Editor’s Note: This crazy banter was written in Bullhead City, AZ. I decided to Bullhaed City of this year and some friends agreed to meet me at a vacation house my mom squats at. I think…think my friends had some contributions to it. But to keep with original mood and right ways of thinking, it has not been edited for clarity, grammar, or sense. And was not actually sent to my mother, but should have.
Dear mom,
I found found drugs in your night stand along with used condoms.
Rob brought his dog Cisqo he shit all over the hallway walls and I can’t get the stains out.
I would like to say I am very disappointed in you that you only have on giannt tin of coffee that taastes like burrow piss filtered through sawdust. You have absolutely no taste in coffee beans.
I have been streaming quicktime fag porn on some public wireless account through Laughlin Ranch.
Upon arrival I found a 20something year old negro (possibly ex con) rooting around in the garage. For the record it wasn’t any of us who tried to saw through the club affixed to jerry’s ford and then kick out the windows in frustration for not being able to cappuccino cruize that tits ride to Laughlin to reverse sixty nine some sweet haggle bandit pooty tang post rodeo jubilee. The negro overpowered us and forced us to drink the pills you left for us in your nightstand at breakneck speed while cannonball the goods with that warm chianti in the pantry. He proceeded to invite his friends who break dance fought in the living room and did lines of blow off of the bbq in the back while saying “you see that fucking blue building over yonder? King of the tri county motha fuckas.” we shat ourselves.
We found Charlie the interveted cat, he’s here and speaking to us with Carlos Castneda, on a missionary position. He’s healthy but has the mange.
I began to ripping up the carpet in your bedroom because I kept seeing smoke raising…I neve found the sourcce of it. I have been shittting brown water I am sick, very ill and need to be treated. I borrowed a typewriter from a doctor at the riverfront hospital for my note.
you and your friends are depraved heathens that deserve to walk the trail of tears in cowboy boots.