V Script: “Velly Clit: Unstuck in Time”

Good mooooorning everyone, my name is Velonia, but you can call me Velly Clit. All my friends do…at least they did until I left our Quarantine Cottage on the eastern shore last week. This morning I certainly had an ~aim~ of giving you an entertaining, scintillating yet quaint show today.  Normally a “brunch” should would be in person with a uniform selection of pancake-like breakfast options and pork products…and I do hope you at least have some coffee, but here in my town I’m not able to perform in public without a mask yet until I’ve been fully vaccinated. So here I am in limbo…Someone broke up with me recently. I can’t quite remember which one it was, though … I feel like his name started with an ‘R…?’ Rrrrichard? Rrrrobert? Rrrroger? Mmm, yes, it must have been Roger. Richard’s dick was too thick and Rob’s knob was a slob…literally it wouldn’ stay hard unless I dressed like a sow and rolled around in the “mud” … which I can’t imagine is kosher, but then again when has fecal-play ever been considered “kosher?”

Takes a drink

Well, let’s get going.

Let’s Call The Whole Thing Off
Things have come to a pretty pass
Our romance is growing flat
For you like this and the other
While I go for this and that
Goodness knows what the end will be;
Oh, I don’t know where I’m at…
It looks as if we two will never be one
Something must be done

(Chorus 1)
You say Havana and I say Havahna
You say banana and I say banahna;
Havana, Havahna, banana, banahna
Let’s call the whole thing off!

You like potato and I like potahto
You like tomato and I like tomahto;
Potato, potahto, tomato, tomahto!
Let’s call the whole thing off!

But oh! If we call the whole thing off
Then we must part
And oh! If we ever part
Then that might break my heart!
So, if you like pyjamas and I like pyjahmas
I’ll wear pyjamas and give up pyjahmas
For we know we need each other
So we better call the calling off off
Let’s call the whole thing off!

(Chorus 2)
You say vanilla and I say vaneela
You say Corona and I say COVID;
vanilla, vaneela, or chocolate, strawberry
Let’s call the whole thing off!

You say Johnson and I say Johnson
You, got Pfizer and I got Moderna;
Johnson and Johnson, or any fucking vaccine on the market really!
Let’s call the whole thing off!

But oh! If we call the whole thing off
Then we must part
And oh! If we ever part
Then that might break my heart!
So, if you go for oysters and I go for ersters
I’ll order oysters and cancel the ersters
For we know we need each other
So we better call the calling off off!
Let’s call the whole thing off!

it’s been about a week since Roger has broken up with me, and it’s completely and totally thrown me off balance. My gravitational pull is out of whack now that I don’t have him in my orbit…i’ve been lying down a lot for who knows why … that was Roger’s favorite way to use gravity. Spin me around, knock me over, and suddenly we have a black hole exploration out of nowhere. Or sometimes honestly just the right little fuzzy ball in the mouth at the right time…you end up on your back for weeks…

Takes a drink

In case you were wondering…Roger broke it off because I signed up for my vaccine last week. There have been vaccines out for a while now, but of course most of our friends have been laughing it up off the eastern shore waiting for the offices to open back up to go back to brokering stock portfolios or reviewing divorce case files. We all grew up in Fairmont and most of the boys became white collared and red faced while the rest of us girls spent 1-2 years doing honorable service as artists models before becoming fresh-baked pies or perfume bottles or hand-embroidered toilet seat covers. It’s not that hard being a peach pie during a pandemic, especially when jam is in demand.

***THE NEIGHBOR WHO CAUGHT COVID – re-write (WEBCAM)

I, as a mere woman, a peaceful female, who, when it comes to difficult situations in life, has also proved to be harmless and accommodating to men, of a contemplative, may I say philosophical, nature, really have nothing to do here in person, although urged by an irresistible compulsion, to appear amongst you with that dignified composure and scientific meekness, fraught with the weighty earnestness of the moment, here at this abyss of manifold and unheard-of symptoms which seems to be clad in known treatments, but in reality is decked out (to speak pictorially) with deceptive blossoms whose roots have poked out of their spherical manifestation and revealed themselves to be a destructive poison, for nothing in this world, not consideration for my own physical safety nor the fear of future persecution nor any particular idea of a moralistic, intellectual, material or even purely aesthetic sort will restrain me from revealing the truth: it may begin with fever or chills and develop into a shortness of breath or an overall difficulty breathing, whereby your body will fatigue and ache requiring an amount of stagnant rest that is met with a drumming in the head, a pounding persisting on your skull that ultimately overrides your sense of smell and consequently or convolutedly your sense of taste; the pounding in the head will shift and morph to a sore throat that will be met in like-minded fashion by a running nose in tandem with congestion, reigniting the pounding in your head to the point of nausea that your fatigued body cannot comprehend as a sound or logical response to its growing weariness; perhaps this weariness will infect your mind and new confusion settles in across your forehead as your lips and nails pale and shrink back from the rose-tinted normalcy we all knew a year ago. Perhaps your skin will turn blue as my heart and you’ll need assistance breathing, because catching your breath during heartbreak is nearly impossible. What if you go to the grocery store and you pass the passion fruit on your way to a six-pack…is that crown you’ve stumbled upon a cursed object – a guest entering our home that we never invited over to begin with? You’re the bell of the ball, and your breath will be taken away.

Roger said he was afraid my peach pie would shrivel up into a pit pocket. He said he was afraid that any future progeny with me would have two heads or an extraordinary ability to count. He said vaccines are the modern equivalent to a witch’s brew and that the doctors who concocted them were footsoldiers of the devil. He said that a microchip gets implanted with any shot handed out by the government, and until i could afford to purchase a designer doctor, I didn’t deserve his company.

It’s a real pickle when the man you want to fuck openly rebukes science.

Smile

Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what’s the use of crying?
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what’s the use of crying?
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

Would you all mind if we took a small break? If there’s one thing a year in isolation has taught me it’s that being sad is a sort of spiral that lands you in a way of life full of no bathing eating cheezits and repeated episodes of the Golden Girls. It may be time to investigate a bit of an antidote. Standby, please. 

Play TikTok “Mood” by 24k Golden video or “Supalonely” by Benee

Yes, We Have No Bananas

There’s a man in my DMs
Who goes by “Mr. Yeet”
Says he has “good things to eat”
But you should hear him speak!
When you ask him anything, he always answers “no”
Or “IDK” or “yeah, I guess” and then I slow my roll
I tell you

“Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
We’ve string beans, and onions
CabBAHges, and scallions
And all sorts of fruit and say
We have an old fashioned to-mah-to
A Long Island po-tah-to
But yes, we have no bananas
But try me the week after next!

Business got so bad for me that I wrote home to say
“Mom and Dad, be glad for me, I’ve found another way.
Men are trash is my refrain; I mean it don’t you bet.”
A buzz in here, a plug in there, and I am heaven-set
Because, boys:

Yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today
Just try those coconuts
Those walnuts and doughnuts
There ain’t many nuts like they
We’ll sell you two kinds of red herring
Dark brown, and ball-bearing
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today!

Getting a little naked and a little drunk is usually fine, right? When you’re hiding from how the man you “love” doesn’t love you enough to get vaccinated so we can reach herd immunity so we can go out in public again to actually see our friends and family? Can I have another shot, though? Is that allowed?

Takes a drink.

Listen, y’all. Men are garbage. It’s like first they want you to be disease-free and then when you try to take steps to *be* disease free they accuse you of being a witch. It’s like the market value is so low that the simplest things – showering, a compliment on how my eyes look nice, the smallest interest in my clitoris – they become these insanely rare collectors items! And if we’re all honest: aren’t we just trying to find someone to snuggle up for the end of times with? That’s what I did, and look how it turned out for me! Drunk and alone. Well. Not totally alone, I mean, you’re all here! Or there…

.

I didn’t think I’d actually be this excited for two shots in my arm. I never thought I’d be this scared of people. I never thought I’d be this scared of the air.

.

We’re very near something, though. Who’s to say which something will be best?

.

.

And if that isn’t the very DEFINITION of fun, then…i mean, isn’t it evidence that our dictionary is failing us?

Ain’t We Got Fun

Every morning, every evening
Ain’t we got fun
Not much money
Oh, but honey
Ain’t we got fun
The rent’s unpaid dear
And we haven’t a car
But anyway dear
How lucky we we are

In the winter, in the summer
Ain’t we got fun?
Times are bum and getting bummer
Still we have fun.
There’s nothing surer
The rich get rich and the poor get poorer
In the spring time, in the meantime 
Ain’t we got fun

Every morning, every evening
Don’t we got fun
Sins and cares dear
Come in pairs dear
Still we have fun
We owe the butcher,
She says it ain’t free
Meanwhile please put your
Lovin’ arms around me

Men are mad and getting madder
Don’t we have fun
Times are bad and getting badder
Still we have fun
And here’s the joker
The rich get rich and the broke get broker
In the meantime, in between time
Ain’t we got fun

I’ll tell you, one time I was in the most dreadfully dull conversation with a theatre critic over that confounded musical and they kept yammering on about the inflation rates in Weimar, Germany that John Ebb and Fred Kander were so *smart* to put into that fucking *musical* to illustrate the INFLATION and how exotic a fucking pineapple MUST HAVE BEEN at that TIME and how the SONG contributes to the overall WORLD BUILDING of the PLAY.

And here I am, in the 21st year of the 21st century saying: good sir, it is just a PINEAPPLE, MAYBE a stretched metaphor about two old dotty fuckers falling in love and using FRUIT as a EUPHEMISM for sweet, old, boring, geriatric sex that we are all doomed to if we live to 60. Please. Move forward with your life. Find your geriatric sex partner.

Takes multiple shots

You know, I would trade the devil something very very valuable if he would just make Roger believe in vaccine science and get the goddamn shot….Nudes maybe. Or my entire political belief system…

Goebbels Propaganda Ordinance – COVID variation

I would indulge in cheap and frivolous vilification of the conditions of public life entailed by the necessity of a pandemic. It is imperative that so-called political jokes offer open *or* covert criticism of politics and the economic and cultural leadership of the Administration. How else will we win back the hearts of those well-hung members of society laced with vaccine hesitancy. They scoff at the informed characteristics of public health officials’ unique assessments and thereby contribute to imperiling the inner unity of the nation…and yet the dick. We cannot live without it. Which is the most important prerequisite for the victorious termination of this disease’s spread…herd immunity through unprotected sexual encounters with the unvaccinated population. 

Is anyone actually *that* dick starved?

Considering that my repeated, earnestly enjoined admonitions of this particular brand of man have obviously borne no fruit and the old defects and liberal-democratic style of government continue to surface afresh, I find myself compelled more than ever to take decisive measures at protecting my own lung and labia capacity, limiting each’s proximity to the ignorant masses:

Comments by the proletariat, including the allegedly well-meaning, on circumstances and events of public life pertaining to the health and safety of the population are forbidden on my news feed.

It is forbidden to play one race off against another. All the forces of public life must be directed to the unity of the people. Problems which needlessly inflame emotions and which are of subordinate significance to the victorious carrying-out of the vaccination of the population will be barred from public discussion within my channels of influence. This decree represents an ultimate, earnest, and urgent admonition. Transgressions will be punished with the harshest penalties.

Get. Out. Of. My. D.M.s  ROGER

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.

.

.

.

I’m sorry this took such a turn. You’ve no idea how jealous I get of my fellow citizens, sitting outside under the sun close together, pretending that the air we exchange didn’t betray us. I spent the last year on the eastern shore with a man who chanted “Down with fascists” at my dear friend Dolly while throwing her grandmother’s banana bread recipe because she dared suggest we look into mask-wearing. 

And really, it’s not so much the man I’ll miss.

I wish we could hold hands and exchange superficial pleasantries and … not have to commit to such a long termed shacking-up with someone you discover is an idiot in the midst of a quarantine. 

I wish I could see you all. My mother was meant to come today.

I Wonder Where Our Love Has Gone

All I know is that I’m in love with you
Even though you say that we are through
I know without your love I just can’t go on
I wonder where our love has gone

Always thought you’d love me more and more
Never dreamed you’d ever let me go
I know without your love I just can’t go on
I wonder where our love has gone

Oh what did I do, and what did I say
Never could lead you to treat me this way
If I’ve been untrue I’m willing to pay
Darling, if that’s not enough I’ll do anything you say
So darling, please, wherever you may be
Hear my plea, hurry home to me
I know without your love I just can’t go on
I wonder where our love has gone

Oh what did I do, and what did I say
Never could lead you to treat me this way
If I’ve been untrue I’m willing to pay
Darling, if that’s not enough I’ll do anything you say
So darling, please, wherever you may be
Hear my plea, hurry back to me
I know without your love I just can’t go on
I wonder where our love has gone

End

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