Redneck Mom and me… BFF’s!

   I used to be entertained most days by the crackheads that lived in the two houses across the street from me and next to me. Unfortunately, before I had a chance to name any of them, they were all evicted. I guess meth just isn’t selling like it used to be. That was years ago. Since then my neighborhood has been a little quiet.
   Thank god Redneck Mom moved in with her herd of children, I had nothing to be moody and snarky about.
    Are you ready for a Monday morning rant?
   Every morning, between seven and seven thirty Red Neck Mom is in front of my house in sweat pants and slippers, inhaling a cigarette or ten while sunglasses cover her hooded eyes from the sweet, sweet spring sunshine. Then she coughs up some phlegm,  and in that raspy smokers Stevie Nicks voice she will scream at her little band of hoodlums
   “Get out of the fucking road!”
    “Rhianna! Get the fuck over here!”
    “Keisha! Stop kicking that fucking gopher!”
     Do all red neck mom’s name their kids after soon to be one hit wonder R and B singers?          
      Thank god this pop singer kid name just now began or I could have been named Madonna or Sade or Gloria Estafan (Not a good name for a little Jewish girl who loves My Little Ponies in ghetto Norwalk, California, circa 1980)
   Sorry for the profanity in this post, but this is what I hear EVERY MORNING. I get up at six every morning now. What’s the point of trying to sleep in? It’s really not relaxing to awaken to the sound of rape music blaring from Redneck Mom’s cell phone. What is this world coming to when even those on EBT can afford Smart Phones? Can you pay your phone bill with government assistance?  
     ” Gotye put down the fucking gopher!” as I lay in my bed that faces the street.
    It is admirable that at least Redneck Mom tries to be a good parent as she follows her herd of children to the bus stop every morning, a cloud of second hand smoke enveloping her and her children. Of course maybe she does it so her children will stop throwing gophers at cars. This used to upset me; until last week. I awoke one morning to find that over night my basil and columbines had been eaten. Damn Italian gophers. Let the kids throw those little buck toothed assholes at cars. Keeps them out of my yard.
    Well, I have some bad news. Had to say goodbye to Redneck Mom for the summer. Friday was the last day of school, so no more “Fuck this and that” sunrise wake up calls from Red Neck Mom. You mean I can actually sit on my porch in the morning and enjoy the peace and quiet of the mountains without breathing in second hand smoke and watching the effects of drugs?
   Yea for summer time!

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