Posted in Almost Dorothy, Amanda Bernstein, Family, The Mother

God Save The Queen: The Porn Star is Dead!


Last night mom and her new lover Amanda Bernstein (the B is silent) got struck by a porn star while driving south on Biscayne Boulevard. He drove a Honda something and they’re not dead, but almost died. The porn star is dead. His body stained the sidewalk with his bloody good looks and secret past. Based on the size of his penis, it’s a shame he won’t perform on film anymore. I’ve seen his photographs on the Internet. No, mom has no idea what the Internet is for, but I do. My best friend Squinny has an X-tube account. Amanda stopped mom from flying out the windshield with the force of her arm. Snap. I had no idea Amanda was stronger than Godzilla, or would even think to stop mom from hitting asphalt, because I wouldn’t have been able to do it. It was that ass’s fault, mom said, fuming mad. The porn star is dead!

Amanda Bernstein and mom spent one night in the hospital together, almost snuggling, almost holding hands. It’s like they’re married already, but not. Till death do us part, Amanda said. Mom looked at Amanda and crinkled her nose as if she smelled like a pile of dog shit, but Amanda just smiled and laughed. Called her a stupid, selfish bitch. I’m not sure how this will end, but I know Amanda will never forget mom, and mom will probably never forget Amanda as well. Because I was watching Requiem for a Dream the night they almost died I feel like I know what they’ve been through together. I can feel all the painful feelings that a double-sided dildo can cause. When there’s no hope, there’s always a mom inside you and the pain just begins to slip away when the pain reaches its apex. Even when strapped to a bed on her last leg mom will always be mom. Insensitive, grumpy, ill-mannered, but full of bitter love–or the possibility of love. When they came home, I hugged them. Amanda hugged me back. Mom lit a cigarette then took a leak.

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I'm not real, but I'm a writer.

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