Shoveling it to the public

Beulah Snodgrass: Life In The Fast Lane

Let me tell you. I'm no stranger to New Years Eve celebrations, but this past Thursday has to be one of the most action packed of my life. Never have I seen so many balls drop at one time in my life. It all started when Dex Rexter picked me up. We were going to go over to the big Tempe Fiesta Bowl Block Party, which is one of the biggest parties in the nation. Dex was going to cruise for college chicks and I was cruising for college hunks, hopefully some young Kansas State or Ohio State player.

I was dressed to kill in my ankle length red cotton dress with lace frill around my neck. I put on my best red felt hat and stuck a pheasant feather in the band just for luck. I even wore knee high stockings with my sexy white orthopedics. Dex and I stopped in at Sonic for some grilled cheese sandwiches and then we were off. First Dex wanted to stop at the Cactus Leopard Lounge to get a few table dances before we headed down to Tempe. Since I recently discovered my bisexuality, I was all for it. We each got a table dance from this sumptuous stripper named Tatiana, who said she was from Russia. Her features were very Hispanic and her accent sounded very much like Spanish but who was I to argue. She gave me quite a thrill when she slapped her bazooms in my face, and ol' Dex was pitching a pup tent. We were primed for a night of va-va-voom!

We arrived at the Block Party a couple of hours before midnight. Since the parking structure was full we drove around a nearby neighborhood. Fortunately, we found a friendly lady from the neighborhood who let us park on her lawn. Actually, she wasn't home but I'm sure she wouldn't have minded. Then we walked around looking for action. Dex was looking pretty sharp in his tweed jacket and jeans, smoking his pipe. So it was no wonder he got hit upon first. Unfortunately for Dex, it was some guy named Mikey, who wanted to clean his pipe for him. Dex politely declined, but that guy followed us around for quite some time. This seemed to unnerve Dex, as he was constantly looking anxiously over his shoulder. Fortunately, Mikey ran into a friend of his with a blue Mohawk, who looked like a Mad Max reject, and they started following a solitary older man down an alley.

We ducked into a tavern called The Neon Gecko. Bingo! The place was hopping with young co-eds. Dex immediately hit the jackpot, when three young blonde lovelies came over and mistook him for one of their college professors. Dex isn't one to correct an oversight like this and he offered them a way to improve their grade. That was the last I saw of Dex for the evening. From what he told me later, the girls passed anatomy class with flying colors.

Being left alone, I not only had to find a boy toy I also had to find a ride home. I made the best of it. I saw no football players, but I did see several hunky prospects. Twenty minutes, 10 shots of Jagermeister and 25 rejections later, I was out of prospects. I decided to get a breath of fresh air and walked out of the bar.

It was about a half hour until midnight. Mill Ave had filled up with rowdy revelers and concertgoers. I had no sooner gone twenty feet than who did I run into but my hair stylist and Cactus Needles Trailer Park's pride and joy, Shirley Ray Bodine. Now she is a party animal! She loved to wear her hair in a bouffant and she always wore tight fitting clothes. Tonight was no exception. She wore a tight fitting leopard print sweater, which showed off her ample boob job, a tight black leather mini skirt and high-heeled stiletto shoes. Needless to say, she was getting a lot of attention from the guys. She noticed me, squealed with delight and gave me a hug. She then invited me to hang around with her. My heart leapt with joy. I was sure to get lucky tonight!

Shirley gave me a bottle of whiskey and I took a swig. Then we started shimmying around and she shook her bosoms in my face. I was about ready to say screw the guys and try to get it on with Shirley, when a group of guys gathered around us and started to dance with us. We each took a few more swigs from the bottle. Everything was spinning. I was dancing in whirling dervish around some chunky, swarthy looking character that, in my drunken stupor, was a cross between a Neanderthal man exhibit and George Clooney. He looked as drunk as I felt, but he sure was digging me.

Then we heard the crowd counting down and we all joined in. I sought Shirley out and there was a crowd of horny men around her waiting for a chance to kiss her at the first second of the New Year. The second came and the crowd let out a cheer. But Shirley decided to tease before she kissed. She lifted her sweater and flashed her breasts to all the salivating dogs. She created quite a sensation. Then the guys all dropped their pants and showed off their wares. Let's just say that they all were saluting. Big Time! I felt emboldened and hot-to-trot. I bent over and started pulling my dress up to flash my boobs. It took a few seconds since I wore an ankle length dress but I finally got my garment up. Then I realized I was wearing my bloomers, my corset and my metal cone bra. All the guy's flowers wilted. That is except old dark and gruesome. I think he liked my Madonna bra. Shirley revved up the boys again by going around to each and French kissing everyone for the New Year. Then they all lifted her up and carried her off. I decided to go for it with Mr. Low Brow and went running into his arms. That's the last thing I remember from that night.

The next morning I woke up, rolled over and found myself next to a carpet of human hair. I mean this guy put Ed Asner to shame. I removed some hair from my mouth. I felt my stomach start to churn. He awoke, rolled over and looked at me. He then rubbed his eyes, looked closer at me and groaned in agony. Much projectile vomiting ensued for both of us. After the pukefest, I gathered my things and left the missing link's apartment and caught a cab to my house where I promptly collapsed into my own bed for a good long rest.

All in all it was a magical night. I can't remember if ol' Sasquatch was good in bed. I never did get his name and I can't even remember where he lived. But I realized that I've got to hang out with Shirley Ray Bodine more often. She is one hell of a hottie! Cactus Needles Trailer Park, here I come!