Another reason why I love my momma 

Because every time some fool who can’t be bothered to:

  • like any of my photos, 
  • say something nice in my time of grieving, 
  • send a thank-you card or 
  • otherwise give a shit that I’m still alive 

But who can jump down my throat at the merest insinuation that Donald Trump is not our savior …

And not even on my wall but rather in someone else’s feed which was where I was playing with the smart people …

Well. 

Sorry not sorry, but I have to defriend ya. 

Mom is pissed. This happens often. Last week it was someone destroying me because I was thinking about all the nice girls I met at a rally eight years ago … And I hoped they are happy and well. 

But sure. If that’s anti-Trump and you’re offended, bring back my friend and go take her place on the other side. Please. 

Anyway.

Momma is like, these fuckers aren’t your fathers. And even if they were, fuck them for crapping on things that are important to you. 

It happens off Facebook too. I get to hear opinions I didn’t invite because I wasn’t offering my own. I can only smile so much in a damn day, you know. 

I asked mom if I were wrong in offering a thoughtful opinion like, say, Trump rallying his fans to perchance use their second amendment rights to justify, oh, violence against his opponent is not funny

Literally. That was my comment. I don’t find it funny. 

Burn me at the stake, why don’t ya. Maybe that was the era that America was so great. 

In any event, mom tells me I’m smart and well-read and have my own mind and I use it. Oh, and did she mention fuck them? Because, fuck them. 

I wish my mom were healthy and could live forever. Because the world needs more of her and fewer non-friends who treat my very neutral comments as a reason to crap on me like I’m their personal litterbox. 

Don’t mess with my momma, fuckers. Because then I will really be about to throw down. 

Peace out, losers. 

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