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Where I come from "French Whore" is a dignified title!

Since my parents split up, my mom started to got to these divorce groups.

Now, I'm not an expert on this sort of shit, but does anybody smell meet market?

Perhaps "meat" market, even?

Anyways, my mom loves them. The help her so I encourage her to go. Problem is, is that she's slowly starting to flake out on me.

First I saw her wearing this gen thing around her neck.

"What the hell's that?" pointing to the big, ugly green thing.

"That's my strength gem. It gives me strength when I need it."

How am I suppose to reply to that? I just looked at her for a moment and said "Yeah, I wear one too when I'm too lazy to go to the gym."

Next, she talked about one of the groups she had where she had to write a poem on how she loves herself.

She got all excited and said "I think I have it with me! I should read it to you!!"

"A delicate flower, such as I. Cannot be stepped apon, by your drunken foot. For I am much more stronger than you'll ever....Jonathan, stop laughing!!!"

Next I saw something on her arm. "What the hell's this?"

"We were doing body paint." she said.

And now I got this email from her telling me she was in a drum circle the other night.

What the fuck? Drum circle?

How much longer can I let this go by before she quits her job and smokes pot all day? I've seen it happen. If I see one Phish poster go up in her house, I'm gonna' pull her out of this group and send her on and Outward Bound thing for troubled kids.

This aside, my mom's is doing real well. I asked her if she's met and dudes and she says "Yeah, a couple guys have asked me out."

"Oh really! You little French whore! Tell me about them."

"Watch you language, Jonathan. Well, one's a pharmacist. The other is a lawyer. The lawyer is really cute. He gets all nervous around me. He was going through his wallet to give me his number and dropped all his cards."

"WELL HOT DANG! There might be and inheritance in my future after all. Hey, did ya get a look at the cards? See any gold?"

"Jonathan!"

"You're right. That was crass. What kind a car does he drive?"

"Beamer."

"YES!"

"Well, he hasn't asked me out yet. He's too shy."

"Ask him. Just say 'Hey, wanna hang out sometime?' "

"Oh, I couldn't say that."

"Sure you could. That way, if you were wrong about him, and he doesn't really like you, you can say 'I only meant to hang out as friends! God, what's your problem? Get over yourself. Asshole."

"He'll ask me out when he's ready."

That's tellin' 'em moms.

Funny thing happened tonight. I cut some dude off in traffic. He rolled his window down and yelled "Your mother's a whore!"

And I, in a furor, rolled down my window and yelled back "She can't help it, she's French! What's YOUR mom's excuse?"

God I love that woman for putting up with me for all those years. Especially during those years when I was immature, and rash.

Mom. The dignified man I am today (picks ass with index finger) I owe all to you.

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