Of road whores and Rhodes Scholars.

untitledmother’s best friends are the town whore and a mentally challenged women. She’s always had this habit of befriending the underdog, the person no one else wants anything to do with.

Before you drag out the hearts and flowers, I must tell you that it’s not a noble act by any stretch. She simply likes to hang out with people who, by comparison, make her look good. It’s a horrible thing, I know. But that’s how my sweet momma rolls.

Her slut friend has slept with half the town. But you have to give her props. Geriatric pimpin’ ain’t easy — especially when you confuse the K-Y with the Ben-Gay and the condom with the colostomy bag. Monday through Saturday, she’s spreading her legs. Sunday, she’s sitting in the front pew. Hey, god loves the whores, too. He ESPECIALLY loves the whores. Hearing Myrtle repent for covetous thoughts about Hazel’s tater tot casserole recipe has got to get old, even for a deity. What a welcome change it must be when when Seniorita Slutbags walks in and drops phrases like “rim job” and “dirty Sanchez.”

You wouldn’t know it by looking at her, but untitledmother’s other friend is mentally challenged. untitledmother says she’s smart enough to figure out how NOT to work. Gee, sounds like some other genius I know. Glad to see you’ve found a role model, ma.

The fact that her retarded friend doesn’t have to work really gets under untitledmother’s skin, for her philosphy has always been “She who naps the longest and manages to do the least amount of work wins.” But you know what they say: It’s hard to soar like an eagle when you’re flying with turkeys. Not that untitledmother would want anything to do with soaring. Cause that would, like, take a modicum of effort.

8 thoughts on “Of road whores and Rhodes Scholars.”

  1. I was gonna give you a hard time about being so hard on your mom. I always try to make myself think of the good in people, to take them at their own level, to forgive their foibles. Having a really decent human for my own mom makes it hard to imagine a rotten one.

    But then I think of my brother-in-law Michael’s horrid hag mother. The one who, after he lost his dear dad and his only sibling to cancer within a year, said to his face, “Now I don’t have ANYONE.”

    Oh, yeah, Ma, wtf is Michael, beyond a kind, loving, charming human? But she wouldn’t recognize those qualities…because they weren’t the kind of thing that mattered to her. Feh.

  2. Oh why oh why did I follow that link to Wikipedia? There are some things I’d really rather not know about and the meaning of Dirty Sanchez is one of them.

  3. I spent many many years denying how awful my parents are and it caused nothing but grief. When parents are toxic, the sooner you own up to it and move on, the better. You seem to be going through the “I’m gonna be honest with you til it hurts” period. Soon you might get to the “do I know you?” period.

    I do not have anything to do with mine. It’s the only safe way.

  4. I am soooo excited! I may actually be able to use the phrase Dirty Sanchez and bet I can stump my husband who thinks he knows everything gross and profane 🙂 If he DOES know what it means, I may have to divorce him.

  5. next you should look up Abe Lincoln, uh, NOT the president… !
    i’ma guessing untitledma is unaware of this here blog eh?
    The trio of women you describe sounds rather awful. Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could be awful without feeling guilty about it? Next life I shall be reprehensible! and really really hot! 🙂

  6. “Geriatric pimpin’ ain’t easy” is my new catchphrase. I’m going to see if I can get that into a conversation tomorrow. Hahaha, geriatric pimpin’.

    (My great-grandma Esther died from complications of a broken hip after she got in a fight with another woman in her nursing home because they both had Alztheimer’s and both thought that a man in the nursing home was their husband. I don’t know why I thought that was related to this blog entry, but in my mind, it fits.)

  7. I now have a new epithet: You dirty Sanchez you!
    If only I had someone to use it on.
    Oh, yes, my family, they are accustomed to my abuse by now.
    They deserve it is why…

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