That's my tough talkz; I am in the Kentuckyz; I'm reading about a quilt. Businessmen in the Kentuckyz love the high knee boots. Believe it. They're not like the Alabamaz businezmen who like the sorority girls in their little heels and their prom dresses and the promise of pom-pomz and pigtails later.
this year mama's matured & she calls the kentuckyz the kentuckies.
this year the hot lesbian did not look mama up & down like she was gonna eat her up.
this year a hot bald guy tried to flirt w/ mama & mama, lacking the social skills & the drink at that time, just didn't get it...
this year mama was stopped often & told she had a great sense of style. she was also told she looked eurotrash. maybe that's a compliment for hipsters but in miltown where mama's from them's fighting words, yo. bitch is lucky she didn't get a pbr upside the head. for reals.
this year mama wasn't looking for her mojo. maybe she should be looking for her mojo. maybe mama spent all her mojo in the writing of Homegirl! we'll see, eh? cos Homegirl!'s gonna fucking drop this year, yo.
the last night in ky, this year, mama went to a chi-chi bar by herself cos mama was looking all eurotrashy & she sat at the bar & ate chi-chi potato gnocchi & drank a manhattan & read Jean Rhys Good Morning, Midnight & it was yar...
after mama ate & drank & read, she walked around the chi-chi restaurant's hotel's museum & she fell in love with the juxtaposition of the drunken wedding receptions & the solitude & she took pictures of the pictures & giggled to herself & thought about crashing a reception but they looked boring fratboyesque & so she left & walked down Main St (i fucking kid you not) & stumbled upon the ky gay pride parade & tried to catch beads.
it was more than yar.
mama ended her last night in ky in a dive bar on bardstown with a double of maker's, no mardi gras beads, a crush on a 70 year old photographer, & three magnums in her underwire bra... cos that's where she keeps her integrities, yo...