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The No Sass Zone!

That's not my mama! That's your mama!

Created on 2001-06-05 14:34:30 (#166688), last updated 2005-06-30

156 comments received, 440 comments posted

Basic Info
Name:Your Mom
Birthdate:04-04
Location:Alexandria, Louisiana, United States
Bio
"A Guide To Manipulating The Junior Staff Photographer Into Sex With Your Old, Sorry Ass"
from 101 Common Scenarios You Need To Be Prepared For!

Hey--I'm glad you came. Sit down. Don't take the mints--they're for the children. Alright, listen--I wanted to talk to you about these photographs. These. Right here. I know you took them.

Listen, Todd, I know you think you're an artist or whatever but seriously these are ridiculous. I mean I guess there's some hidden artsy meaning in black and white pictures of parapalegic grandmothers playing poker with midgets. Maybe I'm just not deep enough to get it. I don't know. But between you and me they're stupid. I just haven't got a nice thing to say about them. I really wish I did. I wish I could say I think your career is going somewhere and that you have some hidden talent that's just not palpable to the average citizen. I'd like to tell you that even though the meaning may be elusive, there's a quiet grace in the still silence of inaction that you seem to capture so well.

But I'd be bullshitting you. Seriously. I'd be lying through my botox.

As your friend and editor it's my job to cut straight through the donkyflop and tell you the truth. Sit back down--I'm not done yet!

I know things have been kind of shitty since Rita left. I know the worst part is that she left you to take up with a veterinary student who has the same passion for animal sex that she does. But you can't blame her. The bitch was just plum crazy! She likes dogs better than you. Stop crying! I don't mean to throw it all in your face but stop being such a pathetic whining jackass! It was two weeks ago, for God's sake!

Yeah, we're done. Listen, if you need someone to talk to I'm here. You have my phone number? Great. While we're on the subject, Todd, I wish you'd call me more often. I really kind of like you. I mean I guess you get lonely. And then there's the feeling of sickness everytime you think about Rita having sex witha basset hound or whatever.

Look, I'm going to do you a favor. How does a raise sound? Good. Lock the door.
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