Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Longtime Reader, Longtime Wiper (Or, Mother Knows Breast)

My mother, ever the fan of this blog (um, duh) was alarmed by one of my recent posts.

No, it wasn't Barbara Walter's fascination with a transsexual child's snake.

No, it wasn't my recollection of beholding the wonder of Lorraine Bracco.

And, no, it wasn't my less-than-veiled allusions to drug use in Amsterdam.

She too was disturbed by the bowely stylings of Miss Sheryl Crow.

Linda Marie writes...

I agree, no one is going to tell me how much toilet paper I am allowed to use per visit to the bathroom. If they start putting limits in public places like restaurants, say in New York or Washington DC, I will just increase my bra size from THANK GOD I HAVE TITS, to THAT OLD LADY HAS LUMPY TITS. I could fill that sucker with a month's worth of toilet paper.

Anyone who knows my mother won't be surprised by this mash-up of bathroom humor and an "I ain't got no titties" joke.

Those who don't know her - there she is, in a nutshell.

I've said it before...and I'll say it again:

That whole Nature vs. Nurture argument is one hell of a motherfucker.

1 comment:

R. said...


This reminds me of those underwear-wearing mannequins they prop up on some storefront windows lined up along 8th Ave. in Chelsea, and which they stuff with sheets of tissue in an apparent attempt to make them look sek-say but which only succeeds in making them look disturbing. They end up so unevenly lumpy that they look like they're sprouting growths. "That guy should have that checked out," I always think when I go by.

Your Mom should have a blog of her own.