Life can be a bitch at times. So let's 
get our bibs and tuckers on and take a well deserved vacation to some place lovely and enchanting. Before heading for the door though Grandma Lemerde cannot stress enough the need to take along a favorite laxative. Traveling of any sorts is stressful and throws the body completely out of whack. The end result is constipation which ain't no fun at all. Even if the trip is no more than a mid afternoon excursion to your friendly neighborhood funeral parlor to visit a dear departed loved one.
Grandma Lemerde remembers when her dear friend, Stanley passed away - having to make all the arrangements and in haste forgetting to take her favorite laxative.
Decisions and more decisions. Along 
with all that bloat and gas. How poor old Grandma got through it all is a miracle.
First, the undertaker showed Grandma Lemerde a casket identical to the one FDR was laid out in. Then, another similar to Eva Peron’s which was water proof. Such crap. Such hype. Such Tommy-rot! Poor old Stanley wouldn’t have cared if the damned thing was water proof or not. But he would have felt horribly disappointed if it wasn’t 90 proof at least.
Take it from Grandma nothing beats aged in wood. Whether it’s a bottle of Jack Daniels or the dear departed Stanley drunk on embalming fluid never looking lovelier stretched out in a genuine mahogany full couch jobby complete with a Sacred Heart Of Mary embroidered in the lid.
Now Grandma Lemerde doesn’t want all you readers 
thinking for one moment she spends all her spare time at funeral homes. No not at all. There are other festive spots one can visit, and on a shoe string budget too.
Rest areas; or the Ruth Anne’s chain (as us older girls call them) are a good value - offering a little something for everybody. Whether it’s snack or a meal to a waltz around a toilet you’re sure to find it here. The wonder of it all doesn’t stop there either.
I have met some truly remarkable trash at the Ruth Anne’s chain. Most of these girls are such tacky bitches it’s like we’ve known each other all our lives. (Well, we haven’t.) But take it from Grandma there’s no time like the present to get acquainted in a hurry.
Now Grandpaw Lemerde cannot understand 
how strangers can get to be such good friends from sucking each other off in a public toilet. Grandpaw thinks we’re all nuts when in reality he’s the one who is crazy. And what poor, forlorn me has to contend with for having to live with such a disgusting old fossil all these years is just plain pitiful.
Why Grandpaw is such a fucking old mess and spoils all of Grandma's fun. When Grandma Lemerde wants to go out and make merry all Grandpaw wants to do is sit on his bed pan. After thirty years of marriage, numerous hemorrhoid operations, hip replacement surgery, a pace maker, and a portable iron lung it seems like Grandpaw can do better than that. Well, Grandpaw can’t! In the meanwhile poor old Grandma's ass gets tired while Grandpaw waits from here to entity for shit to happen.
Now don’t get Grandma wrong. Not that 
she's opposed to sitting on the throne for long stretches of time. But if you’re gonna take a shit you should do it right. Like in a public john, dressed for success while engaging in glory hole sex with an anonymous partner naturally.
For the more adventuresome queen, seeking out the numerous pleasure spas along the interstates (in search of hot truckers) is one avenue worth exploring. It’s not for the faint at heart though - and there are a few hard and fast ground rules. In short: what worked elsewhere doesn’t necessarily cut it here. That tired cliché, “say, do you have change for a three dollar bill?” might have done the trick while checking out the toilets at a favorite shopping mall. But it certainly is in bad taste to deliberately act that nelly in a place of this caliber and expect to get laid.
Discretion is everything. Being 
creative is a plus. Grandma Lemerde uses a camouflage technique herself which allows her to blend into the wood work while still getting her message across to all those lovely adonises in dire need of servicing.
Now, if you’ve got the bucks nothing beats an honest-to-goodness festive trip to sunny Florida. Especially during the winter months. It certainly beats staying up North and freezing your balls off - staggering knee deep in snow just to check out the toilets at a few choice, out-of-the-way rest areas.
What we girls don’t put ourselves 
through. Well, Grandma Lemerde certainly doesn’t need that shit in her life. So Florida here I come!!!!!!
Of course, a trip wouldn’t be a trip without taking along a handful of tacky sisters. And Grandma, certainly not wanting to break with tradition decided to make it all the merrier with some of her favorite trash. Needless to say the lovely Lady Splashie made the list. Grandma also took along that adorable, abominable, annoying Miss Brian Baseballboi plus her fatazz lover, Jersey Jim (which was more out of charity) in addition to anything else thumbing along the way with a big dick. Not that Grandma has anything against small dicks. But this was supposed to be a fun vacation.
It was unanimous after getting there 
we’d stay with the lovely Lady Splashie’s former lover, the fabulous FLAMark who lives just outside of Bradenton. FlaMarkie, rumored to be a millionaire several times over certainly doesn't live like one.
What a mistake going there. Why the place was a mosquito infested hell hole. No indoor plumbing either. Much to her dismay poor old Grandma found herself driving a mile or more to a near-by filling station at all hours just to take a dump. The youngins (wanting to rough it up) simply did it in the creek and wiped their behinds with palm leaves.
Such a spectacle. Especially when that two ton (I 
don’t want her you can have her) Jersey Jim displayed his fat ass while letting a big one go “ker plunk.” Nasty, nasty. Why it was worse than animals. If Grandma Lemerde never sees that God awful sight again it will be ever to much too soon. Truly!
Another thing: Grandma didn’t get a decent night’s sleep all the time we were at FlaMark’s. All the continuous fucking and sucking, screeching, shrieking, howling, and caterwauling. It was enough to wake the dead. Not that Grandma has anything against copulating. In her day queens stuck to the rules though. After 10PM sound effects were a no, no. That was the law. Grandma Lemerde remembers the first time she got laid. So as not to offend anyone that might be eavesdropping with embarrassing sex commotion we had the decency to throw on some Guy Lombardo jams.
Enough of that. On to something else.
Just as it seemed like the situation couldn’t get any worse the lovely Lady Splashie got it into her scatterbrained head that maybe if Grandma did a little sight seeing she wouldn’t be so cranky. A change of scenery might be just what the doctor ordered. Perhaps a friendly game of strip mahjongg at the local senior citizens center. Or better yet something festive like a drag show at beautiful, breathtaking Club Bradenton.
Strip Mahjongg!!!!!!!! Grandma Lemerde’s French 
asshole. That’s where this old bitch draws the line. The mere idea of sitting around with a bunch of tacky, tired, blue-haired, over-the-hill, has-been society queens (and in the nude nevertheless) is not only nauseating and repugnant but cookie tossing words too. Hell, a body could get more satisfaction out of beating off to J. C. Penney underwear ads. And that’s putting it mildly.
Now, taking in a drag show did hold some appeal. Being an old glamour puss herself Grandma Lemerde can identify with the art form. However, forewarned is to be forearmed. And lo and behold that overrated, absolutely awful, infinitesimal when it comes to talent (but big around the borders anyway) AndyRos just happened to be on the playbill. Pitiful. Pitiful. Poor old Grandma was absolutely mortified after feasting her eyes on that mess. Why it’s a wonder that bloated beached whale blimpo didn’t start an earthquake every time she shimmed and shook that ugly, elephantine ass of her’s.
Enough is enough. Grandma having her 
fill of such trashy goings on decided it was time to pack her bags and head for home. And none too soon either. Had poor old Grandma Lemerde stayed in Florida any longer she would have surely lost her mind.
On a more positive note - back home, safe and sane on the Jersey shore: Grandma, a firm believer even the most ghastly events serve a purpose, (a learning experience of sorts) thinks in the future she’ll restrict her sojourns to funeral homes and rest areas. Less hazardous you know. Besides it’s the little things in life that count . That is as long as what we’re talking about isn’t a two inch pecker.
Believe it or not Grandma Lemerde actually got stuck with one of those thingies once. Ewww. What in the hell can anyone possibly do with a minuscule weenie is beyond me. But that’s another story. Something you’re all dying to read about. Something Grandma will save for another installment. So stay tuned for more.
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