Hookers & High-Fructose!

Dear Blob!
It was an exciting weekend in The Ukulady’s UkulUniverse! Not only was it a Magical Slumber Party weekend at Chez Ukulady, with 3 delightful ally/pals, pallies, filling the house with Unicorn Hearts, but I was also mistaken for a Woman of The Night!
Clad in a vintage cotton-candy pink sateen gown, knee-high pink Fluevogs and blue tights, I, my Gexan (Gay Texan) and my Pirate Cheerleader High Priestess, (PCHP ((Not a drug or highway)) sheathed in orange muppet-fur, an orange baby-doll shift and knee-high army boots, were strolling down Western Ave, a seedy fast-food-shack strewn Los Angeles boulevard. It was midnight and we were headed from a Drunken Spelling Bee/Beer Chug to the car, when a man and his son, who appeared to be between 5 – 7 yrs old, approached. As they passed my trio, the boy accusingly squealed, “Hookers!”
Then, seat-buckled in the car, we drove past a taco truck and saw the man and boy, sodas in hand, strolling back from whence they came. While it was exciting to be mistaken for a street whore, I felt concern and sadness for the young city child, who, at midnight, was not tucked into bed, but walked the street-whore streets, drinking a high-fructose addiction-forming beverage, and at such a tender age, possessed hooker-awareness.
My Gexan has a diet Coke habit and needed a midnight thirst-quencher, so we stopped at the Echo Park 711, where we saw a teen mother feeding her baby Slurpee. Again, regret for a soda-drinking youngster surfaced, and I remembered why I think ET’s are totally uninterested in planet Earth. How pathetically unevolved we are.
In other news, if I owned a bakery it would be called Puffy Puffy Yum Yum and I would rename every baked good the Butter Cream Fat Pouch.
Love The UkuLady