WELCOME

TO

PAN-EROTICA

PUBLISHING LTD.!!!!!

 
   KissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKissKiss  

http://studiotablinum.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/adone.jpg  
   
   WE'RE SO GLAD YOU  CAME!!!!
 
 

PAN-EROTICA PUBLISHING IS A PRIVATE COMPANY THAT LIKES TO GET A LITTLE BIT TOTALLY NOT PRIVATE AT ALL FROM TIME TO TIME! ; ) VERY SPECIAL TIMES. TIMES FOR LIKE FUCKING AND OTHER STUFF TOO. COME INTO OUR BOUDOIR. COME IN THE BOUDOIR. YEAH OUR BOUDOIR IS SO READY. SO READY TO SEE YOU MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE. YEAH COMFROTABLE + READY. READY FOR FUCKING. COME INTO OUR CRAZY SEX LOVE CHAMBER. WHERE THE THINGS ARE HAPPENING. YEAH THE STUFF. OH YEAHHHH. THINGS THAT ARE JUST SO CRAZY THAT YOU CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE WHAT YOU'RE READING ABOUT WHEN YOU'RE READING HERE. SECRET SWEATY NASTY THINGS. LIKE SEX STUFF. SO MUCH SEX AND FUCKING. OH YOU LIKE TO READ? WHY NOT READ ABOUT SOME SEX? SEX STUFF AND FUCKING. OUR WRITERS ARE GOOD. IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEEEEAN. THEY KNOW HOW TO GET YOU THERE. YOU'RE PROBABLY BREATHING HEAVY ALREADY. YEAH I'M BREATHING HEAVY. AND THIS IS JUST THE INTRODUCTION. WELL, DON'T FEEL BAD. I'M  HOT TOO. AND I THIS WAS WRITTEN BACK IN 1994. WELL WHAT ARE WE WATING FOR? IS IT HOT IN HERE OR IS IT JUST YOU? HOT LIKE SEXY HOT. OH YEAH. YEAH.  

 
 

 

FIRST ENTRY!!!!

 

ARE you readY?!????????

 

STARTING

in

 

10

 

 

 

 

9

 

 

 

8

 

 

 

 

7

 

 

 

 

6

 

 

5

 

4

 

3

 

2

1

 

 

NOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!

 

 

CHRISTMAS  CARD FROM A MUPPET IN MINNEAPOLIS


Dear Floyd,                                                      12/12/14

 

Hey, Floyd. How's it going? I hope it's going good. Hope you're happy. Hope the creative jucies are flowing and you're writing a lot of new songs for when I get back! How's Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem? Are you guys playing out much? Probably not many gigs this time of year. I really appreciate you all being so cool about me taking a little time off to figure some shit out. Yeah, I just. I just really made a mess of things this time, didn't I?

The last few months since I left New York are all a big fuzzy blur to me now, Floyd. I just started thinking about so many things I never thought about before, you know? I mean, the fact that some man just made us for his own amusement and for everyone else's amusement too and he just left us like this, shouldn't that eat at the others too? I mean, what are we doing here? How could he be gone and we're still here? It just doesn't make any sense. So I've been going through a lot, obviously. I mean, yesterday I saw a re-run of Muppet Babies and just started bawling.

You won't believe me when I tell you where I ended up. I went from Jersey to Pittsburgh to Chicago. I shudder when I think about the things I had to do to hitch across Wisconsin. And now, here I am, Minnesota, with only 2 weeks til Christmas. Seems impossible, doesn't it? The idea of getting my polyfoam ass from Minneapolis to New York in just a few days. But baby met an angel last night. Everything's different now for ol' Janice. Everything.

For the past month, I've been playing at the open mic night above this sake bar on South Lyndale. I really didn't go there because I heard the sake/open mic scene was jammin, it was because they advertised "comfy couches" on their website. I got close with one of the ramen cooks, Hiro, well, as close as I could, and he got me a regular gig on Wednesday nights. He's such a nice guy. There's no money, but when it's not the first Wednesday of the month they let me sleep on the couches. The first Wednesday of the month it's called the "Big Boy Lounge."

I met a girl last night. She said her name was Loonette. She heard me play and liked my set. She said she was from Toronto and also came for the comfy couches and smiled kind of sheepishly like I should know why. It turns out she was on a PBS kids TV show back in the 90s called "The Big Comfy Couch." I'd never heard of it.

It took her a while to build up to it, but things hadn't gone very well for her either. Her time on the show ended in 2002. She tried to make another go of it back in Canada, but kids didn't like those kinds of shows anymore. We know all about that, don't we, Floyd? Anyway, Loonette's marriage caved, she fell down pretty much the same bottles I have, and for the past five years she's been ping-ponging back and forth between the Twin Cities and going by the name "The Big Comfy Cooch."

Anyway, last night she said she was going to work a group job and could really use a second girl. Some big shot from out of town had a whole high rise rented out at The Foshay, throwing a real freakfest, she said. It was less than 10 minutes north of the sake bar, so all we had to do was gather together some cab fare. Between the two of us, I wasn't worried about that. She was honest with me though. She said the guy throwing the party was terrifying, but he never beats the hired girls, so there was that, at least. She said he'd eaten a woman once, but I knew she was exagerrating. I was desperate, Floyd. I know I said I'd never get back in the business again, but I knew that if I didn't get back to New York soon, I'd go crazy.

So we gave Hiro a double blowie by the fry cooker. He's such a nice guy. He wanted to shoot it on my face, but I had to pass it to Loonette. I would never get all the cum out of the felt and cotton.

We rode uptown and walked through the lobby. The doorman smiled at Loonette a bit too wide. He tried to honk her red clown nose and she batted his hand away. We got on the elevator and she grabbed my hand. She told me that if anybody asked for a "Ten-Second Silly" that I should leave it to her. I totally agreed with her.

We walked out of the elevator into a huge dark room with flashing lights and a blue glow coming from a pool in the center. A big spiral staircase went all the way up to a closed door. The room was filled with booze. Mountains of it. A huge basin of coke was sitting right near the pool and what looked like a gigantic wooly mammoth had its trunk dipped in it.

"You want some?" he asked me.

"Yes, thank you," I said.

"First you gotta name the number of the day!" he said.

"Oh," I replied. "Is it '1?'"

"Nope," he smiled. "Gotta be higher!"

"Two?" I asked.

"Noooope!" he said. "I'll give ya a hint."

He took a tremendous snort and half of what was in the basin was gone.

"It's 8!" he exclaimed. "As in 8-Ball!"

With that, he slumped forward and fell into the pool. I put his nose over along the edge, so he could breathe. I asked one of the suits what his name was and he said "Snuffleupagus," so obviously he was more blown than the fucking elephant.

Looking around the room, I couldn't believe all the Minnesota royalty they'd managed to get in there. Everyone from Ricky Rubio to the Coen Brothers to half of the Vikings. Loonette and I had a busy night ahead of us indeed.

Or so I thought.

"What are you doing here?!" I heard a shrill, all-to-familiar tone screech at my left.

I knew that Yoda-with-undescended-testicles voice anywhere.

"Piggy!" I exclaimed, moving to embrace her. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Back up, cunt rag!" she squealed pushing me back with her tits. "How the fuck do you know, moi?"

"Piggy, it's me, Janice," I said.

"Who? Janice Dickinson?" Piggy asked. "Cosby isn't here, you torn up hag!"

"No, Piggy, Janice!" I said. "You know, from the band! We've been in business together for years!"

"I don't know who you think you are, whore," Piggy said. "But you can figure it out at the bar downstairs. This party isn't big enough for two piece of Muppet trim... though I'm sure that tunnel between your legs could fit the whole Vikings defensive line!"

"Piggy! How can you talk to me this way?" I pleaded. "I'm just trying to get back to New York!"

"Can it, tramp," she said. "And beat it before I go and get..."

"Heyyyy, pork rinnnnnds," said the smoothest operator of all time, smooooothing his way in between us and facing Ms. Piggy.

"Ah... I'm... uh... it's..." she said. "It's you..."

"Say it, baby," he said. "Say my name... like I'm yours..."

"P-P-P-P-P-" she stammered. "Prince..."

"That's right, baby," Prince said. "I've been dabblin' with Islam the past few weeks, ya dig? And I got a hella cravin' for pork somethin' nassssty."

"Oh my god..." Piggy breathed, as he ran his hand up her thigh, and straight into her ham sandwich.

"Whaddaya say, Boar's Head?" he grinned. "Will you be my Christmas ham?"

"Yessss..." she breathed, as he gave her a swat on her rotund pig posterior.

"Let's make some bacon," he giggled.

He winked at me as he strode off to one of the backrooms.

"You tell, Kermie and I'll cut your fucking throat, bitch," Piggy said, pointing in my face, before hurrying off behind His Purpleness.

Dumbfounded, I decided to look for Loonette, but she was already sucking and jacking 5 dicks on the veranda and taking one from Cordarrelle Patterson in her Big Comfy Cooch. I tried to keep a low profile, but remembered I was here to work. As I moved through the party, I couldn't believe what I found sitting side by side in two recliners by the brandy.

"Look what we have here, Waldorf!" said Statler.

"What's that, Statler?" Waldor replied.

"A love glove on legs!" Statler said.

"I'll say!" Waldorf cackled. "Like sticking your dick in a fucking oven mint!"

"OooooHoHoHoHoHoHo!!!!" they both laughed.

"Are we gonna do this or not?" I asked them.

"We'd just as soon fuck each other!" Statler laughed.

"Same thing, really!" Waldorf said.

They turned to each other.

"How about it?" Statler asked.

"Why certainly! Turn around, old friend!" Waldorf agreed.

As Waldorf started fucking Statler in the ass, he attempted to turn Statler into a confusing position.

"Here, old bean!" Waldorf announced. "I learned this at Bert and Ernie's Christmas party last year!"

"I think I was banging the garbage can man!" Statler replied.

I moved on, beginning to think that maybe I should just go back to the Moto-i, go to sleep and return to the same cycle of poverty and prostitution, but suddenly, the door at the top of the spiral staircase opened wide, and a figure stood atop it, clad in only a bathrobe and a pair of boxers that looked like they cost at least $35.

All the chatter, music and fucking was silenced, as he placed a hand on the railing. The other was behind his back. At last he spoke.

"Hello, everyone!" he called down to us, his eyes wild and brows raised. "Thank you for coming!"

Everyone was completely silent, staring back at him in transfixed awe.

"Everyone enjoying themselves?" he asked, though no one replied, as if instructed to remain silent. "I certainly am. Oh yes, I am!"

"As many of you know, this is my favorite city. My favorite in all the world. It has truly become a home away from home for me as I have advanced the great crane empire across this nation's northern borders... this city has been good to me. And tonight I plan to give back... in the only way I know how...

I was becoming increasingly uneasy, as I watched him sway against the bannister, his eyes scanning the room, not yet having rested upon mine.

"As many of you also know, I have started a family back home. I have a loving wife and a child on the way. It is an exciting time in my life, filled with love and new beginnings and it seems now my heart will continue to grow...

"All the same... I have certain... interests... that many of you are aware of... and I must keep them contained... that is why I will be renting out this residence indefinitely for as long as I see fit."

There was some barely audible murmuring and much nodding about the room. At last, the man drew back his robe, and revealed a three-foot tall box behind him.

"This is more than an annual tradition," he said, as those all around me removed crude white masks from their person and placed them over their faces. "More than a custom that makes us Minneapolans...

"This is who I am," he said, pulling a long jagged dagger from within his robe and plunging it into the top of the box.

"I have gone by many names..." he said. "Over the years... some of you know me as 2 Cranez... others by Kermit..."

He removed the lid of the box and reached in for its containents.

"But tonite, I am the embodiment of my true self," he said. "My once and future form..."

He removed a small figure from the box. The figure was alive. A human. Very small. With a crudely fashioned medieval uniform and long pointy ears attached.

"No!" the little man protested. "I'm not! I'm not what you think I am!"

"Yes, you are," the figure said. "And I am who I think I am..."

In unison, the crowd said at once:

"optimusprme"

Optimus dragged his long dagger along the neck of the small man, as the crowd chanted "Death to the Night Elf." The blood spurted from the neck wound and drained down into the pool below. At last, Optimus dropped the corpse and raised his hands to the crowd.

"Drink, my fellow Minnesotans," he motioned. "Drink the blood of the Night Elves."

The whole room did as instructed and rushed forward to the pool, gulping down the misty red water. I watched them in disbelief, for much longer than I thought, when suddenly, I realized Optimus was upon me.

"Come with me," he said, grabbing my wrist tightly and dragging me up the sprial stairs, his robe flowing like a cape.

He threw me into his boudoir and slammed the door behind him.

"Please!" I begged. "I'm sorry! I didn't have a mask!"

"Shut the fuck up," he said. "Who are you? What in the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm... I'm Janice... uh... I'm with Loonette," I said.

"Who the fuck is Loonette?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Uh.... the Big Comfy Cooch?" I said.

"Oh, oh, oh," he said nodding. "Fine, but you can't stay here."

"Okay," I said.

"It's jus that-" he stopped, as his phone rang. "Excuse me, one moment."

He took out his phone and walked to the other end of the room. I thought of darting for the door, but he was so quick, I decided to remain.

"...yes... yes... ok," he said. "That's great... I'm in the middle of something.. but I'm sure my child will love a Sexy Teens onesie...... no you still can't Rafiki the baby... yup, bye."

He closed his phone and turned back to me.

"My apologies," he said. "Was there something else?"

"I don't think so," I said.

"So what the fuck is the matter?" he said. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"I just..." I began, totally ashamed, but knowing a powerful man when I see one. "I've been... kind of... stuck out here for awhile..."

"Uh huh," he said, looking to the other end of the room. "Just keep talking..."

As I told him my sordid tale, he turned on his room's desktop and started playing a game called "Shop Crane Conquistadors."

At last, I finished my tale of woe.

"Ok, so basically you need a flight back to New York?" he said.

"I... uh... yeah..." I said.

"Ok, fine, I'll arrange one for you," he said.

"Really? You will?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's really nothing," he said, continuing to play his game. "I have more frequent flyer miles than the fucking Air Force."

"Ok, but..." I began. "Why, will you help me?"

He turned on me very seriously then, suddenly turning from the game and getting very close to my face.

"Because you've seen things..." he said. "...parts of myself that must never leave this hotel..."

"But I don't even know who you are," I said.

"Precisely... no one knows who I am... and no one can... at least not outside of this building," he said. "What you saw out there, that is me. That is who I am."

I nodded, sheer terror taking me.

"I love my family, Janice," he said. "I LOVE my family. Do you have family, Janice?"

"Yes... I..." I began.

"What am I saying!?" he scoffed. "You're a fucking Muppet! You have like 300 family members!"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"That's what my family's like," he said. "There's like 300 of us. And I love every single one of them... not equally... there's a sort of chart we arranged that rates each of them on their overall contributions... but most of them I love very, very much."

"I believe you," I said.

"And they must never know what you've seen here," he said.

"I understand," I nodded.

"I'll arrange for the flight," he said. "By the time you get to St. Paul International, it'll all be taken care of and waitng for you. Get on that plane. Go back to New York. And stay the fuck out of MY CITY."

"Yes, sir," I nodded.

"Anything else?" he asked.

I hesitated. There was no reason for me to stay now, but I had to know.

"You said... out there... some know you as, Kermit," I said.

"Yes?" he shrugged.

"Well, I know a Kermit and... well, Piggy's here and..."

"She's chasing him down for alimony," he said. "That's all. It's a long story, but sometimes I check in under that name. It's no big deal, but she's made my life a living hell recently."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I know her," I said.

"Yeah, not for long," he said. "Prince and I are taking care of it."

The door on the far end of the room swung open and the steam of a kitchen swept out.

"Hey C-Note!" Prince said, stepping into the room, wearing a chef's hat. "We pullin some pork or not?"

"C-Note" looked back to me and smiled. He didn't have to say anything, but he did anyway.

"Prince pumped her full of adrenaline," he said. "She'll be alive while we eat her."

I considered telling them that she was a Muppet as well and wouldn't have any taste, but I decided this was a rare bonus I wasn't likely to get again. I dashed out of the room and down the steps. Loonette looked to me and didn't question my exit. Showing me she understood, she shoved more than 50% of Snuffleupagus' trunk inside of her Big Comfy Cooch.

              -                            -                          -

An unbelievable story, Floyd, I know. But that's the way it happened. By the time you read this, I'll already be in New York, trying to track you down. I'm overnighting it, so if you see it tomorrow afternoon, meet me at the Vanguard tonite at 10pm. Bring your bass and I'm sure they'll let us join in. Also, make sure you hang onto this letter, I've heard of a new publishing company somewhere in the city called P.E.P. that might be interested in printing it.

                                    Peace, Love and Rock n' Roll,

                                                                           Janice