my parents to take me out to a waterpark, or even to a neighborhood swimming pool. But they never really had the time, they were always busy working at the store. Finally, Mama caved in and got me this thing here to shut me up:

I’m not sure what that was, I think she emptied out one of her old plastic shoe bins. It was fun and all, but somehow, it just didn’t quite do the trick. My heart still yearned for just a little something more.

So please, would you please, accompany me to Wild Waves this summer! We can get a Season Pass, or maybe cash in some Pepsi Cans and get $5 off an EarlyBird admission. It’ll be fun. We’ll get matching sunburns, drink $6 fountain pops, and maybe even come out of it with an ear infection!! Yay!!! Thank you so much, you’re the best! I can’t wait! Woo Hoo! Yay!!!!! I’m goin’ to Wild Waves! I’m goin’to Wild Waves! (Insert “Happy Dance” here)

23
Apr
08

Mom!

You know, it figures it would have started right at the exact moment I just happened to hit puberty. The universe has its way of jacking with me like that. It gets a real big kick out of fucking with me, likes to tell me I’m an “easy target”. Yeah, I guess I always have been kinda gullible like that.

What the fuck am I talking about, you ask? And what is this nefarious “it” I’m pissing on about,and what does it have to do with that magical, yet subtly perturbing rite of passage that occurs when a girl takes her first wobbly steps down the golden path of her burgeoning womanhood? And, I don’t mean a bat mitzvah-that’s crazy, I’m not even Jewish. You know what I’m talking about.

That “it” is HER. HER!! Yeah, that her, as in the very famous lady in the picture you’re staring right at, who just happens to bear a name that is just too ridiculously similar to mine? You know who I’m talking about. That Miss Queen Of Media herself (no wait, that’s Perez!)…I mean, you know, Queen Of Pop, Queen of the World, Queen Of Sheba, Queen Of Shame, Queen Fucking Bee..whatever. Fucking queen of everything, MADONNA.

Do you have ANY idea what this woman has done to my life? Beginning at about age 13, she latched on to my psyche like a bloodsucking lamprey and has been gnawing her way through the corpulent bowels of my ego ever since. I mean, you remember when Madonna first exploded on the scene, and began herTerminator- esque quest for her Holy Grail of Complete and Total World Domination? Yeah, it was crazy, right? She was every where, you couldn’t escape her- radio, MTV, (or, Friday Night Videos for lame-o’s like me whose parents refused to get cable), the TV, magazines, album covers, posters, cds and cassettes flying all over the place…bad movies…Madonna t-shirts, bandannas, pins, notebooks,mugs, hats, underwear, outerwear, decorative tea cozys,vibrators…you name it, her face, name, ass, something-was on it. (Ok, I’m making up the vibrator part…but you know, now that I think of it…I wonder why there are no Madonna vibrators, dildos, scented massage oils…you think there would be, it’s a natural market…oh, wait,I’m getting a message here… what’s that? An anal plug? Really???? Ok, so, what you’re telling me is there was a limited edition anal plug Madonna was endorsing somewhere around 1987? Huh, interesting. I was not aware of that. Now, that little nugget should come in handy next trivia night!)

The point is that the 80’s were complete Madonna Mania for everyone, everywhere. Now, just stop for a second and put yourself in the shoes of someone whose name is almost just fucking like hers. It was hell, that’s what it was, pure and utter hell. The moment Borderline became a hit and the world fell under that damn strumpet’s spell, was the moment I ceased to be LeDonna…and morphed into LeDonna, The Ultimate Madonna Wannabe.

I didn’t even WANT to be like Madonna, really…ok, you got me. I suppose there was a certain moment when I would look upon her ever-increasing status as an entertainment, fashion and sex icon with perhaps a faint whisper of envy. And not that I particularly ever wanted to be any such thing myself…you know, beautiful, famous, wealthy, desired by the masses…oh, good heavens, no! Not me. No no no no no no.

Around the Sean Penn had dumped Madonna and she started showing up to awards shows with Micheal Jackson, I threw up my hands in defeat. Obviously, she was a creative force to be reckoned with, and much like that blasted ingrown toenail I’d been battling with since my freshman year that refused to heal-she certainly wasn’t about to give up and just go away, and in fact, was growing larger and more noticeable each and every day. I had to accept that Madonna had become a permanent cross-stitch in the fabric of my life.

It probably wouldn’t have bothered me so much that she had started this fashion phenomenon and all the hip girls were dressing like her and looking cute if I hadn’t been so damn fat. Those ripped tees,mesh tanks and black rubber bracelets that looked so cute on all the skinny girls-if you put that same outfit on me, I looked like something fished up out of the Hudson River. Now I’ll just throw on a dead body and maybe one of those plastic 6-pack holders…alright! Let’s go! I’m into the groove!

Everytime my name was mentioned, I would hear someone-somewhere-“Madonna”? As if, where?  Here?! No, dipshit. Madonna is no where in the vicinity, today’s not your lucky day, you didn’t win the lottery or anything. It’s just me. LE-D0N-NA.

When I’m introduced to someone, 9 times out of ten, they will look at me quizically and say,“Madonna?!”, like I’m fucking with them somehow, playing some silly name game. “You’re not Madonna!” is one I get a lot. “I’m NOT?” I’d shoot back in astonishment. “Good God, you’re absolutely right. What was I thinking? There I go again, just assuming the identity of some random celebrity as my own…damn shrink was supposed to adjust my medication. I’m so sorry, this won’t happen again”.

Then I would be forced to clarify. “No, It’s LeDonna, kinda like Madonna, but with an ‘L’ instead of ‘M’…and ‘e’ instead of ‘a’, but it still sounds the same! Oh, and I get a big D, not a little one like hers”.

“So it’s like two names?” gggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I always dreaded the start of each new school year, because it was inevitable at least half the teachers would totally bungle my name, they could never tell if it was “Lee” or “Donna” or “Lee-Donna”,none of which were correct.

“So is your first name ‘Lee’, or is it ‘Donna’, and your middle name’s Lee?”

Yeah, Miss Lady with The Master’s Degree. My first name is Donna, middle name is Le, and my last name is Lee. That makes perfect sense. Donna Le Lee. Donna Le Lee, that’s me! You know, my mother was crazy, and yes, a touch redneck,but she wasn’t so out of her freaking mental galaxy that she would dream up a name as stoopid as “Donna Le Lee”. If she had, I surely would not be standing before right now, because I would have already committed suicide the moment I realized I was actually supposed to spend the rest of my days with a name that sounds like I’m a back-up dancer for Don Ho.

And please, let’s not even get started on my middle name.

“Alright, what’s your middle initial?”

“K.”

“What does that stand for?”

“Kay.”

“No, what does it stand for?”

“Kay.”

“No, I mean, what does the “K” stand for? ”

“Kay!”

“Honey, are you speaking spanish, is that it, are you trying to say ‘what’? I didn’t mean “que” as in “que-so”,I meant, what does the letter ‘K’ stand for in your name?”

“IT STANDS FOR KAY. K-A-Y, MOTHERFUCKING KAY! AS IN MARY ‘KAY’, RHYMES WITH GAY, KAY!!!! Do you understand me now?”

“Oh, yes, I see, Kay! LeDonna Kay Lee. My, isn’t that just the prettiest name!”

You four-eyed fat fuck of a liar. You don’t have to patronize. I know my name sucks.

Actually, I have made peace and grown to like my name. I think it sounds kinda cool, kinda like a movie star. LeDonna Lee. Which is awesome, because one day, I will be. I haven’t given up dreams of entertainment glory. As long as there are webcams and pornos, I still have hope.




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