As regular readers know, Nancy W. Kappes (Paralegal) is my favorite fan in the entire history of the world and she sends me these bizarre, rambling emails that I print out and tape to my refrigerator and she won’t start a blog in spite of my prodding but she’s too awesome to keep to myself so I occasionally share a little wisdom from Nancy. Today is one of those days. You’re welcome:
JENNIFER ARIEL LOUISE LAWSON! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW!
Okay, I got some shit to run by you. There is this douche bag at work who is a complete tool and she follows this mommy website and this chick is all like, “Ohmygawd! Here she is with her new baby!” Then she shows me photos of her (apparently older daughter) who is downright motherfucking scary-ass! And SHE’S looking at the baby all like “I’m going to totally eat your fucking head the first chance I get, you bitch.” *
So now I’ve been doing nothing (ha! literally!) all week except trying to figure out this “mommy blog” bollocks. All I want to know is WHO GIVES A RAT’S ASS ABOUT YOUR KID??? It’s like my Claire’s [uh-oh—child mentioned] bugger it, she’s 20, and her new motto is “NOBODY CARES!” yes, you answer all questions put to you with “NOBODY CARES” and give them fierce stink-eye when you do it. Highly effective in a work environment. Okay. I can tell stories about my grrlz all day, but “NOBODY CARES!” However, if they were of a mind to be entertained, it’s all good.
We went thru a bad patch years ago when we had no money. I mean, really; no. fucking. money. We had to eat “Hamburger Helper” but couldn’t afford the goddamned hamburger, so we ate “Helper.” But it was worse the next night when we had mother fucking as-god-is-my-witness-where’s-that-damned-turnip “LEFTOVER HELPER.” So bite me, you sanctimonious bitches.
Another tale. We’re at the grocery using our food stamps that happened to save our lives, thankyouverymuch, when this fucking cunt behind us in her little designer track suit and her jewelry lets out this big sigh like “oh, what an inconvenience.” I get the groceries and the grrlz in the car and say, “Mommy will be right back.” Elizabeth yells out the window, “Hey, mom! Don’t kill her.” I assure them I won’t, march up to the bitches’ BMW who by this time has locked herself in the car and is shitting in her designer pants. I calmly tap on the window, which she finally rolls down a crack and I say in my sweetest voice, “My dear, I want you to go home tonight and get down on your knees and thank the good lord above you have some man to leech off. In fact, I’d suggest a blow job while you’re down there, because you could not survive one motherfucking day in my world.” Hey! That felt kinda good remembering those days. Mayhaps there’s something to this shit after all.
Oh! Now I’m on a roll—I gotta call all mah bitches just to say ‘hey,’ but here’s a parting thought. Claire was about in 4th grade and was having a friend over to play. Her friend looked around and said, “Where’s your T.V.” And my sweet little girl gave a shrug and simply said, “In the Pawn Shop.’ Like, duh.
Well, what a strange and different missive from the Psychopathic Paralegal, I must say. So if you can explain how all this shit got started and—well, fuck! You hardly ever mention your daughter, so what is the deal? Colour me all kinda confused.
* And that’s something else that bugs the piss outta me. “Oh, you’re going to have a new baby brother or sister! Isn’t that exciting?” yeah, right, mom. How about if Dad came home and said, “Oh, Honey, guess what! I’m bringing home a younger girl and you will have to share all your toys and vie for my attention, and she’ll get all in your stuff and isn’t that wonderful?! Aren’t you excited???!! Fucking fuck that fucking shit. I actually saw my psycho neighbor kid—about 5 or 6 years old [years ago—where the fuck are you Douglas Bence?] try to actually cut off his little baby brother’s head with a pair of hedge clippers. Dude, I kid you not.
Nancy W. Kappes
Paralegal (at least for now until these women come with axes, torches and rakes. Or an explanation.)
Okay, it’s me again. Just wanted to clarify that I do have a mommy blog, I talk about my kid probably too much, and my name is not “Jennifer Ariel Louise Lawson” but now I’m kind of considering changing it because it totally sings. Also, Nancy W. Kappes is insane and also kind of my hero.