As the recently enthroned Queen of the Desert, Queen Heath raised a lean, mean and sexy arm to heaven, his protruding nipples and rippled belly golden and firm and fresh in the sunlight, declaring, “It’s about freakin’ time! Finally! Finally! This has been a long time coming! Fan-al-lee I am Queen! Does this crown make me look fat? Is the necklace too much? Now. This is what I want: As your Queen, I want my MTV. Forget VH1, VH2, VH3 and 4 and all the rest, or Sirius Satellite Radio for that matter. I want my freakin’ MTV from the early 1980s! I only want to see early ’80s videos on my MTV and that’s all I want to see on my MTV and I want to see that MTV now! And some crackers. Not the white, fat, racist kind from the South, but, you know, white crunchy crackers that I can eat whenever I want because I am Queen. White crunchy crackers do not go to my hips and I’ve got to keep my hips svelte because I am Queen! I also want M&M’s, green only, please. Mariah Carey will sing for me on weekends! Tony Molinaro will be my Court Jester! Greg will be my Proctologist! The Reverend Ed will be my Gynecologist and Spiritual Adviser! Roy will be my Manicurist! Adrian will be my Interpreter! And E2 will wash my balls! (I love tennis so much and as your Queen I demand clean, washed balls!) And, let’s see, oh yes, I want a piss boy to carry a piss bucket (Queen’s can use a piss bucket, there’s no shame in a standing squat, other than it’s a little splashy) because my bladder is weak. I am a Queen with a weak bladder and I demand a piss boy with piss bucket! And I want herring too. Whenever I want herring I want herring. And a shrubbery. And I want that all today, posthaste, lickety-split, immediately! Tomorrow I will make a new list! Now. Bow down! Bow down and blow Queen Heath of the Desert!”
![611578460_2022e5895d[1].JPG](http://www.majikwah.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/611578460_2022e5895d[1].JPG)
Priscilla visits Burning Man.
Heath: Queen of the Desert
the God King’s cousin: Jerkxes
As the recently enthroned Queen of the Desert, Queen Heath raised a lean, mean and sexy arm to heaven, his protruding nipples and rippled belly golden and firm and fresh in the sunlight, declaring, “It’s about freakin’ time! Finally! Finally! This has been a long time coming! Fan-al-lee I am Queen! Does this crown make me look fat? Is the necklace too much? Now. This is what I want: As your Queen, I want my MTV. Forget VH1, VH2, VH3 and 4 and all the rest, or Sirius Satellite Radio for that matter. I want my freakin’ MTV from the early 1980s! I only want to see early ’80s videos on my MTV and that’s all I want to see on my MTV and I want to see that MTV now! And some crackers. Not the white, fat, racist kind from the South, but, you know, white crunchy crackers that I can eat whenever I want because I am Queen. White crunchy crackers do not go to my hips and I’ve got to keep my hips svelte because I am Queen! I also want M&M’s, green only, please. Mariah Carey will sing for me on weekends! Tony Molinaro will be my Court Jester! Greg will be my Proctologist! The Reverend Ed will be my Gynecologist and Spiritual Adviser! Roy will be my Manicurist! Adrian will be my Interpreter! And E2 will wash my balls! (I love tennis so much and as your Queen I demand clean, washed balls!) And, let’s see, oh yes, I want a piss boy to carry a piss bucket (Queen’s can use a piss bucket, there’s no shame in a standing squat, other than it’s a little splashy) because my bladder is weak. I am a Queen with a weak bladder and I demand a piss boy with piss bucket! And I want herring too. Whenever I want herring I want herring. And a shrubbery. And I want that all today, posthaste, lickety-split, immediately! Tomorrow I will make a new list! Now. Bow down! Bow down and blow Queen Heath of the Desert!”
whoa.