galax-city hot rollers

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I was sent to an event called a roller derby. I did some research by looking at old roller-skating magazines from the years 1977 and 1984. I discovered that in order to fit into this setting I would need to use a curling device to “feather” my hair….the result is a strand convention resembling the delicate wing of a surly macaw. I went to a clothing store to gather up a one piece leotard and a bright puffy zipper jacket with a lovely sheen….so much sheen that I can adjust my blue eyelid liner in its reflection. I was sent on this particular mission to study female aggression and the coined phrase “cat fights”. I did not see any cats, thankfully because they make me nervous. However, there was a lot of underpants shoving and trash talk. I also witnessed an alarming altercation between a Jesus figure and a slice of cheesecake. The hooting and hollering from the audience lead me to believe that the injuries in the rink were both revered and envied. The hair pulling and obscene gestures were ones in which I have never studied before. I have decided to delve further into this wheel riding, butt cheek bruising underworld. I am going undercover and have decided to start my own chapter of roller “babes”. So far I am the only glider….but I’ll recruit Mr. Pantsuit and Unkle Schmunkle. They’re both accustomed to falling over and parading their undergarments to a crowd of yelling faces…yes, I know that was an accident but still an impressive tidbit for your resumes none the less.

I have concluded that the human species’ next evolutionary steps are wheeled feet and internal “Kool and the Gang” tracks running through their earlobes.
Godspeed you funky big bad mamba jambas.