Tuesday, November 3, 2009

a porsche with a view...



[just to fill in the stoners among you who aren't following along, misty was asleep on the zuma cliffs, in the early a.m., in her auto, after watching some teen honey strangle her pick up from a west l.a. club. i was being a peeping misty, and, guess i just got lucky...]


a chip is not the first thing you want to see in the morning.
thank goodness it wasn't that erik estrada guy!


     i heard a knock not far from my head.
     believe me sweeties, that's enough to earn you a .22 in just the right place, when i'm sleeping soundly.
     howevahhh, when i looked up and saw who was knocking, i "copped" a different tude...pun, pun, misty made a pun!
     a hollywood handsome chp was rapping on my speedster window, with that look of, "not another bimbo passed out in her porsche..."
     which, i'm sure happens a lot in 'the' malibu.
     howevah, i wasn't stoned.
     misty is not a big believer in the drug culture. unless, of course, i'm using narcotix to put a vic under.

     "yes officer, may i help...uh, help you."
     i was still waking up. by the looks of the sun over the zuma and trancas canyons, it was eightish.
     misty should always be allowed to sleep at eightish in the a.m.
     "Yes mam, you can help me. i want to be sure you're alright. have you been sleeping here since last night?" mr. chp officer said. ohhh so nicely i might add.
     "why yes, sir, i'm sooo very all right. guess i fell asleep. didn't want to drive as i was, er, getting sleepies."
     misty can be very very nice when she wants.

     "that's always a good idea mam. might you hand me your vehicle registration and driver's license? just protocol," chippie so courteously requested.
     of course, misty always had her california state i.d. with her whenever in lalaland. or anywhere else in the wacko state.
     i handed it to him.
     "thank you mam. miss donna leslie. donna, is this still your address in west los angeles?"
     "why yes officer sir." i thought i'd throw some of his mam crap back in his pretty face with a 'sir' or two.
     "and i see your insurance is up to date. this is a rental?"
     " i do a lot of traveling, so i don't keep a car here. so yes, a rental, sire."
     maybe that was a bit too much crap to throw. sire. geeesh misty, give the guy a break.
     "right mam. this is california. in fact, i think we are in malibu. even so, last i checked, there were no royal titles in use in this municipality."
     " sooo right. my apologies. i wasn't trying to be..."
     "sarcastic mam? that's ok. get it all the time. however, it's a pleasure to be getting it from such an attractive young lady so early in the morning. my girlfriend doesn't get her wit going until 10 a.m. so it's very much appreciated."


chp boy was kinda cute. walked back to his bike like
hud...that 'roll of nickels up your ass' kinda way


     well. if i didn't punt for the other team, he'd be quite the charmer to take to the malibu surf motel to fuck for a day or so. or whenevah he got off shift.
     "you are certainly a darling. your gal friend is a lucky doll. if i may be so bold to comment on your personal life," i nawtily said.
     "as they say in court, i opened up the line of questioning, here's your license back. do be careful mam...uh, donna," he said with just the sweetest smile.
     "you are a honey. don't take offense, i am a big girl. i will be careful."
     "i don't want you to misunderstand...donna. there was a murder in the area last night. or, we assume it was last night. while you were asleep, a body was found up towards neptune's net. young man. strangled. i'd be careful around here. least until law enforcement puts this together."
     ohhh myyy.
     my little sweetheart from last nite was a busy daddy's girl.
     i fell asleep and, very un-misty-like, i assumed she'd keep her dead date at beach house central until the next day.
     i sooo had the urge to turn around and look down the hill, but i knew what i'd see. honey doll's mustang gone. she'd spent the early morning hours dumping her plaything. up around neptune's net.
     "oh my goodness. thank you for telling me. i had no idea things like that happened around these parts," i said, lying my stinkin' panties off. oh, i forgot, i wasn't wearing panties.
     which reminded me. luxo rentals was going to have to detail my passenger side leather bucket recaro upon my returning the speedster...i am always so juicy watching a good kill. whether i did it or not.


last i'd seen of killer girl last nite, she was standing naked, above
her honey, who she'd just strangled...now, the cops had found her dead boy toy


     "ok, mam..."
     "donna, pleeeease..."
     he smiled. such a nice smile. for a fucking cop.
     bad misty!
     california chips are as much like real cops as tuxedoed groom dolls on wedding cakes are like real men. which is a compliiment for those of you keeping score. misty is not a fan of men or cops. generally speaking.
     "yes, donna. please be careful out there."
     he gave me back my faux license and reg.
     "ok mister chp officer. by the way, anyone ever tell you you're the cat's pajamas?"
     "just middle aged malibu ladies with too much botox trying to talk their way out of left turn tickets. you're a refreshing change. now, be careful."
     he turned and walked back to his motorbike. he had that 'roll of nickels up his ass' walk of marilyn in 'some like it hot'. or paul newman in 'hud'.
     mmmm, misty! don't tell me you still have it in you to switch hit?!

     i thought of shoving a roll of nickels up mister chips' tight ass as i shoved my speedster into gear, and peeled onto pch going back towards civilization.
   
     i also thought of that poor dead kid in a field near neptune's net, nearly coming all over my recaro again!
     watching that boy toy get his neck tied tight had taken hold of me like nothing before.
     don't get me wrong. i'm not a fan of serial killing. so de classe. gauche. a true act of desperation!
     my goodness...if you can't find a legitimate way to kill people in this big wonderful sick world, then you are a real loser!


so honey musta locked up, and slipped down the beach house stairs
after packing  murdered boy toy into her mustang...then drove off to
dump him at neptune's net! whatta time for misty to have fallen asleep!


     howeverrr, daddy's little college girl in the mustang last night was probably just finding herself. perhaps she was a future misty. i did commit a few nawty delites prior to my first real job. so, don't judge too harshly, misty.
     the point being, i don't approve of killing willy nilly. i'm very proud of my profession. maybe i'm a closet republican. believe in order. the free market system. at least when it comes to murder.
     but, as slummy as serial killing is...and how much i totaleee disapprove of such rampant libertinism...when performed by a luscious doll, on a male of the species, i get all gushy inside.
     squirt.


misty drove off in her speedster, parked on pch, and had jo
at the first dive i came across. misty was all worked up...

     which meant i had to do something about how hot i was feeling.
     something i rarely did.
     i would call josesphine.
     i couldn't wait for the next job to just come rolling in like...well, like the surf at malibu.
     i needed a kill now. like twenty minutes ago.
     i'd pull in the first open dive on pch, have a cuppa jo. and call josephine.
     no, assholes, not her real name. don't even try to figure jout who, what, when, where or why. just enjoy what i do tell you.


misty, like her heroine, loved the nightlife...which for misty
 meant a kill. after watching that teen doll murder her date
last nite, i needed some kill action of my own...

     anywayyy...josephine was a sweety.
     she always hooked me up when i had that lust for...as alicia bridges would say...
     ...ack-shawn!

[to be oh sooo continued...with a few surprises about your misty...]
  

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