Tag Archives: mom

I hate 9/11.

No, really, I do. Oh, not for all those other reasons. I mean, I get why people are still angry and the remembrances thing. I don’t get the blatant racism cloaked in patriotism thing, but the other stuff, that i get.
But, back to me. All me, all the time. I mean, come on, there’s a certain element of narcissism to doing a blog. A little self importance even.
But enough with the avoidance, the digressions.
I hate 9/11 because it stole my mom’s fucking thunder.
On Labor Day 2001, one week before the shitstorm that socially, politically and literally altered America’s landscape indefinitely, my mom died. She was an amazing and caring and loving and hardworking and, well, to be honest, incredibly sarcastic woman. She was allowed about one week of remembrance before chicken little’s sky came-a-fallin’ and people had other shit to worry about.
That is why I hate 9/11.
Bullshit politics, asshole religion and retarded ideology pushed my mom’s death to the back burner.
It also doesn’t help that every year’s hoopla surrounding the impending date brings to mind my own loss. How my own life’s course took a crazy swing. How much has changed in regards to lifestyle and outlook and future.
September of 2001.
Super shitty.
Of course, I haven’t devoted trillions of dollars and countless deaths to a war in her name. So I guess I got that going for me.
Eh?

My mom around 18-20? Probably high as shit.

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Catface.

A few months back I got a call from a friend about a tiny ball of fur in the street. Too small to get itself out of the street and over the curb, the poor thing could barely walk much less avoid traffic. We figured the mother dropped it while moving the litter from the house recently under construction to a new abandoned building. The poor thing was so tiny that it still needed bottle feeding and toilet training (the details of which are both funny and more than a little gross). So small and furry and kind of pathetic, we weren’t sure if it would even make it through the first week.
Well.
He did.
Up until today, he’s been Gutterball, Toilet Cat, and Catface. But now little buddy needs his new and improved grown up name.
Any ideas?

Thanks Mom, for the inability to turn away strays and the heart to take in those in need.
Of course this time, I get a jerk of a cat who farts like a 200lb dog.

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