There is a rave and it is going boom boom boom and there is E and mentholatum masks and mentholatum g-straps and writhing and grinding...
There is a fancy dinner party and I am wearing my dress to the fancy party and there is no booming bass and no mentholatum. Only adults talking Kierkegaard and Heidegger and Kant and every now and then someone uses Said to critique the sushi served on the naked Vietnamese girl...
& that is so like 2000 or something. & raves are so 1990. Get with the times, mama.
In case you didn't catch my last post, mama's been drinking champagne for a week straight. It's Cook's, but hell, mama's urine is still so sweet now, and the world wavers and the world bubbles. When peeps talk at mama, she sees those cartoon bubbly things encasing their words. When cars honk at mama for dancing in the street, mama throws champagne bottles at them.
Mama's novel, Homegirl!, is gonna be published by Honest Publishing.
If you want to check out bits of Homegirl!, there are links under I get around. Click on them, or don't. Just enjoy your Sunday funday and have a mimosa and/or fall for someone for mama...
|Homegirl + Labretboy?|