I just realized I have several Bonnie Mace stories saved in my Gmail.

I want you to post them faster than you can say "I'd like to finger fuck a hick singer."

Oh God I have them somewhere too.

The one I regret not saving was the Pam Vanessa story.

My mother used to be the P.A. for Nancy Kulp back in the day when good ol Nance had the dough for a P.A. (post Parent Trap). Anyway, Nance had just gone through a very rigorous audition process in order to get the role of Ms. Jane Hathaway, on what would become the landmark televison series "The Beverly H illbilly's". She was assigned a dressing room with an actress she had never heard of named one Ms. Irene Ryan. Well, Nance and Irene got along famously from the get go, though, apparantly, Nance was apprehensive about letting Irene know about her diggin the ladies, seeing as how Irene was 86 at the time, Nance suspected she might not take to kindly to having a lady co-star who liked to shave other gals Hams.

Well, how funny was it when after a long day of shooting, Irene packed up the castor oil and bag of hair that she always had with her and left the lot for the day. Nance thought that she had free reign of the trailer for the rest of the evening and invited a delightful Nubian extra named Puma into her trailer for some dinner and some hot finger fucking !!! Well no sooner had our girl Nance gotten up to her shoulder in Puma's girl than Irene walked in, Nance told my mom that she was caught "black handed" by dear granny herself. Well, Nance was ashamed and had it not been for her damned collatta ring gett ing caught on some of Puma's internal lady skin she would have had her arm out of her in an instant. Irene just looked at the tw o of them in their "compromising position" and chuckled. You could have knocked Nance over with a feather. Apparantly, she was bright red so Irene soothed her fears and told her not to worry, she was totally cool with the fact that Nance liked to bump waffles and then proceeded to lift up her skirt and show her the tiniest pair of balls that Nance had ever seen (granted, Nance probably didn't see too many balls in her day, but still). Irene then explained that while she was all lady, she happened to have be en born with a pair of vestigal testicals right underneath her clitoris.

Ever since then Irene and Nance remained busom pals til Irene's death in 1974 and Nance never revealed her secret, except to a few close personal friends. Now that is friendship!! !

"I Just Had a Lesbian Fling With Dolly Parton."

I was recently in Taos doing research on a book that I hope to publish about Mexicans, when I was weedling away an afternoon at a local antique shop. I was looking at an old pair of leopard print pajamas that, allegedly, belonged to Sybill Jason (aka the skullery girl in "The Little Princess" 1939) when who should traipse in the door but Miss D herself. She was gorgeous, all cotton candy hair and succulent breasts. I couldn't help but fix my gaze on the bounty that was Dolly. She must have caught me staring at her because she sashayed on over in her red cowboy boots and tight Sergio Valenti's and said, "Hi, I'm Dolly!". I responded, that, of course, I knew who she was. I told her that she looked amazing for a woman of her age or any age for that matter and she said, "Well, my granny always told me that it's easier to pick cotton with your teeth than to dance a reel with Marshall McCluhan". I agreed. Dolly asked me what I was doing and I told her about the alleged Sybil Jason socks and she said that she was a huge fan of her work. We continued talking for about a half an hour when finally Dolly asked if I would like her to buy the pajamas for me. I told her that she didn't have to, but she said that it would be her pleasure and that she would love to see me try them on. At that moment, I became very excited. My girl mayo flew out of my HAM faster than you can say "I wanna finger fuck a hick singer".

After purchasing the aforementioned pajamas, Dolly and I hopped on the back of her vespa and cruised on over to her hotel, she was staying at the Sheridan Taos North Shore. As I got off the vespa and walked toward the front entrance, Dolly stopped me and informed me that due to her celebrity we would have to go in the back way, I found out not too much later exactly what she meant.

We walked to the back of the hotel by the restaurant dumpster and Dolly peeled herself out of her jeans though she kept her white sweater with the beaded photo of Fred "Rerun" Berry on the whole time. I just stood there, thinking that we were going to go in the back door, but Dolly told me that she really wanted to see my Typhoid Goldfish. So, shrugging my shoulders I pulled off my jodhpurs and showed the goods. But Dolly didn't have too much interest in my downtown lips. Rather she turned me around and started massaging my good old brown eye with her index finger and a plastic cup with the phrase "You wanna get laid? Stick yer head up a chicken's ass and wait" emblazoned across it. Well the next thing I know I am in ecstasy and Dolly is having a good time too, judging by her grunting and groaning to the tune of "Straight Talk" one of her biggest hits and a personal favorite of mine. Apparantly, I was having a little too much fun as I didn't seem to notice the stool that started sliding out of my ghetto pucker and all over Dolly's sweater. Soon, I realized I had no control over my bowels and it wasn't just because of Ms. D (the other Ms. D that is! LOL!!!), those Snackwell crumb cakes with Olestra that tasted so good the night before as I sipped on Harvey's Bristol Creme while watching a Dukes of Hazzard marathon were now coming back to haunt me. "No need to worry" Dolly informed me. "I grew up in Tennessee, where a girl knows what to do with an unexpected handful or mouthful of shit."

Boy was I relieved as Dolly proceeded to roll up her sleeves and get to work on my butthole. We spent the next two hours behind the dumpster in pure ecstasy. I found out a lot of fantastic things about Ms. D. She has never had breast implants for starters (those babies are all hers!) and unlike most woman that I have been inside of, her breasts come out of her shoulders. Also, not only does Ms. D shave the HAM, but it is also pierced with a chain hanging from which is a gorilla's fist. Apparantly, this was a present from her longime gal pal Beth Howland.

Needless to say, after I shot my Lady Load for the eighth time that afternoon. Dolly and I collapsed in a heap on top of this large glass tank that contained numerous hard boiled eggs in some sort of green fluid. I looked up at Dolly as she rested and she was so adorable lying there with Fred "Rerun" Berry peering off of her ample bosom, feces smeared all over her hands, face, neck, thighs, and back. She started to snore slightly and that was my cue to amscray. I got up, pulled out an errant soup can lid that was lodged inside of me ang got myself together and went back in to town.

I never did get back those pajamas.

I just had my first experience with Scat very recently. My longtime gal had been wanting to try it out forever so finally about a week ago. I caved, I mean after all you only live once right?

I decided that the "night" would be very special. I made a very special dinner of steak burritos, chili, and chocolate milk. And for dessert-bacon and eggs. I felt like I was training for a marathon!

Anyway after dinner we started fooling around. After a while of that my gal, Beatrice, started probing my "brown eye" as she called it with her thumb. Now mind you my gal Beatrice is not tiny she looks a lot like Shirley Hemphill but with the elegance and class of Jackie O. Anyway her thumb is going further and further up my poop shoot and still I feel nothing. This goes on for a good ten minutes (though it felt like hours) but nothing is coming out. Beatrice then stuck not one, not two, not three, but four supposotories up there. But still...no go. I told her that coffee enemas were supposed to work good. Well we didn't have an enema tube so she just started sucking up sanka with a bendy straw and squirting it in my whole. After another twenty minutes without any numero due in sight. We gave up.

I could see how heartbroken she was so I agreed to let her be the crapper (since it was my first time I was supposed to just be the crapper and she the crappee.) so she went at it with gusto. She let out about three juicy logs on my ninnies. But the best(?) was yet to come, all of the sudden this stream of poop came flying out of her squinty and it came out fast! It was kind of like the Trevi Fountain except it was like the Trevi Fountain if dookee came out and not water. Well, there was SOME water, but not a lot. My God I don't know how it happened but a half eaten cinnamon donut came out of there. It was truly a horn of plenty of non digestable viddles.

Anyhoo, we played around for an hour and then through the sheets in the oven to dry them off before throwing them in the trash. All in all not a bad experience, but not something that I would want to do everyday. Special occassions? Maybe.

t all started quite innocently in February when I got fired from the Golden Nugget due to "lewd and lacivious" behavior! Sapphic maybe but never Lacivious! LOL!!! Anyway, I was caught trying to find my way through the pubic diaper of Carla, the gal who stirs the pancake batter, after hours. When Charnelle, my bitch of a manager, found me face first in Carla's brown lady pucker on top of the grill, I tried to play it off, but Carla being an amputee and all wasn't nearly as wiley and didn't catch on to the game. She shrieked something in her muffled Spanglais about needing help with a turtle head that was peaking out and that pretty much was that. THANKS A LOT CRUEL WORLD!!! Who woulda thunk that the ass munching incident with the Mexican amputee would prove to be the best thing that ever happened to me. As my grandma Perdita Mace always said, "An ounce of ketchup in your lady Ham can be of service at the strangest hour". How right she was.

Well when I got back to the studio that I share with Beatrice (my lady love) I found her in the sack, now mind you I don't mind the occasional walk about with another lady or two...or three (LOL!!!) myself, but Beatrice had her 350lb Nubian body wrapped around a fella! I'm sorry but I have some rules about these things, call me ethical, call me a prude, call me a dyke (LOL!!!) but I don't want any Man Stalk inside of my gals Lady Envelope.

I went into a rage, the likes of which haven't been seen this side of Mister Ike Turner. I picked up the fella and threw him off the waterbed and he fell into the racoon skin beanbag chair. I told him to get out of my home at once. He protested that he was homeless, at least that's what I thought I gathered was coming out of his toothless mouth in between showers of white foam and small, hard cloglets of blood. He proceeded to crawl across the room, his atrophied legs sliding around like blind ferrets as he tried to grasp at the set of mis-matched crutches that were lying on top of my broken bidet (Apparantly he had spinabiffida, but at that moment, I didn't give a rat's ass if he was Chris Burke himself-whom I have had the pleasure of digitally penetrating in a dumpster behind 7-11-for such a rage I was in). I proceeded to kick his naked scab covered body til he was unconscious (it didn't take nearly as long as you would think, I guess it helps when the person you are kicking the shit out of has a massive seizure LOL!!!) and then threw him, his crutches and his overalls out into the middle of the street in front of our building (God I hope that drivers were paying attention LOL!!!).

When I came back in and washed the blood and Geri Curl off of my hands. I found Beatrice sobbing in the nude in our popazon as she nibbled on rib tips. I just stared at her beautiful body convulsing, which made the rolls on her stomach and back bob up and down like the fluid in a lava lamp. I got onto the popazon next to her and wrapped my arms around her waste, how could I not love this lady, equal parts Nell Carter and Audrey Hepburn. As I brushed away her tears my hand glided across her brown pita, it was at that moment that we fell back in love as I stated to her teasingly, "Looks like someone's got a scorching yeast infection." Beatrice giggled and replied, "I know, if that hobo manages to survive that beating you gave him his mouth is going to be in for quite a time!"

As I looked into her left eye and the red cavity where her right eye should've been, I realized what a hypocrite I had been. Here I was beating the shit out of a hobo to the point where his chances of survival were slim to none and yet I...yes I, Bonnie Mace, had just been fired for eating the furry ass of a Mexican amputee. Who was I to judge really? Is having a man inside of you that much worse than sticking your tongue inside of a lice infected Mexican ass, just because the ass happens to be that of a lady? NO. And there lies the moral of the story, sex is sex and it is not our place to judge who we choose to lie with, be it a homeless paraplegic, a Mexican amputee or shards of broken glass. As Jesus said, "Judge not lest ye be judged". And as Granma Perdita Mace said, "If you can fit five fingers inside shame on you, if you can fit seven fingers inside shame on me." May we all learn from my little lesson to tolerate each others sexual proviclivities a little bit more. God Bless.

Well you could have knocked me over with a shovel the day I found out that I had a baby inside my uterus. I really didn't expect it at all. Beatrice and I had just downed a 3 big pitchers of T&T's our favorite beverage while watching Judge Mills Lane (man is that man hot, I pray for the day when I can be up to my elbow in his dookie pussy) T&T's of course are a lovely concoction of Tanqueray and Tang. So Beatrice and I get a little bit horny watching Mills decide just who is Shwafana's baby daddy and the next thing I know Beatrice's hand is down in my maroon courdoroy gauchos going to town on my septic bristles and I start dripping gal oil like nobody's biz!

We're just about to go at it when Beatrice says "Hold the phone" which confused me briefly as "the Phone" is our nickname for Beatrice's enlarged clitoris (it's HUGE!!! The thing is almost as big as Dirk Diggler's Henry) before I realize that she just means hold on a sec. Crafty Beatrice went into our kitchenette and started making Green Lanterns (our all time favorite drink!) with a twist! Not only were there the usual ingredients Creme De Menthe, Gin, and Scope, but she also added as a little pick me up some Charlie perfume that she stole from the Dollar Store down the street. It was like god in my mouth!

Anyway, we were really horny after six or so glasses of these babies (and so drunk that we occasionally involuntarily vomited on the terazzo tile, just bits and pieces, ya know? Thank God Flan doesn't stain!! LOL!) Beatrice came up with an idea in between finger fucking my ghetto pucker and wiping up the blood and vomit trickles on the floor. Inspired perhaps by Shwanafa and her baby she decided it was time for us to have a baby. In between moments of nausea and eyes rolling back in my skull, I agree. After all I wasn't getting any younger and we both felt that we could really make a house a home for our spawn that came from inside of me.

Well in spite of her gigantic clitoris, Beatrice didn't have any fella juice coming out of her, so we had to find a surrogate. What better time than 2:30 am on a Tuesday! Since we live so close to the interstate a potential sire didn't seem to be too much of an obstacle. Having made our way underneath the interstate to check out the 'STALLIONS' we made our selection. His name Clauderoy or at least that's what I think he said in between seizures. LOL!!! He only weighed about 90lbs and he had more absecess on his body than you could shake a stick at, but there was something sweet about him, the way he mumbled and always apologized after he went number two all over himself over and over again. Beatrice (who is strong like bull LOL!!! We were doing Native American impressions all night! Clauderoy really seemed to enjoy them) picked up his feet and dragged him down a gravel road. He really seemed to appreciate our interest in his wellfare, it was that kind of sweetness that really made me decide that he should be the man inside of me.

Beatrice, being the "doer" that she is took the tire iron that she kept in our "special toys for special occasions" drawer and proceeded to beat the living shit out of Clauderoy. He was covered in blood and bruises in no time as that tire iron is hard (I should know, I've had it inside of my quadraplegic squirrel more than once! LOL!!!). Then it was time to get to work. We went inside of a big cardboard box that used to house a television (now housing my immaculate conception LOL!!!) set and Beatrice began massaging Clauderoy's Troy while I waited porkchop damp with anticipation (and the two slabs of French bread surrounding it! LOL!!!) Finally, he was "erect" at four inches barely, he was less than an eighth the size of good ol Beatrice's telephone!

Beatrice then proceeded to sit on his waist and lie back sliding Clauderoy's shrump between her lady envelope. It was amazing, it looked like my lady love had a penis, well, actually two penises one just a hell of a lot bigger than the other. I went to work and in no time Beatrice/Clauderoy had unleashed his rabies foam up in tweeterville. It was an amazing moment, I just new the seed had been planted! And was I ever right! Two days later after some problems with the home pregnancy test (alright who wouldn't get a little horny when you have to pee on a stick?) The test came back positive! It was the best day of Beatrice and my life!!! And damn did we celebrate! We had a huge bash at our place (well as big of a bash as you can have in a halfway house! LOL!!!) I hadn't snorted crank or been in a K hole since college, but who knows when the next time I was going to be pregnant. As George Jefferson once said "C'est La Vie!"

Things have been going really well, I am now four months along. Other than one minor fight that led to a botched abortion attempt (Thank God I didn't go to a real clinic or little Aubrey and Leroy wouldn't be around right now!) which means that I won't ever be able to have children again and I haven't stopped "spotting" in months! Things are great, we went and got an ultra sound last Tuesday, that's when we found out we were having twin boys and other than an arm floating around aimlessly in my womb (which one's it is I guess we'll find out in the delivery room! LOL!!!) and Beatrice and I have never been happier. I am finally going to be able to know what the gift of life is! How excited am I?

Back in 1989 I was at a Women's Tennis Event in D.C. working as a volunteer. I essentially just refilled the water cups for the players on the court.

Martina Navratilova was playing that event, and though I had never been sexually attracted to her before, I have to say that in person, she is mesmerizing. Kind of like Nancy Kulp meets Kiki Dee. Anyway, I was filling up Pam Shriver's water when she asked me if I could run into the locker room and get her Movado watch that was lying on a towel on a bench next to her locker. So I ran in there, feeling a little bit funny in my downtown lips at the opportunity to see "backstage" of the Women's tennis tour. And let me tell you right now, it didn't disappoint, as I walked in there was Chris Evert doing lunges in the buff. The only thing I can say is that it looked like she was hiding a bear cub down there. I was just about to suggest that she take some Nair to her whisker biscuit when out of the shower she came. Yes Martina Navratilova!! Wow, I had never felt so funny down in my grey clam in my life. She had a great rack, maybe a 34 C but the best was her porkchop sandwich. She had trimmed it ever so fine and it was actually in the pattern of a rooster!

Martina could tell I was checking out her goods, and she winked at me and pulled at a little string hanging from her nice piece of hair pie. She then said to me, "Do you want to earn your red wings?". Not knowing exactly what she meant but willing to do anything to be closer to this icon I nodded in agreement.

Well, the next thing you know I found out exactly what she meant, Martina's girl was bleeding like the Serenghetti and my face was slopping it up like Hattie McDaniel at an all you can eat jumbo fried shrimp buffet. I earned my red wings all right, the sides of my mouth to my cheeks were crimson with her rotted girl eggs.

[quote]Well you could have knocked me over with a shovel the day I found out that I had a baby inside my uterus. I really didn't expect it at all.

In a NYRB piece about Mace's contributions to literature, this was likened to the opening of "A Tale of Two Cities."

"Rotted girl eggs."

Thank you, OP. I adore Bonnie Mace. Back in the day, there was a rumor that it was Amy Sedaris.

Lady ham bump

So nice to read on a cold winter's night!

Bumping this is my last post on Datalounge. You all are proof positive that sometimes the cliichés are true: good scenes are ephemeral, and there really is no going back if you want to grow old gracefully.

Enjoy what's left of the girl mayo.

Ciao.