Monday, June 19, 2006

My mother is a Jamaican whore and other stories from the weekend...

- This is what I feel like: A 'lil sassy, A 'lil drunk....


- PRIDE...Who cares, I drank, I told a friend of a friend that his current boyfriend used to "Relish giving me head"...in front of the current boyfriend, I fucked a rich Englishman...In the Ritz...And he sent me cologne this week as a "thank-you" (I am guessing) present. Wow, I just re-read this sentence and feel like a giant whore.

- Went to my parent's place in the country this past weekend, Father's day, My mother's b-day ect. Made it a booze filled loverly weekend of familial bliss. Did nothing but ride horses and watch BBCAmerica. My parent's just got back from a cruise around the Virgin Islands, and my mother wanted to tell me all about her time in "The third world" as she refers to the Caribbean...

- Port One: "Some random dirty island or cay or whatever", this is where my father stepped on a starfish and thought it was a shark. The local people were A)Dirty, B) All on drugs (my parents think everyone is on drugs). She bought a really whorish, Brooklynish gold necklace there, It was dirt cheap.

- Port Two: "Jamaica", My parents HATE Jamaica, yet they go there at least 3 times a year. My mid-life crisis mother always thinks she is going to be sold into sexual slavery and my father has yet to grasp the fact that cannabis is semi legal on the island. So anyway, my two middle aged parents decided to grab a local cab (which is a major no-no) for some "cultural flava" as my mom put it. The driver told my mother that she looked like Princess Diana (which she does) and proceeded to ask my father how much it was to have my mother blow him. Apparently my father looks like a pimp and the cab driver wanted to be blown by a dead princess. They switch cabs. After slumming around the ghetto (which is basically the whole island as my mother says) my dad decides to take in the local epicurean delight known as jerk chicken. He got this meal on their way to a really tame white water rafting trip (on a really dirty river, I am surprised there weren't any bodies floating in it, says Mama). Well apparently my father had not even gotten to the river before he needed to shit. He shat, and they proceeded on to the "Brown water rafting" check in. All was well, they rafted, acted like general retards I am sure...Until my father had stomach problems. He needed to "Go potty in the river" as my 51 year old mother explained to me, her 24 year old son. Well long story short, my father shat in a river in Jamaica...Off of a raft...Which is highly illegal...In front of other middle aged people...And got fined. Dad paid the fine and was allowed off the island and back on the boat. Jamaica is now referred to as "That island where your father went potty in the river and got a ticket" by my mother.

Port Four-Six: Who the fuck cares, "Piss-Poor islands full of Dirty locals and fat Dutch people" - My Father

- Port Seven: "Cozumel, Mexico" - This is the port of call where my mother, who is 51 (which is basically elderly) entered a "Very tasteful" wet t-shirt contest with a bunch of 18 year olds....And won that shit. So my parents, they love them some Mexico. Mexico this, Mexico that, I swear if they were to have another child they would name it Mexico (Mexica if it was a girl of course). My father lived in Mexico city for a year when he was with the C.I.A. and totally thinks he Latino, which is hilarious since he looks like John Travolta with a paunch. So they went to Cozumel and LOVED IT. I love Cozumel ("Everyone speaks English, they take U.S. currency and the jail the homeless" - Mother). While in Cozumel, my mother, had to be on meth or some other strong narcotic substance, because she let my father and some recent high school graduates talk her into participating in a wet t-shirt contest. They were at Senor Frog's, which my mother loves "because they play Sheryl Crow", and the bar was trying to recruit women for this titty-fest. Now let me preface one thing, my parents rarely drink, but when they do, they are TOTAL AND ABSOLUTE FUCKING RETARDS. So my father had drank 2 beers and was apparently "Balls to the wall" as he put it, which I have yet to comprehend and my mother had some "rum punch" aka she had just finished freebasing some crack. He nominated my mother for the contest, thinking she would win since the bar was full of A) high schoolers who would vote ironically for her and B) middle aged dirty men from their ship that want a piece of her punanny. So my mother did it (which I am quite proud of her for doing) and bitch WON (she said she kept her bra on, but she has had a few "Elective surgeries" aka titty remodeling, so I am guessing she was whoring it up). She won a $50 bar tab for Senor Frogs which she used to buy all the high schoolers drinks. She said that it was her "Oprah moment, the moment when I said to myself that I am a woman, look at me, this is what 50 looks like". I think my mom is smoking crack. Supposedly my father has pictures of this contest, I want them, for blackmailing purposes of course, but I think my eyes will fall out if it saw them.

- yes, these are my parents...The reason why I exist. I think it is kind of cool that they are all middle aged and acting like teens. They earned it, those lucky bitches.

- Oh btw, I am moving to London, and whis is who I am marrying....His name is Alex Pierre...how gay.



(He is holding our baby Kiki, ChaCha is with the nanny apparently)

And this is his sassy online journal (he says blogs are for whores)

http://www.alexpierre-traves.co.uk/

4 Comments:

At 10:10 PM, Blogger Carrie Broadshoulders said...

I guess you take after your mom then.

 
At 8:19 AM, Anonymous Cap'n Peecock said...

CornCob!

The very thought of chowin' down on your circum-sliced Amurrican cornstalk has my batter a-bubblin'! You provide the 'shroom-head and I'll churn you a generorus supply of boy butter for the saute!

About those Carobino Islands: FYI, they were named after the carob-coated peanuts that grow on the trees down there. It's their number one export. Betcha didn't know that! True, once you stray from the tourist areas things can get kinda dumpish. Stay close to the hotel/bar at all times where the local servants are more orderly and know how to treat rich foreign tourists. Dollars + Euros =respect for da mon!!

 
At 10:56 PM, Blogger Taylor said...

that girl at the top looks like deb from napoleon dynamite. maybe it's a halloween costume.

 
At 8:13 AM, Blogger Sally O'Malley said...

This is the funniest shit I have read in a long, long, LONG time. I love that you have such a sense of humor about your parents, who, by the way, must be a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with (especially if you're a highschooler in Mexico...)

 

Post a Comment

<< Home