.
every since getting back from my "holiday" wink. wink. things have been kind of off and on. i feel like i have been on a ferris wheel that the axle rod...a rod? needles? what? is about to pop and the whole thing is going to holy rollin' down the boardwalk into the streets of wildwood. i love cotton candy and caramel corn. nothing is worse than losin' a limb on the boardwalk...actually, maybe getting an STD from the mexican dishwasher, gil that you ride the 552 with each morning. it is hard to have fucking willpower when his mom makes the most bangin' empanadas. oh shit. i can smell the ground beef and sazon in his hair...hmmm papi....well, i turned 37 about a week ago...on the heels of being released from rehab...when the cape may county police found me with my d&g jeans around my ankles in a pool of diet red bull and vodka on the washington mall behind the ugly mug... it was time for me to be shipped off to promises in malibu in cali by JLC ..i spent almost a month sorting thru my demons with jcrew, lacoste, kettle one, and a man that i would like to settle down with and have 14 babies with... wash his shit stained fruit of the looms and every night have a rump roast ready every night at 6 when he rolls in from the train hot off the streets of madison avenue..the last part is a bit of a stretch...more like the shell station around the corner where he pumps gas. i also came face to face or is place to place? or is race in space? or fuck is it rice n beans..i still am comin' off the methadone...sorry for the sand and fog... i grew up poor and i was born not with a silver spoon in my mouth but more like a spork from wendys eattin' only off the dollar menu...there is just so much chili and bake potatoes one girl can eat before she ends up being called miss piggy or worse....hey are you in the macys thanksgiving day parade or are you a statistic?...a teenage pregnant girl....i thought it was a great idea when this black boy, big nig from camden asked me to get off in millville and smoke some crank....i did not know i would wake up 7 days later wandering around the dollar general with a bottle of outdated miracle whip and no frills shampoo in my hands with my iphone battery dead on arrival...really, i just want to go back to my old job pushing shopping carts at the north cape may acme..really? really, i want to try to go back into beauty school in the spring. i always dreamed of doing updos for weddings and bringing in my famous jello mold during the holidays for all the other beyatches...and standing around mr. coffee talking about how we pray the loans come thru for the new double wides....BUT, i don't wanna be that kind of girl...who says...why me? what if? why did you fuck my man, ma? i should be thankful for my beautiful blue eyes and i am glad my dad only beat with his belt and didn't come sneakin' in the back door for a bit of milk in the middle of the night. so, i am 4 days clean and sober....the clown make up is fading and the bearded lady is whistling womanizer....i hope that my valentine brings me a bottle of britney's perfume, believe on saturday...and i hope i don't have a repeat of last year when i woke up on a fishing boat off the coast of wildwood with two dirty scallop fisherman and a woman named jo. actually, once i was so high on redi whipped cream gases, i played a game of crazy 8's with my mr. coffee. caffeine free craisins and bananas in the raw.
DON'T JUDGE ME.
DON'T HATE ON ME.
I AM NOT PLAYA HATA.
I AM JUST A POOR JERSEY GIRL.
take that bon jovi and turn that into a summer classic.
