So mama's on twitter cos that's the newfangled way to know when the ATF's coming for the backyard still. & mama sits on her porch with her shotgun and her jug and her beastyhounds & it is hot & it is hard to read the screen & mama's got one of those convertible laptops with a keyboard & touchscreen & sometimes she hits the screen with her drunk fingers accidentally and then she's watching the porns on her front porch so she doesn't even notice the chilluns playing some kind of chillun game all over her lawn. She doesn't even run them off.
Mama's almost hit 100 followers on twitter & she doesn't know if she should be sad that she has so few followers or happy that she has so many or all existential that it doesn't really matter either way. She's leaning towards the existential, yo. If mama didn't have a book out she loved like a baby, mama'd be sitting on that porch with her houndybeasts & her weapons & her jug & no twitter and no facebook and no bloggy and okay, yeah, probably some kinda porn or at least her stories...
Mama loves her book like a baby tho mama knows a book is not a baby. Maybe mama doesn't know this, maybe mama just thinks she knows this... but mama knows she can bring her book into a bar & accidentally leave it there & it will still exist & she will not be charged with negligence. Mama can leave her book on top of the car or in the middle of the fucking road, yo...
& mama's baby's already been gestated & nurtured. & mama's baby won't grow up not to love her or be all creepycreepy dependent wanting to call every day and wanting mama to wash their clothes & comb their hair & tuck their shirts in to their underwears still...Mama's book'll never call her a cunt & mama'll never hafta exert herself to shove the ivories soaps into metalbraces mouths. Mama'll never hafta play niceynice with her babydaddy's family even after she heard them talking about how between her moonshines & her masturbations they were tots surprised she wasn't blind.
What mama's trying to get at, in her roundabout alabamaz stills-induced way, is that she wants you to like her book. She wants you to like her book more than you like someone else's baby. In fact, she will give away a copy of her book-baby to the 100th person that likes the Homegirl! page on the facebooks... (mama'll be tot checking that shit, but in case her fingers drunkenslip again, be sure to comment here or post on her fb wall if you are #100). So far, there are about 40 people who like it... so if you wanna be all sneakysneaker & like it now and then wait til it gets up to 99 & unlike & then like, well mama's distracted easily by the whiskeys & the drunkenslips & the stories & the lizards crawling across her house walls.
yours all existential & shit,