A Lick of Sense, by Amelia

When asked about personal grooming,
A wise person once said:

"Shoot for the butthole;
Even if you miss, you'll land among the fuzzy nipples."

However, this wise person lacked longevity, as he soon thereafter died horribly from deep face lacerations of unknown origin.

Let that be a lesson to anyone who thinks fuzzy kitty nips are "cute, "adorable," and "fun to play with."

That is all.

Just When You Thought Your Anus Was Safe...

Things have been quiet around here.
Too quiet.

Well guess what, non-believers?
Guess what you ass-knobs who say, "goodness, they're back!"
This is what I have to say to you:

DeeDee & Irma never WENT AWAY!

When you find things getting a little too quiet on our front, that's when you gotta worry the most! Because, like the quiet before the storm, this long silence is only a harbinger of fabulous, glittery, gin-soaked brilliance never before seen by human eyes!

Lady Gaga, hold on to your wigs; Rhianna, start bejeweling the fuck out of those spandex; Adele...you're okay, I like you're false eyelashes.

Get. Ready.
That's all I'm gonna say.

Oh, except for this:
When one "Googles" "DeeDee and Irma" (and don't pretend like you're above doin' it), here are some of the things that come up under "Images" (I guess I should be thankful that the first photo is, indeed, a legit pic of us):

This is us, doing what we do: putting on a hell of a show, entertaining the masses, and doin' it in sexy-cool style.

This is not Irma.
And I do not care to find her, thank you very much.

This is definitely not Irma. Or DeeDee.

These look delicious, but in no way represent the firm of Madison Esq.
&
Bumstead-Winterbottom.

No.

Like a Fat Kid Loves Cake

Oh friends, what a long and crazy road it has been!

As Irmsies said before, we have been busy little bees in the past year, spreading our vitriol and tangy gangsta love all over the US of A. There have been other changes: Irma and I are no longer in the same city. Yes, it is true--a distance of approximately 200 sucky miles now separates the Deedster from her bestie. I am currently holed away in Wisconsin. What for, you may ask? Well, reader, choose the option that best tickles your fancy: A. rehab B. returning to school C. various black market endeavors. I miss my little Irma so badly it makes me pee my pants a little sometimes. Or perhaps I am just becoming incontinent. Either way, I am saddened.

Rest assured, my chickadees, that the bond DeeDee and Irma share cannot be broken by mere distance! We shall continue to perform and perform FABULOUSLY! And for you doubters out there: I extend to you an invitation to go fuck yourself.

Thank you, and good night!
DeeDee Madison, esq.

Were there ever two foxier ladies? Sources say no, beeyotch!

Cats and Glitter

To all of our friends, lovers, haters, enemies, families, fans and anyone else who keeps it real and is cool enough to mix booze with children's cold syrups:

It is indeed true that over a year has passed since DeeDee & I have graced you all with our musings (or "blogging" as you kids call it these days). This typically just translates to DeeDee and I sharing the more mundane and possibly graphic details of our daily lives (i.e. back exfoliation, latest prison hooch recipes, Irma's current wedding and/or separation plans husband, et. al.).

I apologize profusely for this inexcusable absence. A good deal of this time spent in comunicado with you dear readers was spent unconscious and sans pants...but I digress. The point here is that there will be plenty of time to tell you all about that because Dee and 'ole Irms are back and exploding with glitter and excitement over past and future schemes to take over the world, one glass of gin at a time...

DeeDee and Irma backstage at the Jim Thorpe Burlesque Festival, ready to perform to Clay Aiken's timeless classic love song, "Invisible."

I should mention our most recent triumphs:

Venturing to Jim Thorpe, PA for their first-annual Burlesque Festival!
Here's what I love about Jim Thorpe, PA:
--The people, especially cute older ladies running cute little shops, were so adorable I wanted to pinch all of their wrinkly little cheeks!
--A local wine shop where the proprietor was kind enough (nay, even encouraged us) to let us sample every type of wine (even more than once, just to make sure it was just what we were looking for, you understand) before our final purchases...which were plentiful.
--How much Jim Thorpe, PA loves glitter and boobs. Who knew?

Chicago's First Annual Windy City Burlesque Fest!
--I loved this because it was in my own damn back yard and performers from around the country, Canada, and even the UK packed up and made the trip to party with us, Chicago-style. Very proud of all the Chicago burlesquers and lovely to see some familiar faces from other festivals as well.

DeeDee and Irma performing "Gangsta Gangsta" at the Windy City Burlesque Festival.

Ok, wieners. It's past Irma's bedtime and mama has to rise and shine early in the AM to make some kibble $$$ to feed her pussy cats. I've got two mouths to feed now, you know.

Smell ya later,Irms

My babies, Lady Amelia Bumstead-Winterbottom and Ms. Polly Pickles. They love each other.

Dee Dee and Irma's First Single

Here's our first single, cockbags. Brought to you by daku mata studios and our Magnificent Bastard, Morey.

Enjoy!

Click here, assface.

Sweet Baby Jesus, It's December Already??

Hello to all of our dear cyber-readers:

Many apologies for DeeDee and I being MIA for a little while. You see, it was just recently Ms. Madison's birthday, which basically means that Ms. "Birthday Princess" Madison and I have been on a virtually non-stop birthday bender for the past, oh, week and a half or so.

I myself can only recall mere snippets of memory from this most recent of our alcoholic endeavors (i.e. eating my weight in late-night bean burritos, getting several phone numbers from the bar staff of the various alcohol-serving establishments that we patronized, and chasing a half-naked and fully drunk DeeDee through the Lincoln Park zoo (I couldn't tell ya how that came about even if I wanted to).

I have nearly fully recovered from our adventures; however, poor DeeDee has caught a cold of some sort, on top of still being slightly drunk. But not to fear: it's nothin' a little jail hooch, 'Tussin, and Irma-style TLC won't fix! So, until our household is fully restored to health and sobriety, I will bid you ado and god bless.

All My Love,
Irma B-W


A candid photo of DeeDee and I on "Day 4" of her Birthday Bender Spectacular. We look like such angels when we're sleeping/inebriated beyond consciousness.

Happy Turkey Day, ya bastards (even you vegetarian ones)!!

Greetings on this fine autumn day where we gather with family and friends, glut ourselves on a giant bird with bread stuffed up its ass, and then spend some quality time together by going into deep, deep food comas--all in the name of giving thanks to our pilgrim ancestors who braved life and limb to come to this great nation, where they proceeded to steal the land and resources from its native peoples, giving them small pox in return as a special thank you.

Well, not this broad! Irma Bumstead-Winterbottom is not down with celebrating such patriotic douchebaggery and giving in to the Hallmark Greeting Card mindwashing that gets everyone in such a tizzy about cute turkey paper plates and matching napkins, or greeting cards featuring adorable indians and pilgrims hugging and sharing some pumpkin pie. No sir!

Let me tell you what makes a good Thanksgiving: Sleeping in, watching the local Thanksgiving Day Parade on your tv (no need to go out into the cold to see that shit, especially nowadays when they usually don't even throw any candy, cheap bastards), brushing your pussies, vacuuming your rugs, and eating spicy macaroni turkey helper with a glass of some sort of boxed wine varietal whilst sitting on your couch in your sweat pants. Oh, and there was probably some gin involved somewhere in there, between the vacuuming and the cooking of the Helper meal.

I will admit that I wish DeeDee was here to share this Helper feast with me, but alas, she had to go and meet the family of her betrothed...I still can't remember his name, but he likes gin and juice so he's alright in my book.

Well, enjoy the rest of your food comas, ya bastards, and I'll be here when you wake up and find yourselves bloated and constipated and remorseful for eating that extra slice of pumpkin pie loaded with real whipped cream, even though you know you're lactose intolerant and now will be shitting through a screen for the next several hours.

Enjoy the rest of your holiday before the heart burn sets in,
xoxo,
Irma Bumstead Winterbottom,
along with Amelia Bumstead-Winterbottom & Maya Madison, Jr. Esq.