So. America, please read the following from Katy:

This is Katy from over at Lesbians in My Soup. It is an honor (oh, such an honor!) for me (little old me!) to have been selected (chosen, even!) by Mooner Johnson, in conjunction with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Department of Homeland Security, HUD, and some other agencies I’m not at liberty to mention, to bring to you this OFFICIAL GOVERNMENT DENIAL.


There is no party at Mooner Johnson’s house next week.


We know what you heard and we know where you heard it and I am here to tell you that it’s just not so.


Because, you see, there is no party at Mooner Johnson’s house next week. The people you’ve been hearing that from? They are conspiracy nuts. They are tin foil hat crowd types. At best, they are woefully misinformed.


They’re the same ones who believe in UFO’s and in aliens and in the Zombie Apocalypse. They think LBJ killed JFK and maybe worse! And when the government released OFFICIAL GOVERNMENT DENIALS for those things? They didn’t believe us then, either. They won’t believe us now.


But you’re smarter than them, aren’t you? You know because you’ve heard it. You know because you can read the words I am saying to you right this instant and you can recognize the truth when you see it.


There is no party at Mooner Johnson’s house next week.


The government has looked into it. Government workers, whose salaries are paid with your tax dollars and who get up every day and go to work with ONLY your best interests in mind, really, they looked and they listened and they measured several different things. Then they put all of the information they got into a computer. They pressed a button. The computer spit out a conclusion.


It was a definite conclusion with no ambiguity.


It said, “There is no party at Mooner Johnson’s house next week.”


It said Squatlo doesn’t need to bring the keg. It said Brandon from Idaho does not need to book his tickets now. It said you don’t need to charge up your camera, because BJ will definitely not be dancing around with a lampshade on his head come this time next Friday.


It said nobody needs to worry about the chips and the dip. You do not need to bring a gift or wear a costume because there is no wedding reception and there is no costume party. Because there is not ANY kind of party. Because there is no party at Mooner Johnson’s house next week.


We have the pictures to prove it. No preparations are under way. No salesman will visit your home. There is no party at Mooner Johnson’s house next week.


There won’t be a pig in the parlor. No ostrich in the Jacuzzi. These are not the droids you’re looking for.


No off-duty police have been hired to direct traffic. Nobody cleared out Mooner’s den for pole dancing. Why would they? There is no party at Mooner Johnson’s house next week.


Back when I was a teenager, my grandmother was a lot like you. She was a cynic. Thought everybody else was lying. Never believed what she was told. Saturday nights, I would tell her I was going to the library to study and she would never believe me. She would follow me to the library, all stealth-like. As though I did not know she was following.


She would sit out in her car as I walked into the library. Maybe pay some random kid walking by to go in to check and see if I was in there. That I had not snuck out some back door. She wasted a lot of nights sitting around outside of libraries while I was inside, learning. She wasted a lot of time, and that’s a shame, and you don’t want to end up like my grandmother, do you?


The good news is you don’t have to waste your time the way my grandmother wasted hers. You don’t have to set up your own spying operations. The government did the leg work for you! They had the drones and they had the wiretaps and they had the spies who went deep (deep! deep!) undercover.


You didn’t hear this from me, but there’s even a member of Mooner’s immediate family who is nothing more than a plant sent in to get the inside scoop on these sorts of things.


And the drones and the wiretaps and the spies who went deep, do you know what they told us? Can you guess what they said?


They said, “There is no party at Mooner Johnson’s house next week.”


They said, “Don’t clear your schedule.” They said, “Don’t call your friends.” They said don’t prep your opening line for when you hit on Reckmonster. They said there will be no band and there will be no strippers and there will be no pony rides.


They said we’d be wise to deny everything because there is nothing to deny. They said they’re your government and you believe your government, don’t you?








This has been an OFFICIAL GOVERNMENT DENIAL by Katy from Lesbians in My Soup. We now return you to your regularly scheduled blogging.”





Thanks, Katy.


Print Friendly

12 Responses to “***RED ALERT***RED ALERT***RED ALERT***”

  1. squatlo says:

    If you don’t want us to come to your fucking party, just say so! Hell, I was all packed up, fresh batteries in the SLR, a cooler full of iced down Killians, a fifth of Makers Mark, and a few agricultural products stowed away for those who might choose to partake. Now I’m all dressed up with no place to go.

    Katy, you should be ashamed of yourself. I don’t know how Mooner talked you into running cover for his ass, but whatever the price paid it wasn’t enough. Make him come up with his own excuses! He’ll probably deny that he was even involved in this cover-up, say something about visiting Santa Fe or Albuquerque.

    Not buying it, personally. There’s a big ass party planned for next week, and y’all are just trying to keep it secret.

    I better not see pictures in People Magazine, that’s all I’m saying.

  2. Katy Anders says:

    Squatlo, Squatlo, Squatlo!

    You are starting to sound like one of those 9/11 Truthers!

    Let’s see… If the 9/11 folks are Truthers, and the Obama/Kenya crowd is Birthers…

    I hereby dub thee the first Partyer!

    Sometimes a denial is just a denial…

  3. mel says:

    that’s OK…I have to work…

  4. squatlo says:

    This reminds me of the time a couple of my high school buddies stopped at a local market in my hometown and “advertised a party at my parents’ house while they were out of town. I thought I had the place to myself, invited a couple of friends over to tap into my dad’s beer keg and shoot pool in the basement… about seventy-five people later the neighbors came over and informed me they were calling my folks in Wisconsin to tell on me if I didn’t clean house.

    Mooner’s having a party, everybody!

  5. Dammit, I booked my tickets on the “wanna get away” special and I can’t get a refund.

    …can I still crash on your couch? I’ll bring beer…

  6. That’s correct…there is no party. The party will be the reception after the nuptials once Mooner gets off his lazy ass and finds, marries, and divorces wifey number 11.

    However, in the meantime, Mooner, dahhhhhhling, feel free to throw a soiree or two or seven with cases and cases of Carta Blanca – and we’ll be there. Oh, and tomatoes too. I want some tomatoes. If they’re really good tomatoes, I may CONSIDER leaving a picture or two on the nightstand…

  7. squatlo says:

    Hey Reck, you KNOW you’ll need a discrete photog for those pix, right? Someone local, with talent and the right gear? Ahem…

  8. admin says:

    Everybody, one and all. There is no fucking party planned. OK, wait. There is no planned party that has a date set. I’m planning to have lots of more parties just not anytime soon. Maybe the next one will be over to Santa Fe or maybe Rush and Ricky will wed before I find a place over there.

    (Special to the Reckster. Let’s barter.)

  9. squatlo says:

    (special to Reck and Mooner: I’m sitting here with a blank memory card, a half dozen lenses, a photoshop program designed to improve even the most glorious of skin tones, and lots and lots of time…)

    Mooner, you’re leaving comments on other folks’ blogs, so get off your butt and add a post to your own! Jeez… these two and three day breaks you and BJ take (not to mention Reck’s “retirement”) have left me feeling abandoned. Like a puppy on the side of the road, looking for dumpsters.

    How’s Santa Fe, anywho?

  10. Father-of-the-Year Nominee, Mooner Johnson says:

    Squat. OK, first, look up one teenie-tiny slot from your own. Second, Santa Fe not till month’s end. Third, have desire, will travel–set up the shoot and I’mma be jolly on spots.

    I’m just totally jacked up with stuff to do and scattered and smothered on the Inet. De-wad your panties and I’ll see you soon.

  11. bj says:

    Soooooo …. am I invited? ….. or not? Have Lampshade, Will Travel ….

  12. bj says:

    And Squatty ….. again …. It ain’t ALWAYS about you ……

Leave a Reply