Mother’s Day?? WTF is THAT??

When I saw the amount of love expressed on that ‘true’ illustrious media form that is Facebook, I hung my head in sorrowful self pity, I’ll be honest. 

There would be no surprise dinners with mother for me, no pictures of us sat around a roast with party hats on & no unexpected bouquet of flowers for me to bestow with a surprise ‘voila’ at her doorstep.

My memories of my mum when I was young are scarce and very far in between. 

  

Intimate talks are a miss and words of ‘I Love You’ are yet to be recalled.

I don’t have memories of happy summer holidays.

 
I have nightmares about blood, knives and ambulance sirens instead.  

My mum didn’t win the parent’s egg and spoon race or bake a big cake for the Harvest Festival; she did one better and tried to kill my step-dad in broad daylight. . . Twice.  

My childhood consisted of being very different.  

I was a child of the Dev, raised on the stale fumes and shadowed light of the Off-Sales hatch and seduced by the occasional pacifying bottle of R Whites Lemonade and a bag of KP Salted Peanuts.
 

My mam spent more time in Bridge Street than she did with me.

 
And all for the sake of a fucking man.... Who I might add, took every opportunity to remind us that I wasn’t his.

Makes no wonder that I’m single eh? 

Happy Fucking Mothers Day.

Why Salt’n’Pepa are the best sex-eds ever.

Who knows better to advise females of the pitfalls and perils of the man jungle than Salt’n’Pepa? 

A trio of strong women who took the issue of sex, owned it and all without getting naked in the process.

Now, I don’t mess about having woeful and uncomfortable ‘sex talks’ with my 12 year-old daughter.  

God knows, I’ve already mentally scarred her with my incessant and highly candid seminars on men, STD’s, Domestic Violence, Rape, The variety of videos you can get in Amsterdam, Birth Control and FGM.

So what I do now, to save everyone's blushes, is to let Spinderella spin it up one time. 

 

Tramp 

Home girls attention you must pay, so listen close to what I say,

  

Don’t take this as a simple rhyme because this type of thing happens all the time. 

  

Now, what would you do if a stranger said Hi?  Would you diss him or would you reply?

If you answer, there is a chance that you become a victim of circumstance.

Am I right fellas?  Tell the truth. . .  Or else I’m a have to show and prove,

You are what you are, I am what I am. 

  

It just so happens that most men are tramps. ;) 

Have you ever seen a dude who’s stupid and rude, whenever he’s around he dogs your mood?

  

I know a guy like that girl, he thinks he’s god’s gift to the world.

  

You know that kind, excited ALL the time with nothing BUT sex on the mind.

  

I’m no stunt, on me you can’t front, I know the real deal, I know what they want.

  

On the first date, he thought I was a dummy, he had the nerve to tell me he loved me.

  

But of course, I knew he was a liar, he undressed me with his eyeballs. 

  

Trying to change the whole subject coz everything he said pertained to sex.

  

So I dissed him, I said ‘You’re a sucker, get your dirty mind out the gutter.’

  

‘You ain’t getting paid, you ain’t knocking boots, you ain’t treating me like no prostitute.’

  

Then I walked away, he called me a teaser.

  

‘You’re on a mission kid.’ 

  

Yo, he’s a tramp.