Amanda Gulledge's Open Salon Blog

Lick my click

Sat, 4 Sep 2010 18:09:56 -0400

bend me over

pull my hair

open my salon

How to fry peaches

Tue, 17 Aug 2010 23:08:30 -0400

I was able to meet the designer behind the famous label Peachy Couture. I didn't just get to meet her, I was almost murdered by her. I went from homeless woman to celebrity victim in less time than it takes someone to slide down from a Jet plane. Some teased she was a crazy fruit. She was a mysterious hermit and I feel almost honored to have been her monthly muse.

The morning we met she called me her pet peach while stroking my homeless hair - kneeling in my homeless alley. I couldn't believe I was being asked to model for her Peach Couture collection. When I, of course, stuttered a desperate "yes," she snatched my arm.

She was mean and snappy because well, she owned me. She promised me glorious rewards for my good pet behavior. She was sick. She found me just this breakfast and was already serving poison for dessert. The smell of my fear and submissiveness made her peach sundae cream. It had only been an hour and I had already played ear to her auditory masturbation.

Where's that hideous dress thing from - Walmart? she snarled. Target's rear-door trash can, I whispered looking down at the stained hem of my white, over-sized dress. I looked like a homeless ghost in high heels.

I followed her to her office; she barely said a word. I didn't know she planned on killing me. When five o'clock rolled around, she lifted Prada heels from a mahogany desk and stood from her 19th century, executive Yves Saint Laurent chair. Resting her arms on her desk, she scribbled a lunch order on a sticky note and stuck it on my forehead. Grinning madly, she mentioned how cold my trip to the deli would be and that I should wear a warm coat.

She knew I didn't own a coat. Oh, silly me! Here, wear mine... it's my label. Reluctantly I allowed her to help me into the peach-scented leather. After tying its belt snugly around my starving waist she smiled and whispered, you can keep it.

Seriously? I questioned, thinking how much I could get for selling it on the street. Yes, Seriously; now tell me how it makes you feel, she purred grasping a cup of coffee so intensely her knuckles grew white. It makes me feel beautiful and warm I admitted, growing nervous and unsure of her intentions. My empty stomach wept as she salivated over her perverse, full plate of food.

I later discovered I was the second girl tortured by Peaches but the only one to survive. Reports say that this time last year she was seen in an alley. The media chalked it up to her strange, designer ways. They gossiped about how other designers have odd ways to become inspired and failed to see the heinous crime.

They know they were right and wrong. They may not have figured out she was a murderer, but they had her motivation correct. She used the murder as a psychotic portal of inspiration. The next morning with still bloodied crust on tips she let her fingers walk and created a smash perfume.

She called it:

La' toilet a' De Peachy.

I guess I was the homeless, pretty girl next picked to inspire. It was my month and I thought myself to be the luckiest unlucky person in the world that morning. She could have just told me what to do but she handed me a note and sent me back to my alley way.

I read the note hunched and hungry in the corner:

To: my homeless muse

Details:

Come back to me at midnight.

Bring a peach; I might let you eat it

I had to do it. I hadn't had a whole fruit in months. I slept until it was almost midnight and in my usual white, over sized gown and heels I started walking to my now master's building.

I stole a peach from a street side vendor and noticed I was being followed by a man, with a camera. Perhaps he thought I was on my way to a modeling shoot. Perhaps I thought I was too. He was good at slinking behind bushes and getting silent pictures. I was so hungry I forgot about him.

In such a daze and with such blisters, I nearly passed out when she suddenly appeared outside the building. She held a gun at me and roared with inspiration.

Just then the clouds boomed and it rained a forceful fury of water. She was stunned long enough for my camera man lurker to kick the gun out of her hand... all while snapping what we soon discovered were incredible photographs.

Two especially...

1.The picture that made me rich.

His lens caught my white gown becoming drenched and invisible with every raindrop. It was sensual and artistic. It looked even better that I was in vintage, thrown away heels. I held my homeless chin up and could see him out of the corner of my eye. We connected like true artists.

It was such a stunning shot and story that Sophia Coppola bought the rights, making us instantly wealthy. I donated several of my millions to help homeless women.

2.The picture of Peaches pointing the gun and attempting to murder someone.

All in all they have found five homeless girls murdered by Peaches. She was sentenced to the electric chair.

That's how to fry peaches.

Cell Block Disney

Mon, 26 Jul 2010 12:07:41 -0400

Death Row Transcripts: Mrs. Charming

First of all, I'm innocent. For years I suffered abuse at the hands of one evil stepmother and her two jealous, shady daughters. Clean this! Wash that! Don't forget to mend my dress, Cinderella! The teases and taunts were endless. I lost all sense of time and reality in that basement.

Years passed without proper nutrition or emotional growth. I hadn't had a bath in forever and I was beginning to hallucinate. Soon, the animated animals were talking to me and helping me make all my decisions.

One stormy evening the birds and squirrels came up with a brilliant plan that would change my life forever. Bird flew a sleeping pill up to stepmother's window while mouse waited just inside the window, without stirring. Once the pill was dissolved in her nightcap, my plan was set in motion.

I stole her dress, jewelry and shoes and all sorts of magic began to happen. These were all signs that this was MY time and the abuse would soon end. The doctors don't believe me but you must! I had only a brief amount of time to complete my plan.

The ball was wonderful except for leaving one of stepmother's slippers. The prince searched the kingdom to find me and we were married immediately.

For an entire year I wondered why he wasn't interested in sex or even kissing. That was until I walked in and found him in bed with one of my footmen. My screams of horror forced him to leap out of bed. Now he was standing in nothing but my glass slippers.

He hadn't searched the kingdom far and wide for ME. Nooooo, he wanted nothing more than to find that other glass slipper. Oh, he's a charming character all right, quite the dandy - complete with a shoe fetish.

So there he stood. What once was a story-book image of prince on high horse was now prince on high heels. He became more enraged and embarrassed by the minute. He pulled the silk sheets around his royal waist and threatened to expose my talking animated friends to the authorities.

Well, that wasn't going to happen. I went sobbing to my fairy godmother and she called in the fairy GODFATHER. That's when the real magic began. See, I told you I was innocent. The Godfather shot my husband.

He put four bullets deep in that fairy tail.

You would have done the same.

I walked into a space bar

Thu, 22 Jul 2010 12:07:44 -0400

When did Sarah Palin reach her potential?

At birth

What do you call Obama with a hairlip?

A socialisp

What did McDonalds say to the little fat kid?

Welcome back

What do you call a black gymnast?

An afrobat

Why wouldn't the little boy go to church?

There was a priest there

What's the muslim study of past artifacts?

Archeallahgy

What's the fat babies favorite lullaby?

Twinkie Twinkie Little Star

Why did the White House lose power?

They forgot to pay the reform bill

Why did the pregnant spider scream?

She was having a taRANTula

What's a popular muslim fabric?

Demosque

What did Octomom take home from the hospital?

Litterature

Why was the cartoonist booked?

They found trace particles.

What did the pilot leave in the airplane toilet?

A travel log

What do you call a Russian on xanax?

A calmunist

Why did Tiger Woods text the psychic?

She gave good whoroscope

Who is Uncle Sam's sister?

Antibellum

Why are armless people so healthy?

They can't catch anything

What do you call a man-hating lesbian?

Anti-sementic

What do you call a relaxed writer?

Tranquill

Why does Tim McClellan sleep with his phone?

Scared to miss another call

Why did the golf ball like the water?

He wanted to be subpar

Why couldn't Tony Hayward graduate?

He forgot to order a cap and gown.

What do you get when a bull sucks helium?

A bulloon

What did the fetus request at the hotel?

A womb for two

What made the stairs into escalators?

Stairoids

Who supports the legalization of marijuana?

Prograssives

Why was the lizard put in jail?

Possession of mariguana

Why couldn't the little poor boy go to Sea World?

They didn't accept whalefare

How did the saavy homeless man make money?

He used an I Hate Obama sign.

Who handles stolen fonts?

The Serif's Deputy

What do feminists drive?

Vulvos

What killed the keyboard?

A keystroke

Why did the wine glass wear heels?

She wanted to lift her spirits

What killed the workaholic farmer?

Mad Plow

Where does the farmer get his meds?

The farmacy

Who designs the deadliest denim?

Gloria Vandersloot

Why did BP hire a thug?

He was good at capping

Which key opens rehab?

The Junky

What do Cheney and his daughter share?

The desire to manipulate Bush

Where did BP throw its trash?

In the peli can

Why was the lawyer scandalous?

She flashed her briefs at a well-hung jury.

How did the expletive travel lightly?

She only packed her swear essentials

Treat Mints

Mon, 19 Jul 2010 14:07:06 -0400

Welcome to Treat Mints!

The web's most unique assortmint of personalized breath mints.

Apartmints: Mint for the homeless. You may not have a roof over your head but you have one in your mouth; freshen it with Apartmints. Taste like cardboard. Feels like home.

Argumints: Mint for lawyers. Stop objections to your breath with a strong Argumint. Comes in a cold case.

Atonemints: Mint for Jews. Become one with fresh breath. Jap slap your Hebrew halitosis and have mint jewlips for 8 miraculous days. Step out of denile with our moses basket of Atonemints. No tips, please.

Attachmints: Mint for the lonely. Buy one get one free.

Augmints: Mint for California girls. The only thing you haven't changed is your breath. Feel the ground move when you pop a fluid-filled Augmint.

Cemints: Mint for sufferers of Erectile Dysfunction. Strong in the mouth but weak in the south? Try Cemints; they're hard to beat.

Enlargemints: Mint for the vertically challenged. Take your breath to new heights.

Garmints: Mint for Mormons. Bring all the sister wives to the compound with our mints. Share more than just each other; share the magic of Garmints. Delivered by a 15 passenger van.

Movemints: Mint for the constipated. Freshens breath and keeps colons in mint condition. Comes in various shapes and sizes. Smells like merde.

Placemints: Mint for stay at home moms. Shaped like bare feet. Best kept in kitchen.

Sacramints: Mint for priests. Annoint yourself with breath as fresh as you are. Smells like incense; tastes like teen spirit.