Lazy Cheap Fat Bastard

It looked like Mama had got into the crack again. She was warned not to mix street drugs with her antidepressants. She got all crazy chasing kids and pissing on people’s porches. I guess she thought it was Halloween. But what was more amazing was how put together was her cow outfit. I wondered if she made it herself. I wondered if she watched a Martha Stewart episode and sewed it together. I blame Martha Stewart. I always blame Martha Stewart. I wonder if the cow suit was a rental. I mean it was suspiciously well put together. I’m sure at the nearest mental ward she would’ve won the costume contest. I also wondered if it was a rental and if she could get back her deposit.

I try to think what the hell must’ve been going through her mind. Did she check to see if the cow tits were in the right place? Did she pose in the mirror smiling at her milky exposure? Did she just decide that day she wanted to lose her mind.? I’ve had those days. But it didn’t seem like something that was spontaneous. It seemed planned for weeks. The bitch wanted to make the papers. She wanted me to write this blog about her. She wanted me to worship her for the rest of my life. I don’t know too many crazy people that would go to so much detail to prove they are damn crazy.

Mama next time calls me. You can wear your cow outfit and I will wear my purple rain assless chaps and we will party like it’s 1999.