Mom: hey chickie
Mom: made meatballs.
what more can a poor working girl want
than her mama’s company
Me: did you just call me a prostitute?
Mom: no, those are skanky working girls, with a tramp stamp
you have a stamp, but not in the trampy spot
Me: oh man alive.
Mom: but don’t want to see you and j cupcaking
Me: what does that even mean?
Mom: and i am your peep
you should check your vitals
and dont talk smack about kathy
obvi you are the bomb
and ridonkulous beyond sick for shizzle tight and wack to boot
a total nutter, and snogging your boo with a totes badonkadong
I been reading the aarp magazine
how many of those do you know?
Me: like- the old people magazine?
Me: You are scary.
Mom: bet i made your day huh
we aarp’ers are right up on it
Mom: so what thinks you my baby girl
am i cool or what?