Allow Me to Introduce: Mama S.

I fucking love my mom. For a lot of reasons. Some are obvious: she carried me around IN HER BODY for 9 months and then pushed me OUT OF HER BODY and then put up with my shit as a dumb baby, annoying toddler and asshole teenager. She continues to put up with my shit as a semi-self-sustaining adult and only pressures me to have babies like, once every few months. Could be worse.

Other reasons why I love my mom aren’t so obvious. But they’re hilarious.

My mom is really technologically advanced for a mom. She’s on Facebook and Twitter and we regularly have text/BBM convos. But the best part is that even though she uses all this technology, she still does cute mom stuff with it. For example:

She doesn’t like to text and drive. Which is good, because it lessens the chance of her dying and shit. But instead of simply waiting until she arrives at her destination to write me back, she feels the need to inform me that she is driving and cannot talk. And she does this by simply mashing a bunch of buttons and hitting send.

Me: So whenever you’re ready to Skype, I’m good to go.
Mom: Bghfghjjh
Me: Driving. Gotcha.

The other day she randomly BBMed me the lyrics to Like a G6.

Mom: Feeling so fly like a G6. Slizzard. I like that word. Still need to know what G6 means.
Me: Gangbang.
Mom: Noooooo…I had to ask. Damn.
Me: KIDDING, it’s them saying they’re even more fly than a G4 jet.
Mom: You jerk. You got me.
Me: I have to keep the upper hand on you when it comes to pop culture at least somewhat, shit…
Mom: Good luck with that. I’m a bit of a hipster.

This blog makes a lot more sense to you all now, doesn’t it?



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s