This contest is called "Open Your Whore Mouth," and all you have to do is answer her probing questions to win a book or a world famous Aunt Becky happy ending massage at the hotel of your choosing or something like that. You'll have to visit her for the details, as I pay little attention to fine print.
Now, I must admit that I felt like I should be given a less generic interview by my former virtual lady love, and my feelings were hurt so badly that I was going to ignore this little contest of hers in protest. "Take that, Auntie! Your blog will never survive without my genius comments!!!" Then, after much inner struggle, I chose to take the high road and forgive her just a little and play along. Must be the joyful holiday spirit that's coursing through my Grinch-green veins.
Or maybe I figured I could use this contest as a quick, easy post to let you know that I haven't taken up residence in the mental institution (I wish) or run off with some dude dressed as an elf (I really wish). No, nothing that exciting. I'm still spinning my wheels here in reality and will take up residence in Blogtown again if I live to see the end of this week. So, this is more for me than you, Auntie. Plus, everyone knows I've got a major whore mouth, and a whore mouth is a terrible thing to waste...
Aunt Meaner asked everyone in the world:
1) Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream?
We call them jimmies here in Assachusetts (or maybe that's just Podunkian), and no, I don't like them on my ice cream. In fact, I don't like ice cream all that much. Frozen yogurt for me.
2) If you had to choose one word to banish from the English language, what would it be and why?
V-A-G-I-N-A. Hate that fucking word. Love my vagina, spend lots of time with it, but I hate that word. Not sure why it drives me so crazy, but it always has. I much prefer puss; although, pooter makes me so happy that I call my little Stella "Pooter." I also call her "Tuna," but I think "Pooter" is an incredibly endearing name for a dog. Don't you?
3) If you were a flavor, what would it be?
"If" I were a flavor? I'm pretty sure if you took a bite outta me on any given day, I'd taste like garlic and red wine. Those are flavors, no?
4) What’s the most pointless annoying chore you can think of that you do on a daily/weekly basis?
Is there really anything more pointless than vacuuming when you've got three hairy-assed dogs (two of which are nothing but fur), two pussy cats and two dirty boys running around?
Laundry is way more annoying, but I guess there is a point to it if you're not a full-time nudist or if you don't want to stink. I may be a streaker, but I'm no nudist, and I don't like to stink of anything other than garlic, red wine and horny elves.
5) Of all the nicknames I’ve ever had in my life, Aunt Becky is the most widely known and probably my favorite. What’s your favorite nickname? (for yourself)
Nobody has ever really called me by a nickname, at least not to my face. Unless "Witch" or "Bitch" count, but I'm pretty sure the people who call me that call every chick that.
Lucky for us, I give myself all kinds of nicknames. Lola was my "stripper" name and became my blog name. Most of you know I like to call myself Lola Ebola, which is quite fabulous, but I think my favorite is Skanky McFuckface. Every single time I lovingly refer to myself that way, it brings a huge smile to my skanky mcfuckface.
6) You’re stuck on a desert island with the collective works of 5 (and only five) musical artists for the rest of your life. Who are they?
This question blows, for obvious reasons, but I'll give it a go: Bowie (large body of work, and I never get sick of that skinny body of his); Chili Peppers (girl's gotta dance if she's stranded); Nina Simone (for when I'm sad that I'm stuck on a fucking island); Seether (for when I'm angry that I'm stuck on a fucking island); Concrete Blonde Garbage (because I couldn't survive without them. Yeah, I know, that's two incredible bands made into one by yours truly, but since Becky only listens to queer pop music, she'll never know.)
7) Everything is better with bacon. True or false?
Of course that's false. Greasy swine does not improve wine or weed -- err -- I mean chocolate.
8 ) If I could go back in time and tell Young Aunt Becky one thing, it would be that out of chaos, order will emerge. Also: tutus go with everything. What would you tell young self?
I would say, "Young, sweet Lola, do not start smoking at 12, because you will grow up to be rather short. Also, there is no such thing as perfect, so get the fuck over yourself and have fun. Oh, and never fall in love with someone named Aunt Becky, because all you'll get is a 'framed needlepoint' to hang on your blog, just like everyone else!"

Now, where's my happy ending?
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