Mom! Get that goddamn hamster out of my ass you crazy bitch. I swear this woman will be the end of me. After the hamster morning wake up call she told me to get dressed because we got stuff to do. She borrowed the neighbor’s car so we could pick up her car at the pub where she works which is the same pub where mom won ‘Best Boobs of the Year’ a few years back when her boobs didn’t sag so much. Because she’s older now the law of gravity has begun to take its toll on her chest. She left her car at the pub because she got drunk and/or high and now she wants it back, the car, not the drugs. She lost her left contact lens too. And a heel. And her bra. She didn’t tell me she got high but I’m not stupid. Anyway, even though I can drive, I don’t have a license. I don’t even have a permit or a boyfriend yet. On the way to get her car mom went berserk and started making up nasty menu items for her future restaurant. She said she will call it “Mom’s Genitalia” after her genitalia. Dumbass men love that shit, she said. It’s the goddamn truth. Mom said she’ll serve the nastiest items imaginable to dickheads or guys who can’t keep their fucking you know what in their pants. Mom’s always wanted to be a restaurant owner, or a madam, and I think she’d be a really great boss. Her favorite nasty dish: the fecal fondue, which comes with a side of fresh baked dingleberry muffins. Yes, I know. Mom is gross. She’s insane mostly Monday through Saturday, but I don’t care. We always laugh our fucking asses off. That’s why I’m so thin. Anyway, I love mom when she’s at her nastiest. That shit makes her smile. She doesn’t smile a lot and less now since the ARM went up. I’ll serve it to that boss of mine one day, she said. In a heartbeat. She hates her boss and I do too, especially after what he did to her that night he touched her in the Netherlands when no one was around, not even a mouse. Or a bloodhound.