I swear, it was just like mom used to make

  • I swear, it was just like mom used to make back when

  • I too lived in a back alley. Ahhh, pufferfish. Mom used to say that poison builds character. Not her character, apparently, but it worked wonders for mine. I even call her every

  • nasty name in the book. After a typical phone convo the swear jar is overflowing with penance. I plopped a pretty penny in that petty penance pot. Mom would be in my alley in just

  • a bit. With expletives and a throaty laugh, she expressed her interest in my recent ventures. Mom could outswear a sailor (and had the tattoos to prove it). Any other mother

  • , no...but my mom used to call us in for dinner like this: "Get your f#@!in' heinies in the g@#%!$mn house now, you little sh*t monkeys. And I don't mean f*#@%in' maybe!" We loved

  • her homemade sauerkraut fried with onions, but friends ever wanted to come over for dinner. Go figure. Of course, maybe her truck-driver mouth scared away. Or was it her beard?

  • Couldn't be her beard - it was double braided, luxuriant and reached her waist. She always got compliments on her beard. Maybe no one came to dinner because of her habit of head-

  • banging during the cheese course. It made her so dizzy at her last dinner party that she tripped over her beard & face planted into the trifle. Since then she's been in social Sibe

  • which is a club. Social Sibe is part online social media and dance club. She was there to rehabilitate her "awesomeness."

  • So you see, class, we start with free speech, capitalists spread fear propaganda, commercialism bans free speech and next thing you know you're dancing with "We Think We're Stars".



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