Mutha's Day

Happy Mother’s Day to all you mutha’s out there (wink, wink).

I have much to be thankful for when I think of my mom. The fact that she had sex with my father and I was conceived would be the first thing I feel compelled to thank her for. And yes, as shocking as it is for some of us to fathom the idea that our mother’s have had some sex, well, I’m here, so the proof is in the pudding, or the semen met the egg. I know that my parent’s had sex at least four times, because I have two sisters and a brother.

Oh God. I suddenly feel nauseated.

I’m not sure if you’re one of those persons that actually get along with your parents. I am not. I love my family. No really, I do, but quite honestly there’s a reason why they live a plane flight away, or a week long trip in the car to come and see me. I moved; they stayed. When they do come to visit, I need time to clean up my love shack.

You know what I mean, don’t you? Put away the porno movies; replace all the erotica books next to my bed with something less offensive to them, like gardening 102, or how to cook the perfect meal. And I can’t forget to clean out the bottom drawer of my nightstand. It’s stuffed with things like, various types of lube, vibrators, riding crops, handcuffs, massage oil, Kama Sutra lotion, French ticklers, blindfolds, paddles, and one very fine, leather whip (heavy sigh).

My mom was just here visiting a few months ago and I’d completely forgotten about that bottom drawer. Oops! Let’s just say, the contents made for an interesting breakfast conversation. When family comes for a visit, clean that shit up, is all I’m saying.

I guess I wasn’t abused too much as child growing up; on a beach, surfing everyday. But there was that whole Catholic thing my mom kept shoving down my throat. I was a round hole; Catholicism was the square peg. My mom kept pushing and shoving me into that damn space, but I just didn’t fit. It’s like trying to fuck a guy with an enormous cock. I know. I know. Some of you are wondering what the problem is, but sometimes cocks are just too unmanageable. They can actually be too big. I SWEAR this is true. Too big of a cock is like never getting wet enough, but still getting fucked anyway.

Ouch. Oochie-wa-wa. Fingernails down the chalkboard, ladies. Sandpaper sore.

And there’s never any pleasure to help ease that kind of pain. Unless of course you’re taking some real serious muscle relaxer’s, and the dude with the big cock that’s pounding away on you doesn’t care that’s it you he’s banging or a corpse, for God’s sake.

I’ve added much humor here. I just can’t help myself. I do have fond memories of my mom. She’s actually a wonderful woman; very loving, giving and she can be a real hoot. She’s a little on the controlling side, but I learned to put the kibosh on that a long time ago.

Happy Mother’s Day to the every mom in the world today.


What fond memories do you have your mutha? I’d like to hear about them.



p.s. The greeting card above can be purchased here.