Monthly Archives: July 2015

Conversation With My Mother

My Mother to Brautigan: Peter piper picked a pack of pickled peckers. Me: Mother he did not pick a pickled pecker. My Mother: Well what did he pick? Me: A pepper. My Mother: Oh.

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Conversation With My Mother

My mother: …Well, if he wants to come over to my place and give me a quaalude, I’ll gladly take one. But he’d have to leave me the fuck alone. Me: That’s terrible, Mother. And besides, I don’t believe they … Continue reading

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Bounce House Hell

It was inevitable. I crossed paths with one of those bouncy houses. Brautigan took one look at it and nearly fell on his knees begging to go. Since he’s only three, there was no way in hell I was going … Continue reading

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