So. Thought I’d drop you a quick line, see what happens. Gram called me yesterday afternoon and the call went like this:
Me: “Hey, baby, who’s banging whom?
Gram: “I’mma be a bangin’ yer hard head iffn ya don’t call yer crazy ol’ mother.”
Me: “I already spoke to her twice today, Gram. What’s her bitch now?”
Gram: “Said she had ate a salad at lunch with Eddie’s mammy an’ got tha gassers so bad she shit herse’f. You call ‘er up an’ make it right.”
“Eddie’s mammy?” I asked the dial tone buzzing in my ear. “Eddie’s mammy?” I re-asked, this time to the Squirt.
The little brown dog looked at me like I’d lost my mind and said to me, she said, “Your mother’s memory is going fast, shithead. Try to be more respectful, if you even can.
“OK, you’re right, of course. But Eddie’s mammy? Who, inthefuck, could Eddie’s mother be? Hells-bells, Squirtie girl, I don’t even know an Eddie in Mother’s life.”
Which reminds me. I heard Rangy Rance Preibublican, head of all Republicans, on the TV Sunday am, and he was saying how Governor Christy having closed a major Interstate bridge in political retribution, causing serious human suffering, and then throwing his own staff under the bus and lying about it all, does not disqualify the obese former prosecutor from a Presidential slot on the next Republican ticket.
I agree. Chris Christy is the face of the Republican Party—a fat white bigot willing to cheat and lie and take social support from the needy, all the while clutching his rosary and living his life for Christ’s honor. “Chris Christy is the face of the Republican Party” should be their new motto.
And that just spurred the mental acuity required to solve Gram’s puzzle. Edamame. Eddie’s mammy is soy beans. My mother is allergic to raw soy beans, had some in a salad and got the squirts. Having figured out the quiz, I beg the question, “How’s that my problem?”
Anyway, gotta go for now. Manana, or so, y’all.