Hey Friends,
Starla and I had nodded off in the recliner when a knock at the trailer door frightened us awake. I had been dreaming of performing at a real concert venue (instead of playing the local VFW on Bingo night...or Fish Fry Fridays) but all that disappeared in a flash when those knuckles hit that faux wood door.
Still a bit on edge from escaping Cain's baby mill/slave camp, I grabbed my gun and hid it in the front pocket of my powder blue hoodie. I stood by the door and without opening it, said forcefully:
"Who goes there?! Who the fuck goes there?"
There was silence. Not to be fucked with, I insisted:
"Tell me who the fuck you are or I'll blow a hole in your head so big you could fist it!"
I heard a quiet and incredibly nervous male voice say: "Is...uh...is Bonnie...I'm...a...I'm looking for Miss Bonnie White."
He sounded young and harmless. I cracked open the door, leaving the chain on. I had to get a good look at this man who was asking for my Mama. He looked to be in his mid-30's, tall--over six foot, broad shouldered, well-dressed in khaki pants and a heavy ski jacket and quite attractive with his dark hair and equally deep, dark eyes. He had a pleasant, thin face and it left me curious as to why someone so assumingly good would want to talk to my foul-mouthed and uber-sassy Mama.
"And who the hell are you?" I softened my tone, and said it in kind of a joking manner.
"I'm...a...my name is Jacob and I...uh...kind of need to speak to her."
"Well, I got bad news for you: Mama lost her memory, so she will have no idea who you are. So, she's not very good company I'm afraid--not that she ever has been! HA!"
"Can I...come in for a moment? I won't stay long, I promise--it's just...well, it's pretty cold out here." His teeth were beginning to chatter. It was pretty fucking cold outside. I stepped aside.
"Welcome. Please come inside my trailer--where did my manners go?"
I helped him off with his jacket. He was wearing a nice sweater underneath.
"Can I get you some refreshments? Water, Faygo, Coors Light?"
He smiled, "Water sounds great, thank you."
I went to the kitchen and got a beer for myself--then put it back when I remembered that I promised not to drink with this pregnancy. I decided to just pour the guy and myself a glass of water--even though water didn't get me drunk.
I handed him a glass. "Here you are--the glass is a collector's item from McDonald's. It was part of their Disney series. See, my glass has Cinderella on it." I stopped myself; I sounded like an idiot. I couldn't help it--he was SO cute! "Anyway, let me go get Mama."
Mama was sitting on her bed, brushing her long hair. Rather than tease it into a frantic mess like usual, she was brushing it long and straight. She looked younger, actually. Funny.
"Mama, some guy is here to see you."
She snorted. "What the hell does that mean? I'm not going to know him from a hole in the wall. What's the use? Tell him to hit the bricks."
I leaned in the doorway. "It's late and it's cold outside. I'll let him warm up a bit before I throw him back on the streets. Plus, he's really cute--and he seems nice. Come out and talk to him. What the hell else do you have going on in your exciting life?"
She shrugged. "You have a point." She then jumped down off the bed and padded out into the living room.
"Who the hell are you?" She asked.
He stood. "I'm...I'm Jacob. Are you Bonnie White?"
She hopped up on the couch and faced him. "I guess so--at least, that's what this one told me." She was motioning to me. "I lost my damn memory, so I don't know shit from shinola. So, I'm afraid to say I will have no idea who you are."
Jacob was so nervous I was on edge. I had to break the tension because it was just irritating.
"Hey, Jacob--what's your deal? You are more fidgety than a bulemic at a bake sale."
He closed his eyes for a moment and then said:
"My father just died. He was a pastor at a Baptist church just outside Lapeer. Well, right before he died, he told me that the woman I grew up believing was my mother was actually not my real mother. She was my step-mother, who adopted me at birth. He said my real mother was his ex-wife, who left him as soon as I was born. I was left behind, Papa raised me. He was a good man, but was haunted by a past he'd never discuss. It turns out his previous marriage was short-lived and chaotic and he was left devestated when his wife left him. Bonnie, that wife was you. And that makes me your son, Jacob."
Mama's eyes fluttered a bit, then rolled back in her head. I was too slow (or too entertained), so I wasn't quick enough to catch her before she hit the ground.
Jacob was fast, though, and swooped her off the ground and laid her back on the couch. He touched her face. "Bonnie!" He called. "Bonnie! Are you OK? Bonnie!"
"Move aside," I told him and pushed him out of the way. I took my glass of water and threw it in Mama's face. She sputtered, sprayed water and then sat up, blinking water out of her eyelashes.
"You bitch!" She spat.
"It woke you up, didn't it?"
She shook her head, dazed. "I'm sorry, Jacob, your news just...hit me...like Ike Turner on a PCP binge."
"She doesn't remember me, but she remembers Ike Turner," I quipped from my recliner. "And his drug problems."
"Shut it, you tramp!" Mama shot back. "Now, Jacob, this is all rather hard to believe. And how do I know you're telling the truth? What if you're trying to get money out of me? What if you're some kind of grifter?"
I laughed. "He's after your collection of bingo dobbers, that must be it."
"I could have riches! How do you know? I could have been shoveling money away all these years."
Jacob, eyes filled with sincerity, said: "No, ma'am, I'm not here for money. I'm no liar and I am no...grifter. I guess when my Papa died, it just left a...a hole in me. And my first reaction was to find you--my mother, my real mother. You see, my step-mom, Judy, well, she and I never saw eye-to-eye. Perhaps it was because she always knew I wasn't hers biologically, but she was distant. And one day, I came home and...well, she was being taken out by the paramedics. She had...killed herself."
Mama gasped.
"So, I'm...kind of an orphan now. Or I was, until Papa told me the truth. Now I realize I'm not alone. I have a mother and she's alive and well."
"Barely," I chimed in.
"Hush yourself!" Mama yelled. "It seems I have one decent, upstanding child on this Earth, which is more than I can say for you or that tranny Cunt Face!"
Jacob's eyes widened, with shock and confusion. "What's a...tranny?"
"Never mind," Mama replied. "Trasha, can Jacob stay? I want him to tell me all about himself. I want to get to know the son I never knew I had."
"You didn't know you had your nipples pierced--of course you didn't know you had a long-lost son!"
Mama glared, but I let her have her way. I invited Jacob to stay. After finding out he is my half-brother, my attraction to him hasn't wavered. I never knew him and he isn't my FULL brother. I mean, it wouldn't be like fucking Cunt Face or something. All we share is DNA and I don't know about him, but I'm up for a roll in the hay. I'd even let him do anal on me!
Love,
Trasha
God Bless DuPont Pharmaceuticals!
Hey Friends,
God bless DuPont Pharmaceuticals. It is by their grace that I've been able to cope with this ordeal. But to be fair to this baby I'm carrying, I only took half the dosage I normally gobble. And I washed it down with WATER, not Coors Light. See, I can turn over a new leaf after all! I'm not giving up my cigs for this baby--hell to the NO. I've actually doubled-up on the Virginia Slims to calm my nerves, which are understandably frayed at the moment.
Shonda is gone--she has decided to cooperate with the police and is now in Witness Protection. I told her she could take all the credit for freeing the women trapped in Cain's sex camp, but to PLEASE keep my name out of everything she tells the cops. She said understood--she is afraid, so she gets it. However, it's not fear that is driving my motives, it is the bigger picture that I see, that I ALWAYS see.
In an effort to get back to normal, everyday life, I watched Judge Judy, played Bingo and did some singing. I felt like I was going through the motions, though. My whole life has been turned upside down and only Jesus knows how long it will take me to get back to how I was.
Mama has been providing some much-needed comic relief, though. She was screaming from the bathroom: "I thought I was wearing toe rings and then I realized it was just my tits sagging to the ground! I have pierced nipples?!"
Starla and I had a good laugh over that one. Too bad she was too young to understand what was going on, but when I laughed, she laughed. It would have been nice if Cunt Face was around to join in the fun, but she is off doing her tranny stuff. Those trannies are so self-absorbed.
Ah, Starla and I are fixing to watch Golden Girls. I'll write more later.
Love,
Trasha
God bless DuPont Pharmaceuticals. It is by their grace that I've been able to cope with this ordeal. But to be fair to this baby I'm carrying, I only took half the dosage I normally gobble. And I washed it down with WATER, not Coors Light. See, I can turn over a new leaf after all! I'm not giving up my cigs for this baby--hell to the NO. I've actually doubled-up on the Virginia Slims to calm my nerves, which are understandably frayed at the moment.
Shonda is gone--she has decided to cooperate with the police and is now in Witness Protection. I told her she could take all the credit for freeing the women trapped in Cain's sex camp, but to PLEASE keep my name out of everything she tells the cops. She said understood--she is afraid, so she gets it. However, it's not fear that is driving my motives, it is the bigger picture that I see, that I ALWAYS see.
In an effort to get back to normal, everyday life, I watched Judge Judy, played Bingo and did some singing. I felt like I was going through the motions, though. My whole life has been turned upside down and only Jesus knows how long it will take me to get back to how I was.
Mama has been providing some much-needed comic relief, though. She was screaming from the bathroom: "I thought I was wearing toe rings and then I realized it was just my tits sagging to the ground! I have pierced nipples?!"
Starla and I had a good laugh over that one. Too bad she was too young to understand what was going on, but when I laughed, she laughed. It would have been nice if Cunt Face was around to join in the fun, but she is off doing her tranny stuff. Those trannies are so self-absorbed.
Ah, Starla and I are fixing to watch Golden Girls. I'll write more later.
Love,
Trasha
I'm Home [Part Five]
Hey Friends,
I looked around the room we were being held captive for items I could use to exact my revenge and help to free everyone. I noticed an area that had maternity scrubs hanging up on a rack.
Hanging on wire hangers.
The light bulb in my brain went off and I told Shonda of my plan. She thought I was crazier than bat shit, but I asked her again to trust me. She said she did and I put my plan into action.
I found a dark space, out of eyesight of the guards and sat patiently. One by one, Shonda sent a different woman to me. I had to work fast and I had to work unnoticed, so precision was a must. Like the pro I was, I systematically aborted every pregnant woman. I used an empty bucket to hold the fetus' and once I was done, I motioned to Shonda.
"I need you to cause a commotion so that the guards come near me, but not so they can see me. Got it?"
She nodded and then sprang to action. She doubled-over, grabbing her stomach and started wailing.
"I'm losing the baby! I'm losing the baby!"
Sure enough, guards rushed over to her, in a frenzy. They grabbed her arms and tried to carry her away but she went limp and heavy, anchoring them to that very spot.
I shouted: "Hey, fuck faces!" They turned, looked at me (hiding in the shadows) and then collectively they charged toward me.
I lifted the bucket o' babies and threw the lot of it right into their faces. They were clawing at their eyes and began flinging off the placenta, blood and body parts they were covered in. During the may lay, Shonda grabbed a ring of keys from a distracted guard.
I had already manipulated a wire hanger into a set of pseudo claws and began slashing at the guards, aiming for the eyes like my Mama taught me. I took them all on and one by one and watched as they fell to their knees, screaming.
Shonda was rounding up the women and had opened one of the emergency exits. Fresh cold winter air streamed in and en mass, we ran away from what turned out to be an abandoned factory.
I knew there were women still inside, in the "rape ward", but the authorities would later save them. We ran until our legs nearly gave out. We approached a highway, where a trucker pulled to the side of the road to help the stream of women, bleeding from the crotch, dressed in hospital clothes.
The trucker, who turned out to be a regular of mine, radioed the Canadian police, who arrived in no time. A caravan of ambulances were next and the women were loaded into them and brought to the hospital. Only Shonda and myself decided not to go. We wanted to see the other women freed. And they were.
"What about you, Trasha?" Shonda asked me. "Why didn't you abort your own baby?"
I touched my womb. "Well, Shonda. I have learned over the many, many years I've been on this planet that a women needs to hold on to any bargaining chip they have and this baby I'm carrying...well, let's just say I think it's one of the best investments my pussy could have made."
"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.
"Oh, Shonda--a woman needs to hold her cards close to the vest. You'll find out, in time."
And so we traveled back to Michigan and I told Shonda she could stay with us again. She needed a place to stay and after everything we had just been through, how could I say no? She saved those women just as much as I did. We were sisters now.
So here I am, back in my trailer, trying to regain the energy I lost. Cunt Face, Mama and Starla were all so happy to see me and as we speak, Starla is sitting on my lap. I can't help but hate myself for selling her on the black market and now I see that she had gone through the same baby mill I was held captive at. To think of Starla in that place just kills me.
But I can't think of that now. The trouble in my life is far from over. This is just the beginning and I pray we all make it out of this nightmare alive and well.
Love,
Trasha
I looked around the room we were being held captive for items I could use to exact my revenge and help to free everyone. I noticed an area that had maternity scrubs hanging up on a rack.
Hanging on wire hangers.
The light bulb in my brain went off and I told Shonda of my plan. She thought I was crazier than bat shit, but I asked her again to trust me. She said she did and I put my plan into action.
I found a dark space, out of eyesight of the guards and sat patiently. One by one, Shonda sent a different woman to me. I had to work fast and I had to work unnoticed, so precision was a must. Like the pro I was, I systematically aborted every pregnant woman. I used an empty bucket to hold the fetus' and once I was done, I motioned to Shonda.
"I need you to cause a commotion so that the guards come near me, but not so they can see me. Got it?"
She nodded and then sprang to action. She doubled-over, grabbing her stomach and started wailing.
"I'm losing the baby! I'm losing the baby!"
Sure enough, guards rushed over to her, in a frenzy. They grabbed her arms and tried to carry her away but she went limp and heavy, anchoring them to that very spot.
I shouted: "Hey, fuck faces!" They turned, looked at me (hiding in the shadows) and then collectively they charged toward me.
I lifted the bucket o' babies and threw the lot of it right into their faces. They were clawing at their eyes and began flinging off the placenta, blood and body parts they were covered in. During the may lay, Shonda grabbed a ring of keys from a distracted guard.
I had already manipulated a wire hanger into a set of pseudo claws and began slashing at the guards, aiming for the eyes like my Mama taught me. I took them all on and one by one and watched as they fell to their knees, screaming.
Shonda was rounding up the women and had opened one of the emergency exits. Fresh cold winter air streamed in and en mass, we ran away from what turned out to be an abandoned factory.
I knew there were women still inside, in the "rape ward", but the authorities would later save them. We ran until our legs nearly gave out. We approached a highway, where a trucker pulled to the side of the road to help the stream of women, bleeding from the crotch, dressed in hospital clothes.
The trucker, who turned out to be a regular of mine, radioed the Canadian police, who arrived in no time. A caravan of ambulances were next and the women were loaded into them and brought to the hospital. Only Shonda and myself decided not to go. We wanted to see the other women freed. And they were.
"What about you, Trasha?" Shonda asked me. "Why didn't you abort your own baby?"
I touched my womb. "Well, Shonda. I have learned over the many, many years I've been on this planet that a women needs to hold on to any bargaining chip they have and this baby I'm carrying...well, let's just say I think it's one of the best investments my pussy could have made."
"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.
"Oh, Shonda--a woman needs to hold her cards close to the vest. You'll find out, in time."
And so we traveled back to Michigan and I told Shonda she could stay with us again. She needed a place to stay and after everything we had just been through, how could I say no? She saved those women just as much as I did. We were sisters now.
So here I am, back in my trailer, trying to regain the energy I lost. Cunt Face, Mama and Starla were all so happy to see me and as we speak, Starla is sitting on my lap. I can't help but hate myself for selling her on the black market and now I see that she had gone through the same baby mill I was held captive at. To think of Starla in that place just kills me.
But I can't think of that now. The trouble in my life is far from over. This is just the beginning and I pray we all make it out of this nightmare alive and well.
Love,
Trasha
I'm Home [Part Four]
Hey Friends,
Shonda and I were woken by the guards early the next morning. They sprayed us down with freezing cold water from a hose and once we were sitting up, alert and soaked to the bone, they threw two pregnancy tests at us.
"Good luck," Joked one of the guards and then he and the rest moved down the line to the next cell.
We sat in our cots, shivering. Me, from the cold, but Shonda seemed to be quaking with fear. We looked at the pregnancy tests lying on the ground then looked at each other.
"What are we gonna do, Trasha? What if they come back negative?! I don't want to get raped again--I can't! I'll kill myself first!"
Her eyes were blazing--I knew she was serious. I picked up the tests and told her my scheme:
"Listen, this womb of mine is with child, I just know it. I will take both of the tests for us so we can get the hell out of here. Keep watch!"
I squatted over the 10 gallon bucket we were forced to use as a toilet and peed on both tests. I quickly handed one to Shonda, pulled up my pants and sat back down on my cot.
A few minutes later, a guard came to collect the tests. We each handed ours to him through the bars and he looked down at them then back at us. Seconds later, he grabbed his key ring and opened our door. We were pulled out, forcefully and then he yelled:
"We got a couple of Cows here! Come on, ladies, it's time for you to join the rest of the herd."
We were pushed out of the main jail area and lead down a darkly-lit corridor. When I was able to hear the sound of babies crying, I knew we were close to our destination.
Shonda's promises of a nicer area for the mothers and mothers-to-be were false: it was the same kind of squalor we just left, except there were babies! There were women everywhere--at least twenty--in various stages of pregnancy, but they all had infants at their breast, in their arms or nearby. Cain was running a full-fledged baby factory and we were the newest additions to the crew.
A guard shoved a newborn into my arms: "Here!" He yelled. "Feed it!" I was also given a bottle with murky formula. Shonda was also given a baby and a bottle and were found folding chairs where we could sit and feed the children.
"What now?" Shonda whispered, looking at her infant, trying to remain inconspicuous.
"We wait," I answered, in a quiet voice. "I will think of something, I promise."
It was a promise I prayed I could keep. I did everything in my power to stave off the fear that I'd never leave this place alive. After all, this prison or slave camp or whatever it was was being run by men and men were stupid. Women were by far more cunning and evil and I knew it would take a woman to free the rest.
And I was that woman. I just knew it.
[To Be continued...]
Love,
Trasha
Shonda and I were woken by the guards early the next morning. They sprayed us down with freezing cold water from a hose and once we were sitting up, alert and soaked to the bone, they threw two pregnancy tests at us.
"Good luck," Joked one of the guards and then he and the rest moved down the line to the next cell.
We sat in our cots, shivering. Me, from the cold, but Shonda seemed to be quaking with fear. We looked at the pregnancy tests lying on the ground then looked at each other.
"What are we gonna do, Trasha? What if they come back negative?! I don't want to get raped again--I can't! I'll kill myself first!"
Her eyes were blazing--I knew she was serious. I picked up the tests and told her my scheme:
"Listen, this womb of mine is with child, I just know it. I will take both of the tests for us so we can get the hell out of here. Keep watch!"
I squatted over the 10 gallon bucket we were forced to use as a toilet and peed on both tests. I quickly handed one to Shonda, pulled up my pants and sat back down on my cot.
A few minutes later, a guard came to collect the tests. We each handed ours to him through the bars and he looked down at them then back at us. Seconds later, he grabbed his key ring and opened our door. We were pulled out, forcefully and then he yelled:
"We got a couple of Cows here! Come on, ladies, it's time for you to join the rest of the herd."
We were pushed out of the main jail area and lead down a darkly-lit corridor. When I was able to hear the sound of babies crying, I knew we were close to our destination.
Shonda's promises of a nicer area for the mothers and mothers-to-be were false: it was the same kind of squalor we just left, except there were babies! There were women everywhere--at least twenty--in various stages of pregnancy, but they all had infants at their breast, in their arms or nearby. Cain was running a full-fledged baby factory and we were the newest additions to the crew.
A guard shoved a newborn into my arms: "Here!" He yelled. "Feed it!" I was also given a bottle with murky formula. Shonda was also given a baby and a bottle and were found folding chairs where we could sit and feed the children.
"What now?" Shonda whispered, looking at her infant, trying to remain inconspicuous.
"We wait," I answered, in a quiet voice. "I will think of something, I promise."
It was a promise I prayed I could keep. I did everything in my power to stave off the fear that I'd never leave this place alive. After all, this prison or slave camp or whatever it was was being run by men and men were stupid. Women were by far more cunning and evil and I knew it would take a woman to free the rest.
And I was that woman. I just knew it.
[To Be continued...]
Love,
Trasha
I'm Home [Part Three]
Hey Friends,
Once Shonda and I were alone in her cell and assured that we weren't being spied on by Cain's guards, she began to tell me exactly why all of us women were being held captive there.
"Cain has some business in the black market," Shonda said, quietly. "It's more than drugs--that's just one small part of what he's into. But what he's doing here...with us..." She swallowed hard, as if holding back vomit. "...is making us...have babies for him."
I was confused. "Have babies? Why would he want that?"
"He sells them, Trasha. He sells them on the black market. There is a whole group of them--it's not just Cain. This is bigger than him, there is someone above him running the show. And it's been going on for years...we're both just new to getting caught up in it. He already sold Mar-kay."
I gasped--this shit was no joke.
"Every day," She continued. "we are given pregnancy tests. If you test positive, you are brought to a different part of the building. If you test negative, you are kept here and one of Cain's thugs rapes you so they can impregnate you. I've tested negative every day I've been here and I just can't take another one of Cain's henchmen raping me again! That's why I risked calling you. I know you, if anyone, can stop this."
"Have they done the tests yet today?" I asked, nervous. Perhaps I had already been tested, since I was freshly raped.
She nodded. "Yes...and I've already been raped. That's what they do--they test us, rape us and make us take a shower and then come back here. We'll be tested again tomorrow and I pray to God my test is positive. That will at least get me out of here and with the other Cows."
"Cows? Is that what the pregnant women are called?"
"Yes. The Cows have it much better--lots of food and rest and relaxation. And once the babies start being born, they help nurse and raise them, together. When the babies are old enough, they're taken and sold."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt my womb...I could very well be pregnant; I'm as fertile as the day is long. Plus, I've been having unprotected sex with Cain. It was all making sense now--the rubbers weren't really "too tight" like he said: it was his intention to get me pregnant!
"Well, there's nothing we can do until tomorrow. We should get some sleep. I have a feeling things will work out--just call it women's intuition."
I rubbed my belly and prayed that a fetus was growing within it. I don't think I ever wanted to be with child--ever. I normally cursed my fertile cunt, but now I'm hoping that years of abuse haven't worn it out. I was counting on my pussy and I just knew it wouldn't let me down.
[To Be Continued...]
Love,
Trasha
Once Shonda and I were alone in her cell and assured that we weren't being spied on by Cain's guards, she began to tell me exactly why all of us women were being held captive there.
"Cain has some business in the black market," Shonda said, quietly. "It's more than drugs--that's just one small part of what he's into. But what he's doing here...with us..." She swallowed hard, as if holding back vomit. "...is making us...have babies for him."
I was confused. "Have babies? Why would he want that?"
"He sells them, Trasha. He sells them on the black market. There is a whole group of them--it's not just Cain. This is bigger than him, there is someone above him running the show. And it's been going on for years...we're both just new to getting caught up in it. He already sold Mar-kay."
I gasped--this shit was no joke.
"Every day," She continued. "we are given pregnancy tests. If you test positive, you are brought to a different part of the building. If you test negative, you are kept here and one of Cain's thugs rapes you so they can impregnate you. I've tested negative every day I've been here and I just can't take another one of Cain's henchmen raping me again! That's why I risked calling you. I know you, if anyone, can stop this."
"Have they done the tests yet today?" I asked, nervous. Perhaps I had already been tested, since I was freshly raped.
She nodded. "Yes...and I've already been raped. That's what they do--they test us, rape us and make us take a shower and then come back here. We'll be tested again tomorrow and I pray to God my test is positive. That will at least get me out of here and with the other Cows."
"Cows? Is that what the pregnant women are called?"
"Yes. The Cows have it much better--lots of food and rest and relaxation. And once the babies start being born, they help nurse and raise them, together. When the babies are old enough, they're taken and sold."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt my womb...I could very well be pregnant; I'm as fertile as the day is long. Plus, I've been having unprotected sex with Cain. It was all making sense now--the rubbers weren't really "too tight" like he said: it was his intention to get me pregnant!
"Well, there's nothing we can do until tomorrow. We should get some sleep. I have a feeling things will work out--just call it women's intuition."
I rubbed my belly and prayed that a fetus was growing within it. I don't think I ever wanted to be with child--ever. I normally cursed my fertile cunt, but now I'm hoping that years of abuse haven't worn it out. I was counting on my pussy and I just knew it wouldn't let me down.
[To Be Continued...]
Love,
Trasha
I'm Home [Part Two]
Hey Friends,
When I woke up, I was in a completely dark room. There was the smell of moisture, like I was underground or in a basement of some kind. I heard dripping water and the concrete was so cold--and the room was so cold--that my body was numb. I felt my legs--they were bare. My dress had been torn so I was left naked except for a swatch of fabric over my breasts. I felt my feet--my heels were still on, but one of the heels had broken off. I touched my face--it was freshly bruised and my left eye had closed again. I had been beaten again.
The pain in my crotch told me I'd be raped as well. God, I wished for some clothes and some heat...it was horrible.
Thankfully, it didn't last too long. The door opened and a man came in and pulled me to my feet. I was dragged, stumbling, into a warm, bright hallway. The man was wearing a ski mask, so I couldn't tell what he looked like. He was dressed all in black and was tall and muscular. His hands were huge, leather-clad and tightly gripping my arm.
I was thrown into a shower, a huge room with about thirty other women. I looked around through the steam and realized that every one of these women was connected to Cain somehow. They'd all fallen for the charm and had probably all been sucked in by the power and the money. He sure knew how to sweet a gal off her feet, but look where it had gotten all of us. We were being held captive and only God knows what plans he had for us.
I felt I would find out soon enough.
I showered and as I was rinsing my hair, the water stopped and the door opened. We were herded into a locker room, given towels and a fresh change of clothes. They were like hospital scrubs, cheap material and they were all green. Once dressed, we were herded again into what looked like a cell block in a prison. There were at least 100 cells on three levels and a common area in the middle of the ground floor. We were locked inside and there were several men in black stationed at different points, watching us.
It was while I was looking around, confused, that Shonda found me. She screamed and hugged me. "Trasha, you're here! You came for us--you came to save us!"
I pushed her off. "Enough! God, get off me. What the hell is going on here--what are we up against?"
She looked around, frightened. "Let's go back to my cell and talk. We can't risk them overhearing."
[To Be Continued]
Love,
Trasha
When I woke up, I was in a completely dark room. There was the smell of moisture, like I was underground or in a basement of some kind. I heard dripping water and the concrete was so cold--and the room was so cold--that my body was numb. I felt my legs--they were bare. My dress had been torn so I was left naked except for a swatch of fabric over my breasts. I felt my feet--my heels were still on, but one of the heels had broken off. I touched my face--it was freshly bruised and my left eye had closed again. I had been beaten again.
The pain in my crotch told me I'd be raped as well. God, I wished for some clothes and some heat...it was horrible.
Thankfully, it didn't last too long. The door opened and a man came in and pulled me to my feet. I was dragged, stumbling, into a warm, bright hallway. The man was wearing a ski mask, so I couldn't tell what he looked like. He was dressed all in black and was tall and muscular. His hands were huge, leather-clad and tightly gripping my arm.
I was thrown into a shower, a huge room with about thirty other women. I looked around through the steam and realized that every one of these women was connected to Cain somehow. They'd all fallen for the charm and had probably all been sucked in by the power and the money. He sure knew how to sweet a gal off her feet, but look where it had gotten all of us. We were being held captive and only God knows what plans he had for us.
I felt I would find out soon enough.
I showered and as I was rinsing my hair, the water stopped and the door opened. We were herded into a locker room, given towels and a fresh change of clothes. They were like hospital scrubs, cheap material and they were all green. Once dressed, we were herded again into what looked like a cell block in a prison. There were at least 100 cells on three levels and a common area in the middle of the ground floor. We were locked inside and there were several men in black stationed at different points, watching us.
It was while I was looking around, confused, that Shonda found me. She screamed and hugged me. "Trasha, you're here! You came for us--you came to save us!"
I pushed her off. "Enough! God, get off me. What the hell is going on here--what are we up against?"
She looked around, frightened. "Let's go back to my cell and talk. We can't risk them overhearing."
[To Be Continued]
Love,
Trasha
I'm Home [Part One]
Hey Friends,
I'm home, sitting in the recliner I never thought I'd sit my fat ass in again. I'm typing on the WebTV I was certain would just be a sweet memory and am sipping a Coors Light, which after all I've been through, tastes like the nectar of the gods.
I'm battered, I'm bruised, I'm barely alive--but I'm home. You won't believe everything I have to tell you.
I know, I know--get to the point, Trasha! HA! I'm still trying to sort my mind out and make sure I don't skip over anything. I need to pick up where I left off last time, that's always the best way. OK, here we go:
As I walked through the doors of Cain's club, I prayed my legs wouldn't give out. I was nearly crippled with fear, but I couldn't let that be known to anyone, so I pulled myself together and walked like the sex goddess I was. With strength and with purpose, I walked right by to Leonard, who was sitting at the bar, having a cocktail.
"Well, hello hot stuff." I said, sitting down next to him. The bartender came right up to me and I gave him my drink order: "Grey Goose martini, extra dirty please."
Leonard turned to me and smiled. "Extra dirty is right, darling. I wasn't expecting to see you around here again."
I laughed, coolly. "Oh, and why not? I'm not afraid of Cain--I do what I want. And I wanted to see if you'd like to go for another ride on the Trasha White Pussy Express."
I crossed my legs so that the slit in my dress would briefly expose my freshly shaved snatch. Leonard was licking his lips, enjoying the peep show.
"You certainly are a brave gal, I have to admit. Cain is right over there--he will see us. You want to cause trouble for me?"
I knew a man was powerless to pussy, no matter the possible danger. I batted my eyelashes at him, licked my lips and slowly sucked on my finger. Leonard fidgeted--I was getting to him.
He cleared his throat nervously. "OK, but we have to be discreet about it. I'll go to the back now. Finish your drink then come to my office. But don't let Cain see you!"
I smiled. "Now, why would I want that?"
Little did Leonard know, but moments later when I walked toward the back, I made sure that I caught Cain's eye. I looked at him and grinned and kept walking to the back. His eyes widened with rage, but he sat still, watching me.
I knocked on Leonard's door and knew we had to get right to business as everything had to be timed perfectly. I threw myself into his arms the moment the door opened and torn at his pants.
"You're a tiger!" He said, delighted. "Don't rip my cock off!"
"Oh, no baby--I'll be good to that meat stick. Give me what I need, Daddy--plug my pussy up with your huge COCK!"
I pulled my dress up and let Leonard dive into my waters. He plunged deep into me, with lusty force. He had pumped me good and hard for a few minutes when Cain burst in.
"You fucking WHORE! I knew you were too stupid for your own good." Cain looked at Leonard, who was still thrusting into my cunt. "And you--what the fuck are you doing? Get your dick out of her!"
He pulled Leonard off of me and grabbed me with one hand around the throat. I could see a big hulking black man standing behind him with a white cloth in one hand.
"Take her!" Cain said, throwing me to him. When the cloth was put over my face, a strange smell made me light headed and then soon, unconscious.
[To Be Continued...]
Love,
Trasha
I'm home, sitting in the recliner I never thought I'd sit my fat ass in again. I'm typing on the WebTV I was certain would just be a sweet memory and am sipping a Coors Light, which after all I've been through, tastes like the nectar of the gods.
I'm battered, I'm bruised, I'm barely alive--but I'm home. You won't believe everything I have to tell you.
I know, I know--get to the point, Trasha! HA! I'm still trying to sort my mind out and make sure I don't skip over anything. I need to pick up where I left off last time, that's always the best way. OK, here we go:
As I walked through the doors of Cain's club, I prayed my legs wouldn't give out. I was nearly crippled with fear, but I couldn't let that be known to anyone, so I pulled myself together and walked like the sex goddess I was. With strength and with purpose, I walked right by to Leonard, who was sitting at the bar, having a cocktail.
"Well, hello hot stuff." I said, sitting down next to him. The bartender came right up to me and I gave him my drink order: "Grey Goose martini, extra dirty please."
Leonard turned to me and smiled. "Extra dirty is right, darling. I wasn't expecting to see you around here again."
I laughed, coolly. "Oh, and why not? I'm not afraid of Cain--I do what I want. And I wanted to see if you'd like to go for another ride on the Trasha White Pussy Express."
I crossed my legs so that the slit in my dress would briefly expose my freshly shaved snatch. Leonard was licking his lips, enjoying the peep show.
"You certainly are a brave gal, I have to admit. Cain is right over there--he will see us. You want to cause trouble for me?"
I knew a man was powerless to pussy, no matter the possible danger. I batted my eyelashes at him, licked my lips and slowly sucked on my finger. Leonard fidgeted--I was getting to him.
He cleared his throat nervously. "OK, but we have to be discreet about it. I'll go to the back now. Finish your drink then come to my office. But don't let Cain see you!"
I smiled. "Now, why would I want that?"
Little did Leonard know, but moments later when I walked toward the back, I made sure that I caught Cain's eye. I looked at him and grinned and kept walking to the back. His eyes widened with rage, but he sat still, watching me.
I knocked on Leonard's door and knew we had to get right to business as everything had to be timed perfectly. I threw myself into his arms the moment the door opened and torn at his pants.
"You're a tiger!" He said, delighted. "Don't rip my cock off!"
"Oh, no baby--I'll be good to that meat stick. Give me what I need, Daddy--plug my pussy up with your huge COCK!"
I pulled my dress up and let Leonard dive into my waters. He plunged deep into me, with lusty force. He had pumped me good and hard for a few minutes when Cain burst in.
"You fucking WHORE! I knew you were too stupid for your own good." Cain looked at Leonard, who was still thrusting into my cunt. "And you--what the fuck are you doing? Get your dick out of her!"
He pulled Leonard off of me and grabbed me with one hand around the throat. I could see a big hulking black man standing behind him with a white cloth in one hand.
"Take her!" Cain said, throwing me to him. When the cloth was put over my face, a strange smell made me light headed and then soon, unconscious.
[To Be Continued...]
Love,
Trasha
Into the Lion's Den
Hey Friends,
I may not be around for a while. God, I don't know why I suddenly feel like I'm writing my own eulogy. But these may be the last words I ever write/ever speak. I'm about to do something that may get me killed or may just save the lives of countless women. Many people's future's are in the palm of my hand and I'm terrified that I could turn them all into sacrificial lambs if I make the wrong move.
I have made sure Starla has a clean diaper and a full bottle and put her in her play pen. She looked up at me, like she was reading my mind and aware of the crazy plan I had concocted. I told her, in my head: "Look kid, you're all right. I kinda dig you and I'll make sure you are OK. Oh, and, I'm glad I didn't miscarry when I was pregnant with you."
I looked in the mirror. I was wearing heavy makeup and my eye had healed enough that I looked like my normal FLAWLESS self. I tell you, Wet 'N Wild is a godsend! I was wearing my most beautiful outfit--a long, strapless pink sequin dress with a slit up the side, a pair of 6 inch white heels and a floor length white mink coat. My normally long jet black hair was pulled back and up, a mass of curls like a crown.
I wet my lips; I was gorgeous.
Now I must go and do what I have to do. Here is my plan: I will show up at Cain's club and throw myself at Leonard, in front of him--so that not only he sees me, but so that the other girls see me, too. He'll feel like I made a fool out of him and outright defied him by showing up to the club anyway. Then, I should hopefully find myself in the same place Shonda is being held and then I can save her. And save the rest of the women being held captive.
This is the craziest thing I have ever done--and trust me, I've done some crazy ass shit. But what I think is the craziest part of all of this is that I'm not doing any of this for me. I'm getting no bonus for this, no payback. What am I getting, gratitude? You can't buy Coors Light with "thanks", trust me I tried (and ended up in jail for shoplifting as a result).
That's when Starla caught my eye and she seemed to say: "Yo, Lady. I'm proud of you. You aren't a heartless bitch after all."
We shall see whether or not that is true after I step foot into Cain's club tonight. We shall see whether or not I make it out of the lion's den.
Love,
Trasha
I may not be around for a while. God, I don't know why I suddenly feel like I'm writing my own eulogy. But these may be the last words I ever write/ever speak. I'm about to do something that may get me killed or may just save the lives of countless women. Many people's future's are in the palm of my hand and I'm terrified that I could turn them all into sacrificial lambs if I make the wrong move.
I have made sure Starla has a clean diaper and a full bottle and put her in her play pen. She looked up at me, like she was reading my mind and aware of the crazy plan I had concocted. I told her, in my head: "Look kid, you're all right. I kinda dig you and I'll make sure you are OK. Oh, and, I'm glad I didn't miscarry when I was pregnant with you."
I looked in the mirror. I was wearing heavy makeup and my eye had healed enough that I looked like my normal FLAWLESS self. I tell you, Wet 'N Wild is a godsend! I was wearing my most beautiful outfit--a long, strapless pink sequin dress with a slit up the side, a pair of 6 inch white heels and a floor length white mink coat. My normally long jet black hair was pulled back and up, a mass of curls like a crown.
I wet my lips; I was gorgeous.
Now I must go and do what I have to do. Here is my plan: I will show up at Cain's club and throw myself at Leonard, in front of him--so that not only he sees me, but so that the other girls see me, too. He'll feel like I made a fool out of him and outright defied him by showing up to the club anyway. Then, I should hopefully find myself in the same place Shonda is being held and then I can save her. And save the rest of the women being held captive.
This is the craziest thing I have ever done--and trust me, I've done some crazy ass shit. But what I think is the craziest part of all of this is that I'm not doing any of this for me. I'm getting no bonus for this, no payback. What am I getting, gratitude? You can't buy Coors Light with "thanks", trust me I tried (and ended up in jail for shoplifting as a result).
That's when Starla caught my eye and she seemed to say: "Yo, Lady. I'm proud of you. You aren't a heartless bitch after all."
We shall see whether or not that is true after I step foot into Cain's club tonight. We shall see whether or not I make it out of the lion's den.
Love,
Trasha
Choices [Part Two]
Hey Friends,
I didn't sleep last night. I could blame the meth that Cunt Face cooked up for me, but I know it's more than that. It was Shonda's phone call that kept running through my head. Why am I always burdened by other people's problems? And why the FUCK do I feel so obligated to help fix them?
What can I say: I'm a giver.
And how funny that I'm yet again put in this predicament and I have Shonda to thank for it all. I'm starting to regret ever talking to her that day in the welfare office. I should have just gotten my food stamps, my powdered milk and cheese and gone on with my life. But no, I had to be Chatty Cathy and now I could be killed because of it all!
Lord, do I have a big mouth.
But I do have to help her--and the other women that are being held captive for Cain's evil plans, whatever they may be. What kind of lion's den was I willingly putting myself into? What could possibly await me in Cain's slave camp? And what would I need to do to make sure I was sent there?
I confided in Cunt Face, since she's been there every step of the way. She was horrified by the tale but agreed that if anyone could fix this mess, it was me. What am I--a fucking super hero?! All I know how to do is sing, write hit songs, turn tricks and give home abortions. I don't know how to SAVE lives! I only know how to take them!
So I've got quite a job to do and limited time to do it. I have to scheme a way to push Cain over the edge, which shouldn't be too hard since I'm naturally good at it (and I have the black eye to prove it!)
Wish me luck!
Love,
Trasha
I didn't sleep last night. I could blame the meth that Cunt Face cooked up for me, but I know it's more than that. It was Shonda's phone call that kept running through my head. Why am I always burdened by other people's problems? And why the FUCK do I feel so obligated to help fix them?
What can I say: I'm a giver.
And how funny that I'm yet again put in this predicament and I have Shonda to thank for it all. I'm starting to regret ever talking to her that day in the welfare office. I should have just gotten my food stamps, my powdered milk and cheese and gone on with my life. But no, I had to be Chatty Cathy and now I could be killed because of it all!
Lord, do I have a big mouth.
But I do have to help her--and the other women that are being held captive for Cain's evil plans, whatever they may be. What kind of lion's den was I willingly putting myself into? What could possibly await me in Cain's slave camp? And what would I need to do to make sure I was sent there?
I confided in Cunt Face, since she's been there every step of the way. She was horrified by the tale but agreed that if anyone could fix this mess, it was me. What am I--a fucking super hero?! All I know how to do is sing, write hit songs, turn tricks and give home abortions. I don't know how to SAVE lives! I only know how to take them!
So I've got quite a job to do and limited time to do it. I have to scheme a way to push Cain over the edge, which shouldn't be too hard since I'm naturally good at it (and I have the black eye to prove it!)
Wish me luck!
Love,
Trasha
Choices [Part One]
Hey Friends,
Something unspeakable has happened. I just received a phone call that shook me to my core, left me breathless and changed my very life.
I was putting rollers in my hair, which is desperately in need of some body, when my phone rang. Thinking it was Cain or perhaps maybe a reporter calling for an interview (hardee har har), I picked it up. Normally, I wouldn't answer, but hey, I was feeling social.
"This is Trasha," I said.
"Trasha! Trasha, thank God you're home. I need your help--you've got to help me!"
"Who the hell is this?" I asked. I didn't have time to play games!
"It's me, Shonda. Listen, Cain kidnapped me and is keeping me and a bunch of other girls in a building in Canada. He's doing...horrible things to us and I can't even tell you on the phone--I don't have time. He'll kill me if he knew I was able to call you. Anyway, you're the only person I could think of to call. You have to help me; you have to help us!"
"Shonda, you crazy bitch. Stop playing on my damn phone." I had no time for pranks! I had things to do--roll my hair, smoke a cigarette, watch Judge Judy, you know--important shit!
"Trasha, please! I'm not joking. You're the only person that can help us!"
"How am I supposed to help you? You think he's going to tell me where you are and just let you go because I say so?"
"No, I know he won't go for that. You need to somehow be brought here. He only sends girls here who have fucked him over. And then he makes them...oh, God--I can't even SAY it!"
"So you're saying I need to fuck Cain over so badly that he sends me to this slave camp that he has for all the bitches who have done him wrong? You know how insane all this sounds? For all I know, you're just jealous of me and him and you're trying to get me killed! Or at least get him to dump me so he'll take your sorry ass back!"
I heard commotion on the other end of the line. I heard several voices, male and angry. I heard the phone being ripped away from Shonda and she was whimpering, begging:
"Please, no! Don't!"
Click.
This was no fucking joke--Shonda was in deep, deep trouble and I was well on my way to joining her. It wouldn't take much at this point to put Cain over the edge and before I knew it, I could be staring Shonda right in the face.
Or he could just break his habit and kill me. Who knows? Either way, I'm scared and need advice on what I should do!!!
Love,
Trasha
Something unspeakable has happened. I just received a phone call that shook me to my core, left me breathless and changed my very life.
I was putting rollers in my hair, which is desperately in need of some body, when my phone rang. Thinking it was Cain or perhaps maybe a reporter calling for an interview (hardee har har), I picked it up. Normally, I wouldn't answer, but hey, I was feeling social.
"This is Trasha," I said.
"Trasha! Trasha, thank God you're home. I need your help--you've got to help me!"
"Who the hell is this?" I asked. I didn't have time to play games!
"It's me, Shonda. Listen, Cain kidnapped me and is keeping me and a bunch of other girls in a building in Canada. He's doing...horrible things to us and I can't even tell you on the phone--I don't have time. He'll kill me if he knew I was able to call you. Anyway, you're the only person I could think of to call. You have to help me; you have to help us!"
"Shonda, you crazy bitch. Stop playing on my damn phone." I had no time for pranks! I had things to do--roll my hair, smoke a cigarette, watch Judge Judy, you know--important shit!
"Trasha, please! I'm not joking. You're the only person that can help us!"
"How am I supposed to help you? You think he's going to tell me where you are and just let you go because I say so?"
"No, I know he won't go for that. You need to somehow be brought here. He only sends girls here who have fucked him over. And then he makes them...oh, God--I can't even SAY it!"
"So you're saying I need to fuck Cain over so badly that he sends me to this slave camp that he has for all the bitches who have done him wrong? You know how insane all this sounds? For all I know, you're just jealous of me and him and you're trying to get me killed! Or at least get him to dump me so he'll take your sorry ass back!"
I heard commotion on the other end of the line. I heard several voices, male and angry. I heard the phone being ripped away from Shonda and she was whimpering, begging:
"Please, no! Don't!"
Click.
This was no fucking joke--Shonda was in deep, deep trouble and I was well on my way to joining her. It wouldn't take much at this point to put Cain over the edge and before I knew it, I could be staring Shonda right in the face.
Or he could just break his habit and kill me. Who knows? Either way, I'm scared and need advice on what I should do!!!
Love,
Trasha
Glam Pirate!
Hey Friends,
I can see a little out of my left eye today, but to make me feel less ugly, Cunt Face made a cute little eye patch for me. It's pink and has rhinestones glued on it. Sure, it's a bit tacky, but there is only so much you can do with an eye patch. I look like a semi-glamorous pirate now and with ample amounts of concealer and foundation, I look presentable.
I decided to match my eye patch to the rest of my outfit, so I put on a pink bedazzled sweater dress, white leggings and some hot pink pumps. I did my hair so that it kind of fell over the left side of my face and when I'm wearing my big black sunglasses (because I need to look HOLLYWOOD), you would never know that I had just gotten my ass beat as bad as I did.
Cain did finally call me back. He was apologetic, but still firm in his belief that he did the right thing. I apologized again for cheating on him and he said he would only authorize me fucking other men if he arranged it and it was a true trick, not just fun. I told him Leonard gave me $400 in cash and that I considered it just business; my heart was still with him. He said he would forgive me--in time. It was the best news I could have gotten!!!
He did say I couldn't work at the club anymore nor show my face there again. He said he needed to send a strong message to me and to his crew of performers and I told him I respected his decision. I am a true performer, but felt that mixing my music with stripping was spreading myself too thin.
So here is the deal: I'm now a full-time Call Girl. Cain will arrange all my "dates" and I will do what they ask. He will get the money in advance but all tips were mine to keep (whether that be cash or drugs or whatever). I told him that was fair and I liked the idea of him being my manager.
I report to work as a Call Girl the moment I heal up. He said to consider this recuperation time my paid vacation and that he'd send his driver over with cash for me.
So I will embark on a new career (Call Girl is so much classier than "hooker" or "lot lizard") and I still have my man! Maybe things aren't so grim after all, you know? I felt so good that I even got my NAILS DID! They are--you guessed it--PINK with glitter!
Love,
Trasha
I can see a little out of my left eye today, but to make me feel less ugly, Cunt Face made a cute little eye patch for me. It's pink and has rhinestones glued on it. Sure, it's a bit tacky, but there is only so much you can do with an eye patch. I look like a semi-glamorous pirate now and with ample amounts of concealer and foundation, I look presentable.
I decided to match my eye patch to the rest of my outfit, so I put on a pink bedazzled sweater dress, white leggings and some hot pink pumps. I did my hair so that it kind of fell over the left side of my face and when I'm wearing my big black sunglasses (because I need to look HOLLYWOOD), you would never know that I had just gotten my ass beat as bad as I did.
Cain did finally call me back. He was apologetic, but still firm in his belief that he did the right thing. I apologized again for cheating on him and he said he would only authorize me fucking other men if he arranged it and it was a true trick, not just fun. I told him Leonard gave me $400 in cash and that I considered it just business; my heart was still with him. He said he would forgive me--in time. It was the best news I could have gotten!!!
He did say I couldn't work at the club anymore nor show my face there again. He said he needed to send a strong message to me and to his crew of performers and I told him I respected his decision. I am a true performer, but felt that mixing my music with stripping was spreading myself too thin.
So here is the deal: I'm now a full-time Call Girl. Cain will arrange all my "dates" and I will do what they ask. He will get the money in advance but all tips were mine to keep (whether that be cash or drugs or whatever). I told him that was fair and I liked the idea of him being my manager.
I report to work as a Call Girl the moment I heal up. He said to consider this recuperation time my paid vacation and that he'd send his driver over with cash for me.
So I will embark on a new career (Call Girl is so much classier than "hooker" or "lot lizard") and I still have my man! Maybe things aren't so grim after all, you know? I felt so good that I even got my NAILS DID! They are--you guessed it--PINK with glitter!
Love,
Trasha
He Hit Me--And It Felt Like a Kiss
Hey Friends,
The swelling in my face has gone down, but the bruises on my heart will never heal. I truly truly fucked up and I take full responsibility for my actions. I can't say I blame Cain for using me as his personal punching bag, but just wish he would have stayed away from the money-maker: my face! I hope there is no permanent damage since Cunt Face and I plan on doing some photo shoots soon. I guess they will be postponed.
I've called him and called him since he left, but he keeps rejecting my calls (I know he's rejecting them since it will only ring a couple times then magically go to voice mail--I know it takes more rings than THAT). I leave long messages--I even tried to sing a bit of a song I wrote for him, but my lips are so busted, I sounded like a retard!
When Cunt Face and Mama came back, they were stunned by the vision before them. Normally, people are stunned because I'm so BEAUTIFUL, now it's because I look so HIDEOUS.
"What.the.fuck.happened?!" Said a horrified Cunt Face.
"Cain did it." I managed to say.
"I told you about those blacks, Cunt Face. Can't trust nary a one of 'em! They always like to beat up women--and drink malt liquor! I never did get that: it tastes like piss!"
We both at Mama, slack jawed. She was acting more like her old racist self again! This was a good sign: Mama was coming home.
But the focus went right back to yours truly. Cunt Face ran to the fridge and found a steak (how the hell did that get in there?) and put the raw meat on my left eye.
"I feel like a pirate!" I cried.
"It'll heal, it'll heal. I've had worse and look at this gorgeous mug! You'd never know it. Just give it time." She was dabbing a cold cloth on my face as well, to soak up some of the dried up blood.
I tried for a long time to fully explain the situation. By the time I was through, Starla started wailing her guts out from the bedroom.
"Cunt Face, will you feed and change her please? I don't want her to see me looking like this...looking like a MONSTER!"
She nodded and went to take care of the baby. That left Mama and I alone.
"So, he did a real number on ya, didn't he?" She said, taking a sip of her Coors Light.
"It's a simple misunderstanding, that's all." I tried to explain, but Mama was busting up laughing.
"You stupid bitch!" She howled. "A bitch as dumb as you deserves to get whomped on. I assure you if that man had laid an unwelcome hand on me, he would have pulled back a bloody stump."
I shrugged. I guess I was just used to being treated like dog shit when it came to the menz. Why do I settle for less? I know I'm a beautiful, talented, powerful woman, so why am I so weak in the love department?
I'm reminded of that song with the line: "He hit me and it felt like a kiss." I totally get it now. It's pretty sad when you'll take a kiss or a punch just the same--as long as you're being touched, what's the difference?
Love,
Trasha
The swelling in my face has gone down, but the bruises on my heart will never heal. I truly truly fucked up and I take full responsibility for my actions. I can't say I blame Cain for using me as his personal punching bag, but just wish he would have stayed away from the money-maker: my face! I hope there is no permanent damage since Cunt Face and I plan on doing some photo shoots soon. I guess they will be postponed.
I've called him and called him since he left, but he keeps rejecting my calls (I know he's rejecting them since it will only ring a couple times then magically go to voice mail--I know it takes more rings than THAT). I leave long messages--I even tried to sing a bit of a song I wrote for him, but my lips are so busted, I sounded like a retard!
When Cunt Face and Mama came back, they were stunned by the vision before them. Normally, people are stunned because I'm so BEAUTIFUL, now it's because I look so HIDEOUS.
"What.the.fuck.happened?!" Said a horrified Cunt Face.
"Cain did it." I managed to say.
"I told you about those blacks, Cunt Face. Can't trust nary a one of 'em! They always like to beat up women--and drink malt liquor! I never did get that: it tastes like piss!"
We both at Mama, slack jawed. She was acting more like her old racist self again! This was a good sign: Mama was coming home.
But the focus went right back to yours truly. Cunt Face ran to the fridge and found a steak (how the hell did that get in there?) and put the raw meat on my left eye.
"I feel like a pirate!" I cried.
"It'll heal, it'll heal. I've had worse and look at this gorgeous mug! You'd never know it. Just give it time." She was dabbing a cold cloth on my face as well, to soak up some of the dried up blood.
I tried for a long time to fully explain the situation. By the time I was through, Starla started wailing her guts out from the bedroom.
"Cunt Face, will you feed and change her please? I don't want her to see me looking like this...looking like a MONSTER!"
She nodded and went to take care of the baby. That left Mama and I alone.
"So, he did a real number on ya, didn't he?" She said, taking a sip of her Coors Light.
"It's a simple misunderstanding, that's all." I tried to explain, but Mama was busting up laughing.
"You stupid bitch!" She howled. "A bitch as dumb as you deserves to get whomped on. I assure you if that man had laid an unwelcome hand on me, he would have pulled back a bloody stump."
I shrugged. I guess I was just used to being treated like dog shit when it came to the menz. Why do I settle for less? I know I'm a beautiful, talented, powerful woman, so why am I so weak in the love department?
I'm reminded of that song with the line: "He hit me and it felt like a kiss." I totally get it now. It's pretty sad when you'll take a kiss or a punch just the same--as long as you're being touched, what's the difference?
Love,
Trasha
Dead Woman Walking
Hey Friends,
I'm in trouble. Big trouble and I don't know what to do or where to turn. I got myself into this mess and I need to figure a way OUT of it. If only it were as easy as that.
Cain's home and he knows about me fucking Leonard last night. Apparently, this is a little trick Leonard pulls on all of Cain's girlfriends. He likes to test the waters and see if they are loyal or not. Well, I failed the test and Cain let me know--in person--how disappointed he was in me.
When the knock came at my trailer door, I wasn't expecting it to be Cain. I also wasn't expecting to be punched directly in the face, which is exactly what Cain did the moment I opened the door and said: "Who the hell goes there?!"
I fell backward, clutching my nose. Blood was already pouring from it; Cain sure knew where to land his fist!
"What the..." I stammered.
Cain marched in and walked over my body. "Shut up, bitch!" He bellowed. "Get up off that floor and close the damn door. We got some things to discuss, you and me."
He pounded through the trailer, looking for signs of anyone else. Mama and Cunt Face were out shopping and so it was just me and Starla. He didn't notice her in her crib (which I moved to my bedroom--THANK GOD). Thankfully, Starla kept her mouth shut. What a smart baby!
I was still trying to pull myself up when he came back into the living room. He really knocked me for a loop and my head was really dazed.
"I said GET UP BITCH!" He screamed and pulled me to my feet by my hair.
"Cain, wait, please, don't hurt me anymore!" I pleaded, but his backhand landed on my face just the same.
"I told you girl, we be cool as long as you respect me. Was fucking my business partner your way of showing me respect and loyalty? Was it? WAS IT BITCH?!"
He didn't even give me the chance to respond. Punches rained down on me and I did what came naturally. I switched off and in my head, pulled myself into the safe place I established as a child, whenever my daddy would wail on me. It's this neat little trick that allows me to be OK, no matter what is happening to my body. If I'm turning tricks and things go sour, I switch off. I'm not much of a fighter by any means and normally rely on Cunt Face for brute force.
I switched myself back on once the beatings stopped. My living room wall has three mirrors on it, behind the sofa, so I was able to see myself as I got to my feet. I was a bloodied mess, my face was puffy and my left eye was already starting to swell shut. I heard water running in the kitchen and saw Cain washing my blood from his hands.
"I had to do it, Trasha. I just had to. You've been warned and you defied me. I leave town for a few days and you run wild on me like that? I don't think so."
I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my lips were too swollen to really form sentences. I collapsed into my recliner and fumbled with my bottle of Percocets.
I will take the pain away, I will take the pain away...
I managed to get two pills in my mouth and dry-swallowed them. I wasn't about to try and get a glass of water or a beer from the fridge.
When Cain was finished cleaning up, he grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me to my feet again. He dragged me over to the mirror and said:
"See that face? SEE IT? That ain't shit."
He then pulled down my sweat pants and rammed his hard cock into me. As he pumped and pumped, he called me names.
"Whore!
Slut!
Bitch!
Dead bitch!
You are a dead fucking BITCH!"
When he came, without a condom might I add, he buttoned his pants, spit on me and then left without a word.
Thanks to the Percocets, I'm able to tell this tale. My face is pretty swollen and numb and I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared everyone...I'm afraid that Cain will make good on his threat to kill me.
I'm a dead woman walking.
Love,
Trasha
I'm in trouble. Big trouble and I don't know what to do or where to turn. I got myself into this mess and I need to figure a way OUT of it. If only it were as easy as that.
Cain's home and he knows about me fucking Leonard last night. Apparently, this is a little trick Leonard pulls on all of Cain's girlfriends. He likes to test the waters and see if they are loyal or not. Well, I failed the test and Cain let me know--in person--how disappointed he was in me.
When the knock came at my trailer door, I wasn't expecting it to be Cain. I also wasn't expecting to be punched directly in the face, which is exactly what Cain did the moment I opened the door and said: "Who the hell goes there?!"
I fell backward, clutching my nose. Blood was already pouring from it; Cain sure knew where to land his fist!
"What the..." I stammered.
Cain marched in and walked over my body. "Shut up, bitch!" He bellowed. "Get up off that floor and close the damn door. We got some things to discuss, you and me."
He pounded through the trailer, looking for signs of anyone else. Mama and Cunt Face were out shopping and so it was just me and Starla. He didn't notice her in her crib (which I moved to my bedroom--THANK GOD). Thankfully, Starla kept her mouth shut. What a smart baby!
I was still trying to pull myself up when he came back into the living room. He really knocked me for a loop and my head was really dazed.
"I said GET UP BITCH!" He screamed and pulled me to my feet by my hair.
"Cain, wait, please, don't hurt me anymore!" I pleaded, but his backhand landed on my face just the same.
"I told you girl, we be cool as long as you respect me. Was fucking my business partner your way of showing me respect and loyalty? Was it? WAS IT BITCH?!"
He didn't even give me the chance to respond. Punches rained down on me and I did what came naturally. I switched off and in my head, pulled myself into the safe place I established as a child, whenever my daddy would wail on me. It's this neat little trick that allows me to be OK, no matter what is happening to my body. If I'm turning tricks and things go sour, I switch off. I'm not much of a fighter by any means and normally rely on Cunt Face for brute force.
I switched myself back on once the beatings stopped. My living room wall has three mirrors on it, behind the sofa, so I was able to see myself as I got to my feet. I was a bloodied mess, my face was puffy and my left eye was already starting to swell shut. I heard water running in the kitchen and saw Cain washing my blood from his hands.
"I had to do it, Trasha. I just had to. You've been warned and you defied me. I leave town for a few days and you run wild on me like that? I don't think so."
I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my lips were too swollen to really form sentences. I collapsed into my recliner and fumbled with my bottle of Percocets.
I will take the pain away, I will take the pain away...
I managed to get two pills in my mouth and dry-swallowed them. I wasn't about to try and get a glass of water or a beer from the fridge.
When Cain was finished cleaning up, he grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me to my feet again. He dragged me over to the mirror and said:
"See that face? SEE IT? That ain't shit."
He then pulled down my sweat pants and rammed his hard cock into me. As he pumped and pumped, he called me names.
"Whore!
Slut!
Bitch!
Dead bitch!
You are a dead fucking BITCH!"
When he came, without a condom might I add, he buttoned his pants, spit on me and then left without a word.
Thanks to the Percocets, I'm able to tell this tale. My face is pretty swollen and numb and I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared everyone...I'm afraid that Cain will make good on his threat to kill me.
I'm a dead woman walking.
Love,
Trasha
I Have Sexual Tourette's
Hey Friends,
I had an interesting night, to say the least. It started shortly after we arrived home from visiting Jackson Trailer Park. I gathered my costumes, called Cain's driver and left for the club, where I would perform my number for the very first time. I am a star and all, but I will admit: I'm not used to playing this kind of crowd. My crowd is more pork rinds and Pabst Blue Ribbon, not Scotch and soda sippers. They had higher expectations! I really had to pull out all the stops or I'd end up looking like a big fool.
Rehearsal was flawless. I felt totally in control of my body and my voice and had all my choreography down pat. I was to make bold movements, tearing off pieces of my costume along the way until I was left in nothing more than pasties and heels.
I was ready.
I sat backstage before my number, pumped up and more glamorous than ever before when I noticed a few of the performers whispering and looking my way. Of course, my first thought was: jealousy, but I soon realized they were talking about something a little deeper than my talent.
Darla came to the makeup table and touched up her face. She shot a nervous look at me then back to the mirror. Something was not right--I could feel it.
"What's up, Darla?" I asked.
She didn't answer me, but tried with a shaky hand to apply a fresh coat of lipstick.
"Hey," I said, more firmly. "What's your damn problem?"
She looked at me, fear in her eyes. "Remember what I said yesterday? Forget it, OK. I don't know what I was talking about."
This girl was just too paranoid for me, but I soon found out what her deal was. Toni pulled me aside on my way back from the shitter.
"Trasha, listen. You can't tell Cain what Darla said yesterday, how she was warning you about that kind of shit. Please, just forget you heard anything and don't breathe a word of it, OK?"
"What the fuck is going on? You two are acting like nut cases! Why are you so afraid of Cain?"
Though I knew the answer, so why I bothered to ask is beyond me. Really, where was I getting off judging them? I knew very well what he was capable of, but I guess I just didn't want to believe what Toni was fixing to tell me.
"Trasha," Said Toni, holding me by the shoulders, tears in her eyes. "Trasha, Shonda is missing and she was Cain's girlfriend before you. She worked here, she was my friend. Something happened between them and now she's gone and no one has any idea where she is."
Shit. I didn't know exactly where Shonda was myself, but I knew something happened to her and Cain was behind it. I felt like my guilt was written across my face and that Toni would notice it right away.
"Well," I lied. "Maybe she just...left town?"
"But it's not just her, Trasha. It's happened to other girls Cain has been with. It's like, they just keep disappearing around him. And most of the girls here come and go so quickly, they don't notice. But there are a couple of us with our eyes open and I don't want the same thing to happen to you!"
"I can take care of myself, honey, so no need to worry about me. But your concern is precious: never lose that. I have a show to do, so if you'll excuse me, I have a crowd to dazzle."
She grabbed my arm. "Say nothing about this conversation or I'm dead. Darla, too."
I tore my arm away. "You're such a drama queen! Both of you! I'll keep my trap shut, just chill out. It's suffocating."
And with that, I left and danced my tits off.
* * * * *
After my performance, I was a sweaty mess. As I walked off stage and into the dressing room, I was given a towel to wipe myself. I was standing there with only some pasties, a pair of 6-inch heels and a layer of honey on my body. I dabbed my face when a man approached me.
"You were sensational. What is your name?"
He was a pretty hot older white dude, the kind I eat for breakfast and puke back up again for desert. The perfect John: respectful, classy and vanilla--you're in, you're out. Sometimes, you just talk and they pay you double.
"I'm Trasha. Trasha White." I said, extending my hand. "It's nice to make your acquaintance. And you are?"
"Hi Trasha, I'm Leonard. I've never seen you before--was that your first time performing here?"
"Yes, it certainly was. I normally don't take my clothes off while I'm singing--it's kind of one thing or the other with me. This was my first time combing the two and I think it came off pretty good."
"Well, it's certainly a catch tune. "Fist my pussy...fist my pussy, bitch!" It's great! And the honey-filled kiddie pool was a great touch."
I wiped a tiny bit of honey from my cunt and put it to Leonard's lips. "I love honey." I was flirting, yes, I know, but what else do you expect me to do? Get real!
"Mmmm..." He said licking my finger. "May I...taste your lips?"
"Only if you mean my pussy lips."
He nodded, lustfully.
"I want you to eat my pussy and then beat the ever-loving hell out of it with your huge cock!"
I threw my leg up and stabbed my heel into the door frame, giving him full VIP access to the party in my crotch.
* * * * *
After he handed me four hundred dollar bills and left, I felt like I had really accomplished something. In terms of trick-turning, that was both an enjoyable experience and a financially rewarding one. I felt like a fat Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and Leonard was my Richard Gere. But then it hit me: I just cheated on Cain.
I just cheated on Cain. I wasn't supposed to do that kind of stuff, but when you're caught up in the moment, you're caught up in the moment, right? And what was Leonard doing back stage anyway? I mean, if I wasn't supposed to get my connie pounded, why were men allowed near the dressing room? Part of me thinks Cain was just asking for it by having these lax policies.
But then it hit me again. I just fucked up, majorly. I cheated on Cain, my boyfriend, the new found love of my life. How could I do something like that to him? Was this self-sabotage? Did I not feel capable of true love?
And then it hit me in a different way. This man will kill me if he finds out. But would he find out? I mean, Leonard was just some random guy that came backstage, right?
As I was leaving, I got my answer. I was putting my fur coat on, getting ready to hop into Cain's limo when Toni pointed Leonard out to me and said. "Have you met Leonard yet?"
I let out a short laugh. "Have I ever. Does he come here a lot?"
She gave me a strange look. "Uh, yeah--he owns the place. He's Cain's business partner, didn't you know?"
I could have shit my pants. What the hell am I going to do????
Love,
Trasha
I had an interesting night, to say the least. It started shortly after we arrived home from visiting Jackson Trailer Park. I gathered my costumes, called Cain's driver and left for the club, where I would perform my number for the very first time. I am a star and all, but I will admit: I'm not used to playing this kind of crowd. My crowd is more pork rinds and Pabst Blue Ribbon, not Scotch and soda sippers. They had higher expectations! I really had to pull out all the stops or I'd end up looking like a big fool.
Rehearsal was flawless. I felt totally in control of my body and my voice and had all my choreography down pat. I was to make bold movements, tearing off pieces of my costume along the way until I was left in nothing more than pasties and heels.
I was ready.
I sat backstage before my number, pumped up and more glamorous than ever before when I noticed a few of the performers whispering and looking my way. Of course, my first thought was: jealousy, but I soon realized they were talking about something a little deeper than my talent.
Darla came to the makeup table and touched up her face. She shot a nervous look at me then back to the mirror. Something was not right--I could feel it.
"What's up, Darla?" I asked.
She didn't answer me, but tried with a shaky hand to apply a fresh coat of lipstick.
"Hey," I said, more firmly. "What's your damn problem?"
She looked at me, fear in her eyes. "Remember what I said yesterday? Forget it, OK. I don't know what I was talking about."
This girl was just too paranoid for me, but I soon found out what her deal was. Toni pulled me aside on my way back from the shitter.
"Trasha, listen. You can't tell Cain what Darla said yesterday, how she was warning you about that kind of shit. Please, just forget you heard anything and don't breathe a word of it, OK?"
"What the fuck is going on? You two are acting like nut cases! Why are you so afraid of Cain?"
Though I knew the answer, so why I bothered to ask is beyond me. Really, where was I getting off judging them? I knew very well what he was capable of, but I guess I just didn't want to believe what Toni was fixing to tell me.
"Trasha," Said Toni, holding me by the shoulders, tears in her eyes. "Trasha, Shonda is missing and she was Cain's girlfriend before you. She worked here, she was my friend. Something happened between them and now she's gone and no one has any idea where she is."
Shit. I didn't know exactly where Shonda was myself, but I knew something happened to her and Cain was behind it. I felt like my guilt was written across my face and that Toni would notice it right away.
"Well," I lied. "Maybe she just...left town?"
"But it's not just her, Trasha. It's happened to other girls Cain has been with. It's like, they just keep disappearing around him. And most of the girls here come and go so quickly, they don't notice. But there are a couple of us with our eyes open and I don't want the same thing to happen to you!"
"I can take care of myself, honey, so no need to worry about me. But your concern is precious: never lose that. I have a show to do, so if you'll excuse me, I have a crowd to dazzle."
She grabbed my arm. "Say nothing about this conversation or I'm dead. Darla, too."
I tore my arm away. "You're such a drama queen! Both of you! I'll keep my trap shut, just chill out. It's suffocating."
And with that, I left and danced my tits off.
* * * * *
After my performance, I was a sweaty mess. As I walked off stage and into the dressing room, I was given a towel to wipe myself. I was standing there with only some pasties, a pair of 6-inch heels and a layer of honey on my body. I dabbed my face when a man approached me.
"You were sensational. What is your name?"
He was a pretty hot older white dude, the kind I eat for breakfast and puke back up again for desert. The perfect John: respectful, classy and vanilla--you're in, you're out. Sometimes, you just talk and they pay you double.
"I'm Trasha. Trasha White." I said, extending my hand. "It's nice to make your acquaintance. And you are?"
"Hi Trasha, I'm Leonard. I've never seen you before--was that your first time performing here?"
"Yes, it certainly was. I normally don't take my clothes off while I'm singing--it's kind of one thing or the other with me. This was my first time combing the two and I think it came off pretty good."
"Well, it's certainly a catch tune. "Fist my pussy...fist my pussy, bitch!" It's great! And the honey-filled kiddie pool was a great touch."
I wiped a tiny bit of honey from my cunt and put it to Leonard's lips. "I love honey." I was flirting, yes, I know, but what else do you expect me to do? Get real!
"Mmmm..." He said licking my finger. "May I...taste your lips?"
"Only if you mean my pussy lips."
He nodded, lustfully.
"I want you to eat my pussy and then beat the ever-loving hell out of it with your huge cock!"
I threw my leg up and stabbed my heel into the door frame, giving him full VIP access to the party in my crotch.
* * * * *
After he handed me four hundred dollar bills and left, I felt like I had really accomplished something. In terms of trick-turning, that was both an enjoyable experience and a financially rewarding one. I felt like a fat Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and Leonard was my Richard Gere. But then it hit me: I just cheated on Cain.
I just cheated on Cain. I wasn't supposed to do that kind of stuff, but when you're caught up in the moment, you're caught up in the moment, right? And what was Leonard doing back stage anyway? I mean, if I wasn't supposed to get my connie pounded, why were men allowed near the dressing room? Part of me thinks Cain was just asking for it by having these lax policies.
But then it hit me again. I just fucked up, majorly. I cheated on Cain, my boyfriend, the new found love of my life. How could I do something like that to him? Was this self-sabotage? Did I not feel capable of true love?
And then it hit me in a different way. This man will kill me if he finds out. But would he find out? I mean, Leonard was just some random guy that came backstage, right?
As I was leaving, I got my answer. I was putting my fur coat on, getting ready to hop into Cain's limo when Toni pointed Leonard out to me and said. "Have you met Leonard yet?"
I let out a short laugh. "Have I ever. Does he come here a lot?"
She gave me a strange look. "Uh, yeah--he owns the place. He's Cain's business partner, didn't you know?"
I could have shit my pants. What the hell am I going to do????
Love,
Trasha
Warning [Part Two]
Hey Friends,
Mama was just standing at the door of her trailer, frozen. From fear, from shock, I couldn't tell.
"See you later!" I yelled from the car. "We're leaving you--forever!"
I told Cunt Face to pretend to back out. The trick worked--Mama turned to us and started waving her arms.
"STOP! STOP! Don't go! Don't leave me here!" She screamed.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, nonchalantly.
"Come here!" She screamed, waving us inside. "Bring the Cunt one, too. I think I'm remembering!"
Cunt Face and I met Mama at the door of the trailer and looked in with her. I tried to see the trailer from her point-of-view: as if I'd never seen it before.
She pointed to the bedroom door, down the hallway.
"I see fat people!" She whispered. "I see a big, huge, fat man. And I see myself scrubbing him. Did I take care of the obese? Was I a nurse?"
"No, Mama, you weren't a nurse--you were just a woman in love."
"With an obese man? Do I have a fat fetish? What the hell is wrong with me?"
So we sat down and I told her the story. Her eyes were wide with horror when I was done.
"I stole your husband? Trasha, what kind of mother am I? I'm so sorry! I promise I'll never steal another man from you as long as I live. And you can have that baby--I don't want her back. She's yours and she should be with you. I've taken enough from you as it is."
"Well, let's not get hasty. Starla really digs you and I think you two are great together. You keep her."
"No, no, I insist--a daughter belongs with her mother."
"That's a really antiquated way of thinking. There are all kinds of new families these days--single-parent, blended, all that jazz. She's yours. Keep her."
This went back and forth for a while before Cunt Face butted in.
"Enough!" She yelled. "Let's not get into this now. Mama, you still don't have your memory back and once you are in your right mind again, then we'll discuss what happens with Starla. Now, do you have any other memories? Anything at all?"
She closed her eyes. "Yes, I think so...but it's way too weird, I may not be remembering or seeing it clearly."
"If it's weird, you probably are remembering correctly." I replied.
"Shhh!" Said Cunt Face, slapping my arm. "Let her concentrate!"
Mama looked like she was in a deep trance. I could just picture a rush of images flashing before her mind's eye.
"I see...I see...a...donkey?"
I clapped my hands together. "YES! What else? What else?"
"I see...an audience and a donkey and I see myself, in a backstage-like area, looking at myself in the mirror. I've got on a whore-ish outfit, sequins. Is it a circus? I can't tell. Was I in the circus?" She said, opening her eyes finally.
"Not quite," I answered, trying to hold back laughter.
"Close your eyes, Mama, go back there. What else do you see?"
Mama closed her eyes and bit down on her lip. "I see myself...going out into the arena and the applause--the applause was wild. They were there to see ME. They LOVED me. They were throwing money into the arena--they were throwing MONEY at me! I see myself going up to the donkey and...wait a minute...what is this...I..." Her eyes snapped open. "Oh dear God, what did I do to that donkey?!"
I was full-on guffawing now. "DONKEY SHOW! You were doing a donkey show. Before you had us, you toured Mexico with the donkey shows. You were a star--no one could handle a donkey like you. Well, that is, until I came along."
Mama put her head in her hands. "Oh, this is terrible! My life has been one big sin-fest! I'm a disgusting person..."
"Is that enough for now Mama? Should we leave?" Said Cunt Face.
Mama nodded. "Let's go. This is just too sick; I can't take anymore."
And we left and Mama went right back into her room when we arrived at my trailer. I can imagine how overwhelmed she must feel, having those memories rush back to her like that. I wonder how she'll take the rest of them.
Time for a drink!
Love,
Trasha
Mama was just standing at the door of her trailer, frozen. From fear, from shock, I couldn't tell.
"See you later!" I yelled from the car. "We're leaving you--forever!"
I told Cunt Face to pretend to back out. The trick worked--Mama turned to us and started waving her arms.
"STOP! STOP! Don't go! Don't leave me here!" She screamed.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, nonchalantly.
"Come here!" She screamed, waving us inside. "Bring the Cunt one, too. I think I'm remembering!"
Cunt Face and I met Mama at the door of the trailer and looked in with her. I tried to see the trailer from her point-of-view: as if I'd never seen it before.
She pointed to the bedroom door, down the hallway.
"I see fat people!" She whispered. "I see a big, huge, fat man. And I see myself scrubbing him. Did I take care of the obese? Was I a nurse?"
"No, Mama, you weren't a nurse--you were just a woman in love."
"With an obese man? Do I have a fat fetish? What the hell is wrong with me?"
So we sat down and I told her the story. Her eyes were wide with horror when I was done.
"I stole your husband? Trasha, what kind of mother am I? I'm so sorry! I promise I'll never steal another man from you as long as I live. And you can have that baby--I don't want her back. She's yours and she should be with you. I've taken enough from you as it is."
"Well, let's not get hasty. Starla really digs you and I think you two are great together. You keep her."
"No, no, I insist--a daughter belongs with her mother."
"That's a really antiquated way of thinking. There are all kinds of new families these days--single-parent, blended, all that jazz. She's yours. Keep her."
This went back and forth for a while before Cunt Face butted in.
"Enough!" She yelled. "Let's not get into this now. Mama, you still don't have your memory back and once you are in your right mind again, then we'll discuss what happens with Starla. Now, do you have any other memories? Anything at all?"
She closed her eyes. "Yes, I think so...but it's way too weird, I may not be remembering or seeing it clearly."
"If it's weird, you probably are remembering correctly." I replied.
"Shhh!" Said Cunt Face, slapping my arm. "Let her concentrate!"
Mama looked like she was in a deep trance. I could just picture a rush of images flashing before her mind's eye.
"I see...I see...a...donkey?"
I clapped my hands together. "YES! What else? What else?"
"I see...an audience and a donkey and I see myself, in a backstage-like area, looking at myself in the mirror. I've got on a whore-ish outfit, sequins. Is it a circus? I can't tell. Was I in the circus?" She said, opening her eyes finally.
"Not quite," I answered, trying to hold back laughter.
"Close your eyes, Mama, go back there. What else do you see?"
Mama closed her eyes and bit down on her lip. "I see myself...going out into the arena and the applause--the applause was wild. They were there to see ME. They LOVED me. They were throwing money into the arena--they were throwing MONEY at me! I see myself going up to the donkey and...wait a minute...what is this...I..." Her eyes snapped open. "Oh dear God, what did I do to that donkey?!"
I was full-on guffawing now. "DONKEY SHOW! You were doing a donkey show. Before you had us, you toured Mexico with the donkey shows. You were a star--no one could handle a donkey like you. Well, that is, until I came along."
Mama put her head in her hands. "Oh, this is terrible! My life has been one big sin-fest! I'm a disgusting person..."
"Is that enough for now Mama? Should we leave?" Said Cunt Face.
Mama nodded. "Let's go. This is just too sick; I can't take anymore."
And we left and Mama went right back into her room when we arrived at my trailer. I can imagine how overwhelmed she must feel, having those memories rush back to her like that. I wonder how she'll take the rest of them.
Time for a drink!
Love,
Trasha
Warning [Part One]
Hey Friends,
Thankfully, I was saved from Mama by a phone call from Cain. She had been locked in her room all day and came out only to go to the shitter or get something to eat and drink. Oh, yeah and cuss me out while doing all three. So when the phone rang, I was excited. And when it turned out to be Cain on the other end, I was beyond thrilled.
"Darling, are you home?" I asked. "I've missed you so much."
"Nah, baby, I ain't home yet--but I'm coming back real soon. Hey, look here--one of my girls left the club, so there is a vacant slot filled in our nightly revue. I'd hate to shorten the show, so what do you say you do that number you've been working on?"
"You mean, you want me to perform? When?"
"Tomorrow night. I want you to go to the club now, while it's early, and rehearse with the other girls. They'll take good care of you--they know better than not to."
This is exactly what I needed: a reason to stay out of the house and away from Mama.
"You got it!" I shrieked. I'll get all my stuff together and go down there now. I've been working really hard on it and know that I'll knock them dead. I do wish you could be there to see my big debut."
"I'll be there in spirit, baby. I'll see you soon, I promise."
Not soon enough, I thought as I hung up the phone. My pussy was throbbing, in need of some thick, hard man meat. It needed a beating and Cain had the cock to do it.
* * * * *
I arrived at the club like a star, via Cain's limo and personal escort to the backstage. There were several girls in various stage of undress and dress. I was ushered to an empty makeup table and shown where all the supplies were. I set down shortly thereafter, under harsh lights and began painting my face and doing my hair.
"Hi, I'm Toni," Said a young black girl to my right. "Are you Cain's new girl?"
"Yes, I am," I said, outlining my lips in the mirror.
"You're lucky. He treats his girls real good."
"Until they piss him off," Chimed in another black girl, who was securing a bra.
"Darla, shut up!" Snapped Toni.
"Girl, you know I speak my mind," Darla said, rolling nylons over her feet. "Watch out girl, if you know what's good for you." She was speaking to me now.
"Thanks for the advice," I said, brushing out some curls I had just put in with an iron.
"What's your name, by the way?" Asked Toni, in a sweet, friendly voice.
"Trasha. Trasha White. And I'm not only Cain's girlfriend, I'm also the lead singer of The Cunty Bitches. Ladies--I am a star."
"Oh, The Cunty Bitches. Sounds great." Darla said, stepping into a crystal encrusted g-string. I got the distinct impression she was mocking me!
* * * * *
Dress rehearsal went well, despite a few problems. I had to stop the song many times though because the sound man just couldn't get the mix right.
"You're ruining my song!" I screamed, stamping a high-heel clad foot. "Now take it from the top--and correctly this time!"
I nailed it, if I do say so myself. I was itching to show the patrons a thing or two--as well as set the bar for the other performers.
Cunt Face arrived to the club as I was changing back into my street clothes.
"Hey doll, you just missed the show. I killed it."
"Listen," Cunt Face spat, frantically. "Something is wrong with Mama. She's not acting right--I think she's losing her damn mind!"
Just what I needed: more Mama drama! "Where is she?"
"She's in the car. She is demanding that I bring her back to her trailer, regardless if it's burned down."
"You know, I think that's a good idea. Perhaps seeing her home will help jog her memory and bring back the Mama we know and tolerate."
Cunt Face was right, Mama was out of sorts when I got into the car.
"You look like trash. But I guess that's to be expected with a name like Trasha. Hey, the Cunt one--are you bringing me home or what?"
"Yes, Mama, Cunt Face is bringing you back to your burned down trailer. Enjoy the squalor."
"I'm in squalor now. It's only uphill from here, as far as I'm concerned."
How I wished that Cain would have erased Mama the way he erased PJ--but no, here she was.
I was relieved when we finally reached Jackson Trailer Park. Cunt Face pulled up next to Mama's trailer and turned off the car.
"Here we are: home sweet home. Shall we just dump her here, Cunt Face? I mean, I have things to do. Judge Judy is on soon."
"Don't bother escorting me!" Yelled Mama, leaving the car and bounding up her front porch. She turned the door and then--
--she froze.
[To Be Continued]
Love,
Trasha
Thankfully, I was saved from Mama by a phone call from Cain. She had been locked in her room all day and came out only to go to the shitter or get something to eat and drink. Oh, yeah and cuss me out while doing all three. So when the phone rang, I was excited. And when it turned out to be Cain on the other end, I was beyond thrilled.
"Darling, are you home?" I asked. "I've missed you so much."
"Nah, baby, I ain't home yet--but I'm coming back real soon. Hey, look here--one of my girls left the club, so there is a vacant slot filled in our nightly revue. I'd hate to shorten the show, so what do you say you do that number you've been working on?"
"You mean, you want me to perform? When?"
"Tomorrow night. I want you to go to the club now, while it's early, and rehearse with the other girls. They'll take good care of you--they know better than not to."
This is exactly what I needed: a reason to stay out of the house and away from Mama.
"You got it!" I shrieked. I'll get all my stuff together and go down there now. I've been working really hard on it and know that I'll knock them dead. I do wish you could be there to see my big debut."
"I'll be there in spirit, baby. I'll see you soon, I promise."
Not soon enough, I thought as I hung up the phone. My pussy was throbbing, in need of some thick, hard man meat. It needed a beating and Cain had the cock to do it.
* * * * *
I arrived at the club like a star, via Cain's limo and personal escort to the backstage. There were several girls in various stage of undress and dress. I was ushered to an empty makeup table and shown where all the supplies were. I set down shortly thereafter, under harsh lights and began painting my face and doing my hair.
"Hi, I'm Toni," Said a young black girl to my right. "Are you Cain's new girl?"
"Yes, I am," I said, outlining my lips in the mirror.
"You're lucky. He treats his girls real good."
"Until they piss him off," Chimed in another black girl, who was securing a bra.
"Darla, shut up!" Snapped Toni.
"Girl, you know I speak my mind," Darla said, rolling nylons over her feet. "Watch out girl, if you know what's good for you." She was speaking to me now.
"Thanks for the advice," I said, brushing out some curls I had just put in with an iron.
"What's your name, by the way?" Asked Toni, in a sweet, friendly voice.
"Trasha. Trasha White. And I'm not only Cain's girlfriend, I'm also the lead singer of The Cunty Bitches. Ladies--I am a star."
"Oh, The Cunty Bitches. Sounds great." Darla said, stepping into a crystal encrusted g-string. I got the distinct impression she was mocking me!
* * * * *
Dress rehearsal went well, despite a few problems. I had to stop the song many times though because the sound man just couldn't get the mix right.
"You're ruining my song!" I screamed, stamping a high-heel clad foot. "Now take it from the top--and correctly this time!"
I nailed it, if I do say so myself. I was itching to show the patrons a thing or two--as well as set the bar for the other performers.
Cunt Face arrived to the club as I was changing back into my street clothes.
"Hey doll, you just missed the show. I killed it."
"Listen," Cunt Face spat, frantically. "Something is wrong with Mama. She's not acting right--I think she's losing her damn mind!"
Just what I needed: more Mama drama! "Where is she?"
"She's in the car. She is demanding that I bring her back to her trailer, regardless if it's burned down."
"You know, I think that's a good idea. Perhaps seeing her home will help jog her memory and bring back the Mama we know and tolerate."
Cunt Face was right, Mama was out of sorts when I got into the car.
"You look like trash. But I guess that's to be expected with a name like Trasha. Hey, the Cunt one--are you bringing me home or what?"
"Yes, Mama, Cunt Face is bringing you back to your burned down trailer. Enjoy the squalor."
"I'm in squalor now. It's only uphill from here, as far as I'm concerned."
How I wished that Cain would have erased Mama the way he erased PJ--but no, here she was.
I was relieved when we finally reached Jackson Trailer Park. Cunt Face pulled up next to Mama's trailer and turned off the car.
"Here we are: home sweet home. Shall we just dump her here, Cunt Face? I mean, I have things to do. Judge Judy is on soon."
"Don't bother escorting me!" Yelled Mama, leaving the car and bounding up her front porch. She turned the door and then--
--she froze.
[To Be Continued]
Love,
Trasha
Jesus, Take the Wheel!
Hey Friends,
Being a Christian means you have to pretend you care about things when you really, really don't. It's just the "Christian" thing to do, you know? Well, I was your quintessential Christian, putting up with Amnesiac Mama.
"Where's my room?" She snapped as soon as we walked in the door.
"Go down the hall, first door on the left."
"Thank God. See you in the morning." And with that she stopped into her bedroom and slammed the door. Moments later she returned, agitated.
"Are you serious?" She yelled.
"What?" I asked, my Christian kindness wearing thin already.
"You're making me bunk with that baby? You've got to be kidding--I'll never sleep through the night!"
I never even thought about Mama not just coming back and taking care of Starla like she always had. She's the only one who knew what to do with that Piss/Puke/Shit Machine. Remember that Starla is the first and only child I have ever allowed to fester in my cunt for nine months. I was brand-spanking new to all of this!
"She's a baby--how much trouble could she be?" I rebutted, but she was waving her hand over her head, like my words were flies she was trying to swat down.
"No way, no way, no way. Get that kid out of that room or I'm going to throw her out myself!"
I rolled my eyes, exhaled heavily and reluctantly retrieved Starla from Mama's room. Her playpen was in the living room and since I sleep in the recliner anyway, I guess it wouldn't be too much to let her sleep next to me.
"Get out of my face, woman!" I yelled and pointed toward the hallway.
"Good. Night." She said and was gone.
"Jesus," I said to Starla, putting her in her playpen. "Could that woman get any more annoying?"
As soon as I set her down, she started to cry.
"Are you kidding me? Come on--go to sleep. Please?!"
She kept crying, disregarding my request.
"What the fuck am I supposed to do? Why is me holding you so much better than this playpen? You have more room in this playpen and can roll around all you want."
She started to scream now, reaching up, begging me to pick her up, in her baby way.
"Fine!" I picked her up and she immediately stopped crying. I bent back down to put her in the playpen again and sure enough, she started to howl.
"You are really trying to work my nerves, aren't you?"
She looked at me and I could totally understand her expression. It said: "Just hold me and shut up, bitch!"
I sat down in the recliner, Starla nestled in the crook of my arm. I reached for the remote and could barely grab it because of that damn baby. I did manage, but my cigarettes and beer were even farther away and there was no way I'd be able to get to them.
"Oh, you little brat," I mumbled, feeling a nicotine fit coming on.
Starla snuggled up to me and I noticed that our breathing had started to match. We inhaled and exhaled in rhythm. Her fat little body was warm against me and I could feel this flow of energy coming from her.
I pulled a blanket over us and we were both soon fast asleep, with America's Next Top Model re-runs playing on the TV.
Love,
Trasha
Being a Christian means you have to pretend you care about things when you really, really don't. It's just the "Christian" thing to do, you know? Well, I was your quintessential Christian, putting up with Amnesiac Mama.
"Where's my room?" She snapped as soon as we walked in the door.
"Go down the hall, first door on the left."
"Thank God. See you in the morning." And with that she stopped into her bedroom and slammed the door. Moments later she returned, agitated.
"Are you serious?" She yelled.
"What?" I asked, my Christian kindness wearing thin already.
"You're making me bunk with that baby? You've got to be kidding--I'll never sleep through the night!"
I never even thought about Mama not just coming back and taking care of Starla like she always had. She's the only one who knew what to do with that Piss/Puke/Shit Machine. Remember that Starla is the first and only child I have ever allowed to fester in my cunt for nine months. I was brand-spanking new to all of this!
"She's a baby--how much trouble could she be?" I rebutted, but she was waving her hand over her head, like my words were flies she was trying to swat down.
"No way, no way, no way. Get that kid out of that room or I'm going to throw her out myself!"
I rolled my eyes, exhaled heavily and reluctantly retrieved Starla from Mama's room. Her playpen was in the living room and since I sleep in the recliner anyway, I guess it wouldn't be too much to let her sleep next to me.
"Get out of my face, woman!" I yelled and pointed toward the hallway.
"Good. Night." She said and was gone.
"Jesus," I said to Starla, putting her in her playpen. "Could that woman get any more annoying?"
As soon as I set her down, she started to cry.
"Are you kidding me? Come on--go to sleep. Please?!"
She kept crying, disregarding my request.
"What the fuck am I supposed to do? Why is me holding you so much better than this playpen? You have more room in this playpen and can roll around all you want."
She started to scream now, reaching up, begging me to pick her up, in her baby way.
"Fine!" I picked her up and she immediately stopped crying. I bent back down to put her in the playpen again and sure enough, she started to howl.
"You are really trying to work my nerves, aren't you?"
She looked at me and I could totally understand her expression. It said: "Just hold me and shut up, bitch!"
I sat down in the recliner, Starla nestled in the crook of my arm. I reached for the remote and could barely grab it because of that damn baby. I did manage, but my cigarettes and beer were even farther away and there was no way I'd be able to get to them.
"Oh, you little brat," I mumbled, feeling a nicotine fit coming on.
Starla snuggled up to me and I noticed that our breathing had started to match. We inhaled and exhaled in rhythm. Her fat little body was warm against me and I could feel this flow of energy coming from her.
I pulled a blanket over us and we were both soon fast asleep, with America's Next Top Model re-runs playing on the TV.
Love,
Trasha
Thrown Out of the Hospital
Hey Friends,
I was fixing to settle in for the night when the hospital called. Apparently, Mama was misbehaving so much that they decided to throw her out! When I got to the hospital to pick her up, she was fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, her feet bobbing over the edge.
"Hey," I said, quietly. I had no idea what I'd be met with so I thought it best to be cautious.
"I"m dressed like a whore." She said, referencing the spandex one piece and six inch heels she had gone to the hospital in.
"Well, you do love form-fitting materials."
"Disgusting," She spat. "Are you taking me out of here? Do I have to go home with you?
I reached for her hand. "Yes, I'm afraid you're coming with me."
She was quiet most of the way home. She didn't pipe up until I lit a Virginia Slim.
"Must you smoke?" She snapped. "I have to breathe your air, you know."
"Suck it up, old woman. I'm not going to stop smoking until they smoke me."
"That's a great attitude. But it's not enough to kill yourself; you want to take the rest of us down with you!"
She rolled down her window.
"Please tell me that I'm independently wealthy," She moaned, staring at the passing lights.
"Sorry, lady, not quite. Your trailer just burned down so you're staying with me."
"My trailer? I lived in a trailer?"
"Yep and you still are because I live in one, too."
"Oh sweet Jesus, save me from this Hell! I sure set a good example for you, didn't I? Christ on a crutch!"
"Oh, you have no idea. But I'll fill you in on all of that, in time."
"How about you do me a favor and just keep all that mess to yourself? I get more and more depressed the more you flap your gums."
"It's great to have you home, Mama." I said, dryly. I hope Mama can survive this amnesia because I'm this close to killing the bitch!
Love,
Trasha
I was fixing to settle in for the night when the hospital called. Apparently, Mama was misbehaving so much that they decided to throw her out! When I got to the hospital to pick her up, she was fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, her feet bobbing over the edge.
"Hey," I said, quietly. I had no idea what I'd be met with so I thought it best to be cautious.
"I"m dressed like a whore." She said, referencing the spandex one piece and six inch heels she had gone to the hospital in.
"Well, you do love form-fitting materials."
"Disgusting," She spat. "Are you taking me out of here? Do I have to go home with you?
I reached for her hand. "Yes, I'm afraid you're coming with me."
She was quiet most of the way home. She didn't pipe up until I lit a Virginia Slim.
"Must you smoke?" She snapped. "I have to breathe your air, you know."
"Suck it up, old woman. I'm not going to stop smoking until they smoke me."
"That's a great attitude. But it's not enough to kill yourself; you want to take the rest of us down with you!"
She rolled down her window.
"Please tell me that I'm independently wealthy," She moaned, staring at the passing lights.
"Sorry, lady, not quite. Your trailer just burned down so you're staying with me."
"My trailer? I lived in a trailer?"
"Yep and you still are because I live in one, too."
"Oh sweet Jesus, save me from this Hell! I sure set a good example for you, didn't I? Christ on a crutch!"
"Oh, you have no idea. But I'll fill you in on all of that, in time."
"How about you do me a favor and just keep all that mess to yourself? I get more and more depressed the more you flap your gums."
"It's great to have you home, Mama." I said, dryly. I hope Mama can survive this amnesia because I'm this close to killing the bitch!
Love,
Trasha
Good News & Bad News About Mama
Hey Friends,
Cunt Face and I are at the hospital. We were greeted by a doctor before we were let in to see Mama. He said he had good news and bad news for us, regarding her condition. If you're like me, you prefer the BAD news first, but since Cunt Face is a bit more fragile than me, we decided to go with the good news first.
"The good news is, your mother has come out of her coma. She is awake and alert and giving the nurses hell."
"That sounds like Mama!" Cunt Face said, overjoyed at the news.
"But there is bad news, too, like I said," Continued the doctor. "It appears she has amnesia and at this stage, we cannot tell if this will be temporary or permanent."
"Amnesia?!" I yelled, not meaning to raise my voice, but unable to control it regardless. "You mean, she doesn't know who she is? She lost her memory?!"
The doctor nodded. "I'm afraid that is exactly what has happened. Due to her memory loss, she will not know who either of you are. She doesn't even know who she is, where she is or why she's in the hospital. Due to her condition and its delicateness, I thought it best for you to give her all that information."
I was floored. This shit was right out of a soap opera! I have never known anyone that lost their memory. How could I help Mama to remember who she was?! I looked at Cunt Face and she told me in my head: "I'm really worried, Trasha."
I answered her in the same fashion, without spoken words. "We'll get through this, I swear."
She reached out and gripped my band, to tell me she heard me loud and clear. Hand-in-hand, we entered Mama's hospital room.
Mama looked even smaller with the large machines surrounding her and with wires and tubes and whatnot going in and out of her. She had a black eye and her head was bandaged. She looked like a wounded bird.
She looked at Cunt Face then back at me then back at Cunt Face and then back at me again. "Who the hell are you?" She snapped, then touched her head and winced. "God dammit, my head is killing me. What the fuck is going on here?!"
I sat in a chair next to her bed. "We're your daughters, Mama. I'm Trasha and this is Cunt Face."
"Trasha? CUNT Face? Are you fucking kidding me with those names?"
Cunt Face and I exchanged glances. "Yes, Mama, that is what you named us and despite it all, we've grown to accept and love ourselves."
"That's crazy! What kind of mother would do that to her children! How the hell did I end up in this place?"
"You were hit by a car, Mama. You were hurt pretty bad and the doctor said you have amnesia. They don't know if you'll ever get your memory back, but Cunt Face and I will do our best to help you remember everything!"
"I'm tired--they are giving me something to make me sleepy, those bastard nurses. I think they just want to steal from me while I'm konked out."
It was funny, though Mama had no memory of who she was, she sure acted as mean as ever! Maybe this amnesia wasn't so severe...
"I don't want to sound rude you two, but that was kind of a hint for you to get the hell out!" Mama said, pointing to the door.
"OK, Mama. We'll go so you can get some rest. But we'll be back again and we'll bring Starla next time."
"Who the hell is that? At least her name is half-way normal."
"It's your daughter--I mean, your granddaughter. She's my biological daughter, but you've been raising her."
"I've been raising her? Why not you? What the fuck is so wrong with you that you can't raise your own kid?"
I shrugged. "It's a long story. We'll fill you in on all that in time. For now, just rest."
"Bye Mama," said Cunt Face, waving.
"Hey, you, the Cunt one. You kind of look like a dude."
"It's a long story, Mama," I said, trying to usher Cunt Face out the door.
"Are there any SHORT stories you can tell me? Jesus Fucking Christ!"'
We closed the door behind us when we heard Mama yell: "...and Stay Out!"
We asked the doctor if that kind of behavior was normal for amnesia patients and he said it was. Imagine waking up and not knowing ANYTHING about who you were, where you were, nothing. It must be pretty scary, so I didn't let what Mama say get to me.
Cunt Face and I went back home, where Starla had been hanging out in her playpen. I picked her up and noticed her diaper was heavy with piss and shit.
"Here you go, Cunt Face. Starla needs a diaper change."
I figured if Cunt Face wants to become a woman, she should be given all the fun privileges of womanhood.
Love,
Trasha
Cunt Face and I are at the hospital. We were greeted by a doctor before we were let in to see Mama. He said he had good news and bad news for us, regarding her condition. If you're like me, you prefer the BAD news first, but since Cunt Face is a bit more fragile than me, we decided to go with the good news first.
"The good news is, your mother has come out of her coma. She is awake and alert and giving the nurses hell."
"That sounds like Mama!" Cunt Face said, overjoyed at the news.
"But there is bad news, too, like I said," Continued the doctor. "It appears she has amnesia and at this stage, we cannot tell if this will be temporary or permanent."
"Amnesia?!" I yelled, not meaning to raise my voice, but unable to control it regardless. "You mean, she doesn't know who she is? She lost her memory?!"
The doctor nodded. "I'm afraid that is exactly what has happened. Due to her memory loss, she will not know who either of you are. She doesn't even know who she is, where she is or why she's in the hospital. Due to her condition and its delicateness, I thought it best for you to give her all that information."
I was floored. This shit was right out of a soap opera! I have never known anyone that lost their memory. How could I help Mama to remember who she was?! I looked at Cunt Face and she told me in my head: "I'm really worried, Trasha."
I answered her in the same fashion, without spoken words. "We'll get through this, I swear."
She reached out and gripped my band, to tell me she heard me loud and clear. Hand-in-hand, we entered Mama's hospital room.
Mama looked even smaller with the large machines surrounding her and with wires and tubes and whatnot going in and out of her. She had a black eye and her head was bandaged. She looked like a wounded bird.
She looked at Cunt Face then back at me then back at Cunt Face and then back at me again. "Who the hell are you?" She snapped, then touched her head and winced. "God dammit, my head is killing me. What the fuck is going on here?!"
I sat in a chair next to her bed. "We're your daughters, Mama. I'm Trasha and this is Cunt Face."
"Trasha? CUNT Face? Are you fucking kidding me with those names?"
Cunt Face and I exchanged glances. "Yes, Mama, that is what you named us and despite it all, we've grown to accept and love ourselves."
"That's crazy! What kind of mother would do that to her children! How the hell did I end up in this place?"
"You were hit by a car, Mama. You were hurt pretty bad and the doctor said you have amnesia. They don't know if you'll ever get your memory back, but Cunt Face and I will do our best to help you remember everything!"
"I'm tired--they are giving me something to make me sleepy, those bastard nurses. I think they just want to steal from me while I'm konked out."
It was funny, though Mama had no memory of who she was, she sure acted as mean as ever! Maybe this amnesia wasn't so severe...
"I don't want to sound rude you two, but that was kind of a hint for you to get the hell out!" Mama said, pointing to the door.
"OK, Mama. We'll go so you can get some rest. But we'll be back again and we'll bring Starla next time."
"Who the hell is that? At least her name is half-way normal."
"It's your daughter--I mean, your granddaughter. She's my biological daughter, but you've been raising her."
"I've been raising her? Why not you? What the fuck is so wrong with you that you can't raise your own kid?"
I shrugged. "It's a long story. We'll fill you in on all that in time. For now, just rest."
"Bye Mama," said Cunt Face, waving.
"Hey, you, the Cunt one. You kind of look like a dude."
"It's a long story, Mama," I said, trying to usher Cunt Face out the door.
"Are there any SHORT stories you can tell me? Jesus Fucking Christ!"'
We closed the door behind us when we heard Mama yell: "...and Stay Out!"
We asked the doctor if that kind of behavior was normal for amnesia patients and he said it was. Imagine waking up and not knowing ANYTHING about who you were, where you were, nothing. It must be pretty scary, so I didn't let what Mama say get to me.
Cunt Face and I went back home, where Starla had been hanging out in her playpen. I picked her up and noticed her diaper was heavy with piss and shit.
"Here you go, Cunt Face. Starla needs a diaper change."
I figured if Cunt Face wants to become a woman, she should be given all the fun privileges of womanhood.
Love,
Trasha
Thinking of Mama
Hey Friends,
Between the meth that I ingested and the situation with Mama, I wasn't able to sleep last night. I had cleaned everything there was to clean earlier in the day, so I decided to take a drive and went back to Jackson Trailer Park. I guess I thought if I was somewhere that really felt like Mama, it would make me feel better.
The police had taped off entrance into her trailer, because they had found PJ's partially-dismembered 700 lb. body in the bedroom. Police tape has never stopped me before and it certainly wasn't going to stop me now.
I entered the dank living room, sooty and blackened in places from the fire. I looked at the pictures on the wall--me at the age of 4, wearing my first sequin tube top, Cunt Face (when she was a boy) sliding a toy into his pocket at K Mart. She really captured us at our core--me, a tramp and Cunt Face, a thief. I never noticed it before, but Mama was a really talented photographer! The things she could do with a disposable were mesmerizing.
Scattered in the living room were some of Starla's toys, though what a baby could do with all that junk is beyond me. But it panged me because it reminded me of Mama and Starla's closeness. A bond she and I didn't share when I was a kid because she was too busy getting drunk, doing drugs and turning tricks to pay any attention to me and Cunt Face. Yeah, a little of me is jealous of Starla, but she is a baby and babies are boring. When she gets old enough to open her trap, that's when the interest will wane!
The cold of the trailer was beginning to wear on me so I got back into the car and drove around our old stomping grounds in Warren. The Memphis Lounge, Louie's Bar, The Pony Keg, White Way (my favorite truck stop--great food and great business in the parking lot)...everything was still standing and business was as usual. I was angry--how could anyone be going on with their lives when Mama was in the hospital, fighting for her life?!
I stopped in a White Way and sat in my usual booth (the same booth I sat at with Shonda, that back-stabbing bitch). I ordered a coffee and a patty melt with fries. I don't why I bothered, it's not like I would be able to eat it.
The bell that hung above the door tinkled as one of my regular customers, a trucker named Jerry, came inside. He saw me and then smiled widely.
"Hey, T!" He said, joyfully. "How you darlin'? How's your Mama? You two still doing those 2 for 1 specials?"
"Hi Jerry. If you don't mind, I'm off the clock right now."
His face soured. "Well, fine then. WHORE!" He then sat at the very end of the counter, as far from me as he could be.
Normally I'd never give such poor customer service--I'm no dummy; I know they pay my bills. But my mind was one place and one place only: in that hospital room with Mama.
I picked at my food, finished my coffee and then left. The sun was finally coming up, ending a shitty, shitty night. Hopefully today would be better. I am going to go visit Mama soon, when Cunt Face gets up and gets ready.
I'll keep you posted.
Love,
Trasha
Between the meth that I ingested and the situation with Mama, I wasn't able to sleep last night. I had cleaned everything there was to clean earlier in the day, so I decided to take a drive and went back to Jackson Trailer Park. I guess I thought if I was somewhere that really felt like Mama, it would make me feel better.
The police had taped off entrance into her trailer, because they had found PJ's partially-dismembered 700 lb. body in the bedroom. Police tape has never stopped me before and it certainly wasn't going to stop me now.
I entered the dank living room, sooty and blackened in places from the fire. I looked at the pictures on the wall--me at the age of 4, wearing my first sequin tube top, Cunt Face (when she was a boy) sliding a toy into his pocket at K Mart. She really captured us at our core--me, a tramp and Cunt Face, a thief. I never noticed it before, but Mama was a really talented photographer! The things she could do with a disposable were mesmerizing.
Scattered in the living room were some of Starla's toys, though what a baby could do with all that junk is beyond me. But it panged me because it reminded me of Mama and Starla's closeness. A bond she and I didn't share when I was a kid because she was too busy getting drunk, doing drugs and turning tricks to pay any attention to me and Cunt Face. Yeah, a little of me is jealous of Starla, but she is a baby and babies are boring. When she gets old enough to open her trap, that's when the interest will wane!
The cold of the trailer was beginning to wear on me so I got back into the car and drove around our old stomping grounds in Warren. The Memphis Lounge, Louie's Bar, The Pony Keg, White Way (my favorite truck stop--great food and great business in the parking lot)...everything was still standing and business was as usual. I was angry--how could anyone be going on with their lives when Mama was in the hospital, fighting for her life?!
I stopped in a White Way and sat in my usual booth (the same booth I sat at with Shonda, that back-stabbing bitch). I ordered a coffee and a patty melt with fries. I don't why I bothered, it's not like I would be able to eat it.
The bell that hung above the door tinkled as one of my regular customers, a trucker named Jerry, came inside. He saw me and then smiled widely.
"Hey, T!" He said, joyfully. "How you darlin'? How's your Mama? You two still doing those 2 for 1 specials?"
"Hi Jerry. If you don't mind, I'm off the clock right now."
His face soured. "Well, fine then. WHORE!" He then sat at the very end of the counter, as far from me as he could be.
Normally I'd never give such poor customer service--I'm no dummy; I know they pay my bills. But my mind was one place and one place only: in that hospital room with Mama.
I picked at my food, finished my coffee and then left. The sun was finally coming up, ending a shitty, shitty night. Hopefully today would be better. I am going to go visit Mama soon, when Cunt Face gets up and gets ready.
I'll keep you posted.
Love,
Trasha
Horrible Accident!!! [Part Two]
Hey Friends,
As passionate as I am for my work (whoring, doing porn, singing), I'm a very non-emotional person. I just don't deal with them, you know? I feel like stone and have always felt like stone, so whenever that stone begins to crack and true, honest emotion pours out...well, it's too much for me to bare.
Cunt Face put her arms around me and pulled me close. I sobbed and sobbed, like I have never done in the 30 plus years I've been on this god forsaken planet. Fearing I would soil her silk top, I pulled away.
"I don't know what I'd do without her, Cunt Face. We fight a lot, sure--what mother and daughter don't? But I love that old lady. She has taught me everything I know in life. Whoring, bingoing, singing...I got it all from her."
Cunt Face was also emotional, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I know what you mean. She taught me how to spot a Mark. She showed me how to make a shank out of a chair leg and even where to stab someone, so they don't die."
"She's given us so much," I sobbed.
A older male doctor (a Mexican doctor no less), approached us.
"Ms. White?" He asked, looking at me and then looking at Cunt Face.
"Yes?" We responded, simultaneously.
"Is your mother Bonnie White?"
"Yes," I said.
"She's sustained major head injuries from the accident. Her body is just cuts and bruises, nothing that won't easily heal. But her head injuries are what concern us and we had to perform emergency brain surgery on her."
"Brain surgery?" Asked Cunt Face. "What do you mean?"
"We had to release the pressure building in her skull, which saved her life. We won't know more until she is conscious, and because of the state she is in, I don't see that happening anytime soon."
"Are you saying she's in a coma?" I was worried beyond belief now. That was as bad as being dead, in my opinion.
"Yes, Ms. White. But we are confident that it's temporary. Go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow. No use in you being uncomfortable out here, being such pretty ladies."
He winked at us and walked away.
"Even in the face of death, men still want sex." I spat, disgusted in the race that made my pussy feel so, so good.
Cunt Face grabbed my hand. "Let's go home."
And we did and I can barely even think about the words I'm typing. All I am thinking about is Mama in her hospital bed, in some vegetative state. Would she come out of the coma? And if she did, would she still be the same Mama we've always known? I have no idea, but I'll let you know all know as soon as I find out more.
Pray for her. Please.
Love,
Trasha
As passionate as I am for my work (whoring, doing porn, singing), I'm a very non-emotional person. I just don't deal with them, you know? I feel like stone and have always felt like stone, so whenever that stone begins to crack and true, honest emotion pours out...well, it's too much for me to bare.
Cunt Face put her arms around me and pulled me close. I sobbed and sobbed, like I have never done in the 30 plus years I've been on this god forsaken planet. Fearing I would soil her silk top, I pulled away.
"I don't know what I'd do without her, Cunt Face. We fight a lot, sure--what mother and daughter don't? But I love that old lady. She has taught me everything I know in life. Whoring, bingoing, singing...I got it all from her."
Cunt Face was also emotional, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I know what you mean. She taught me how to spot a Mark. She showed me how to make a shank out of a chair leg and even where to stab someone, so they don't die."
"She's given us so much," I sobbed.
A older male doctor (a Mexican doctor no less), approached us.
"Ms. White?" He asked, looking at me and then looking at Cunt Face.
"Yes?" We responded, simultaneously.
"Is your mother Bonnie White?"
"Yes," I said.
"She's sustained major head injuries from the accident. Her body is just cuts and bruises, nothing that won't easily heal. But her head injuries are what concern us and we had to perform emergency brain surgery on her."
"Brain surgery?" Asked Cunt Face. "What do you mean?"
"We had to release the pressure building in her skull, which saved her life. We won't know more until she is conscious, and because of the state she is in, I don't see that happening anytime soon."
"Are you saying she's in a coma?" I was worried beyond belief now. That was as bad as being dead, in my opinion.
"Yes, Ms. White. But we are confident that it's temporary. Go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow. No use in you being uncomfortable out here, being such pretty ladies."
He winked at us and walked away.
"Even in the face of death, men still want sex." I spat, disgusted in the race that made my pussy feel so, so good.
Cunt Face grabbed my hand. "Let's go home."
And we did and I can barely even think about the words I'm typing. All I am thinking about is Mama in her hospital bed, in some vegetative state. Would she come out of the coma? And if she did, would she still be the same Mama we've always known? I have no idea, but I'll let you know all know as soon as I find out more.
Pray for her. Please.
Love,
Trasha
Horrible Accident!!! [Part One]
Hey Friends,
I'm going to try my best to not sound like a complete moron and tell you everything slowly and coherently. I will need to tell you everything in pieces as it's just too complex to put into words all at once.
I need to figure out where to start...I should probably start where I left off last time, huh?
I had taken Starla from Mama because it was so slippery out I was afraid she'd fall down and hurt herself and the baby. Mama, wearing heels as usual, was careful navigating the WalMart parking lot.
I opened the driver's side door of my car, lifted the seat and put Starla in the back. I didn't have a car seat (why would I?) so I just wrapped her in a shirt I found and tightened the seat belt as best I could.
That's when it happened.
A car came fish-tailing into the row I was parked in. The ice was so thick that the car was out of control. Mama was bending down to fix her shoe when the car smashed into her. The driver probably didn't see Mama or due to the conditions of the parking lot, just couldn't stop in time. Mama went flying over a car and landed in a bloody heap on the hood of a Sedan.
The car that hit her went skidding off and had disappeared around a corner before I knew it.
I ran to her. "Mama, Mama!" I screamed into her ear, but she was unconscious. "Help! Call 911, somebody!" I cried, looking around for someone, anyone.
A scuzzy guy with a beer belly and stained tee shirt was pushing a cart. I looked him in the eye and said: "Please, call 911! My mother just got hit by a car and the driver took off!"
"Fuck you!" He said and kept walking.
"You fat fuck! You FAT FUCK!" I screamed. I turned, looked around and no one seemed to take any notice of us. I thought people were supposed to be nicer in the country, but I guess I was wrong, wrong, WRONG!
I had to leave Mama's side to go into WalMart so I could call 911 my god damned self. I was greeted by some lady, probably a retired volunteer.
"Welcome to WalMart!" She said, smiling.
"Shut up!" I commanded. "My mother was just hit by a car and the driver has sped off. She is hurt real bad and needs an ambulance. Where's a phone? I need to call 911!"
She brought me over to the Customer Service desk, where she told one of the women to let me use the phone. They let me, unbelievably. I called an ambulance and they arrived twenty or so minutes later.
I rode in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital. I looked down at Mama, an oxygen mask on her blood-covered face. her eyes closed, seemingly dead to the world. I was holding Starla close, thinking that we couldn't lose her. We BOTH needed her. Starla was crying--she knew something wasn't right. I did my best to console her, but I know that she needs Mama, not me.
I called Cunt Face and she arrived some time later, with two coffees.
"Any news yet?" She asked, sitting down. She was wearing a fierce mink coat and matching hat, like a Russian dignitary.
"No," I said, taking a sip of the coffee. "I can't fucking believe it, Cunt Face. We had just made amends and were...well, we were just walking to the car! We were on our way home...how could this happen? And the motherfuckers who did it got away! They just kept driving and never bothered to come back."
Miracle of all miracles, I actually began to cry.
[To Be Continued]
Love,
Trasha
I'm going to try my best to not sound like a complete moron and tell you everything slowly and coherently. I will need to tell you everything in pieces as it's just too complex to put into words all at once.
I need to figure out where to start...I should probably start where I left off last time, huh?
I had taken Starla from Mama because it was so slippery out I was afraid she'd fall down and hurt herself and the baby. Mama, wearing heels as usual, was careful navigating the WalMart parking lot.
I opened the driver's side door of my car, lifted the seat and put Starla in the back. I didn't have a car seat (why would I?) so I just wrapped her in a shirt I found and tightened the seat belt as best I could.
That's when it happened.
A car came fish-tailing into the row I was parked in. The ice was so thick that the car was out of control. Mama was bending down to fix her shoe when the car smashed into her. The driver probably didn't see Mama or due to the conditions of the parking lot, just couldn't stop in time. Mama went flying over a car and landed in a bloody heap on the hood of a Sedan.
The car that hit her went skidding off and had disappeared around a corner before I knew it.
I ran to her. "Mama, Mama!" I screamed into her ear, but she was unconscious. "Help! Call 911, somebody!" I cried, looking around for someone, anyone.
A scuzzy guy with a beer belly and stained tee shirt was pushing a cart. I looked him in the eye and said: "Please, call 911! My mother just got hit by a car and the driver took off!"
"Fuck you!" He said and kept walking.
"You fat fuck! You FAT FUCK!" I screamed. I turned, looked around and no one seemed to take any notice of us. I thought people were supposed to be nicer in the country, but I guess I was wrong, wrong, WRONG!
I had to leave Mama's side to go into WalMart so I could call 911 my god damned self. I was greeted by some lady, probably a retired volunteer.
"Welcome to WalMart!" She said, smiling.
"Shut up!" I commanded. "My mother was just hit by a car and the driver has sped off. She is hurt real bad and needs an ambulance. Where's a phone? I need to call 911!"
She brought me over to the Customer Service desk, where she told one of the women to let me use the phone. They let me, unbelievably. I called an ambulance and they arrived twenty or so minutes later.
I rode in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital. I looked down at Mama, an oxygen mask on her blood-covered face. her eyes closed, seemingly dead to the world. I was holding Starla close, thinking that we couldn't lose her. We BOTH needed her. Starla was crying--she knew something wasn't right. I did my best to console her, but I know that she needs Mama, not me.
I called Cunt Face and she arrived some time later, with two coffees.
"Any news yet?" She asked, sitting down. She was wearing a fierce mink coat and matching hat, like a Russian dignitary.
"No," I said, taking a sip of the coffee. "I can't fucking believe it, Cunt Face. We had just made amends and were...well, we were just walking to the car! We were on our way home...how could this happen? And the motherfuckers who did it got away! They just kept driving and never bothered to come back."
Miracle of all miracles, I actually began to cry.
[To Be Continued]
Love,
Trasha
Coming Home
Hey Friends,
I still had some greenbacks leftover from the allowance Cain gave me and Cunt Face, so I decided to go out and spend some of them! I did what any girl in Downriver, Michigan would do with a pocket full of cash: I went to WalMart!
After some time shopping, I loaded up my car with my bags when I spotted Mama and Starla sitting out front. Mama had a cardboard sign that read: "I NEED TO FEED MY GRANDBABY! MY WHORE OF A DAUGHTER THREW US OUT!"
I slammed the trunk shut and walked over to them.
"I could sue you for slander, you know." I said, looking down at the two of them, their faces red from the cold.
"Fuck you, I'm workin'." Mama replied, not even glancing at me.
"Mama, come on--at least stay with me until you find somewhere else. I don't think you and Starla should be out here, begging for money. You look cheap."
"Why don't you just go call your pimp and leave us alone!"
I crouched down. "He's not my pimp, Mama. He's my lover and a damn good one, too. Now, stop the drama and come home with me."
She looked at me, her eyes welling with tears. "I feel like you forgot all about us once that black showed up. You've changed--you never used to care about having a man and now, he's all you talk about! What about the band? We haven't even written any new songs together or practiced or performed or nothing!"
I couldn't help but smile--she was so cute when she spilled her guts like that. "Mama...I'm sorry. I will make more time for you and for the band. I promise you, I will. We'll make that country record you've always dreamed of making."
Her eyes lit up: "You mean, like a real honky-tonk record?"
I nodded. "You got it! I'll even let you sing lead on a song for this new album."
"Really?!" She was beaming. "Oh, Trasha, that would be a dream come true. I don't want to steal your spotlight or anything, but I have always wanted my moment, you know? Maybe I'll even get some fans of my own!"
I extended my hand. "Come on Mama, let's go."
She took my hand and with her free arm, lifted Starla up. There was ice on the ground, so she could barely walk and hold the baby without almost falling.
"Let me take Starla, Mama. I don't want you to fall down!"
She gave me a strange look. "You mean, you actually want to HOLD your own daughter?"
I looked at Starla's chubby little face. She smiled at me, then reached a mitten-covered hand out and lightly patted my face and grabbed my nose. I started to get chest pains...I was actually feeling something.
It was love.
Love,
Trasha
I still had some greenbacks leftover from the allowance Cain gave me and Cunt Face, so I decided to go out and spend some of them! I did what any girl in Downriver, Michigan would do with a pocket full of cash: I went to WalMart!
After some time shopping, I loaded up my car with my bags when I spotted Mama and Starla sitting out front. Mama had a cardboard sign that read: "I NEED TO FEED MY GRANDBABY! MY WHORE OF A DAUGHTER THREW US OUT!"
I slammed the trunk shut and walked over to them.
"I could sue you for slander, you know." I said, looking down at the two of them, their faces red from the cold.
"Fuck you, I'm workin'." Mama replied, not even glancing at me.
"Mama, come on--at least stay with me until you find somewhere else. I don't think you and Starla should be out here, begging for money. You look cheap."
"Why don't you just go call your pimp and leave us alone!"
I crouched down. "He's not my pimp, Mama. He's my lover and a damn good one, too. Now, stop the drama and come home with me."
She looked at me, her eyes welling with tears. "I feel like you forgot all about us once that black showed up. You've changed--you never used to care about having a man and now, he's all you talk about! What about the band? We haven't even written any new songs together or practiced or performed or nothing!"
I couldn't help but smile--she was so cute when she spilled her guts like that. "Mama...I'm sorry. I will make more time for you and for the band. I promise you, I will. We'll make that country record you've always dreamed of making."
Her eyes lit up: "You mean, like a real honky-tonk record?"
I nodded. "You got it! I'll even let you sing lead on a song for this new album."
"Really?!" She was beaming. "Oh, Trasha, that would be a dream come true. I don't want to steal your spotlight or anything, but I have always wanted my moment, you know? Maybe I'll even get some fans of my own!"
I extended my hand. "Come on Mama, let's go."
She took my hand and with her free arm, lifted Starla up. There was ice on the ground, so she could barely walk and hold the baby without almost falling.
"Let me take Starla, Mama. I don't want you to fall down!"
She gave me a strange look. "You mean, you actually want to HOLD your own daughter?"
I looked at Starla's chubby little face. She smiled at me, then reached a mitten-covered hand out and lightly patted my face and grabbed my nose. I started to get chest pains...I was actually feeling something.
It was love.
Love,
Trasha
Hit the Bricks
Hey Friends,
Well, the drama never stops at my place, that's for sure. Remember how Mama pissed me off so bad that I told her I was going to throw her out? She didn't even give me the chance; she left on her own, and took Starla with her. I had planned her dramatic eviction (throwing her clothes out the door, physically "giving her the boot" as she was leaving, perhaps even knocking her down the stairs), but no, she ruined all of that by hitting the bricks before my hangover wore off.
For a tiny lady, Mama sure did add a lot of energy to my trailer. I was actually getting used to us all being together--like a big family. I should have known it would never last; Mama and I just can't live together. I will admit--RELUCTANTLY--that it was pretty cool to have Starla around, even though I feel more like an Aunt to her than her biological mother. She is a cool kid, as far as baby's go. I am glad I didn't abort her.
In need of a distraction, I decided to put together my burlesque number. The song I will perform to is our single "Fist My Pussy". It's got a strong beat and I know that I can do some very bold movements to it. I moved the furniture in the living room and practiced and practiced for hours.
After a few bumps of my good friend "Tina", I was a DANCING MACHINE! Then I cleaned the entire trailer, reorganized the cabinets and used a toothbrush to scour the grout in the bathroom. Shazam!
OK, everyone, I need to go run some errands.
Love,
Trasha
Well, the drama never stops at my place, that's for sure. Remember how Mama pissed me off so bad that I told her I was going to throw her out? She didn't even give me the chance; she left on her own, and took Starla with her. I had planned her dramatic eviction (throwing her clothes out the door, physically "giving her the boot" as she was leaving, perhaps even knocking her down the stairs), but no, she ruined all of that by hitting the bricks before my hangover wore off.
For a tiny lady, Mama sure did add a lot of energy to my trailer. I was actually getting used to us all being together--like a big family. I should have known it would never last; Mama and I just can't live together. I will admit--RELUCTANTLY--that it was pretty cool to have Starla around, even though I feel more like an Aunt to her than her biological mother. She is a cool kid, as far as baby's go. I am glad I didn't abort her.
In need of a distraction, I decided to put together my burlesque number. The song I will perform to is our single "Fist My Pussy". It's got a strong beat and I know that I can do some very bold movements to it. I moved the furniture in the living room and practiced and practiced for hours.
After a few bumps of my good friend "Tina", I was a DANCING MACHINE! Then I cleaned the entire trailer, reorganized the cabinets and used a toothbrush to scour the grout in the bathroom. Shazam!
OK, everyone, I need to go run some errands.
Love,
Trasha
Dinner Disaster!
Hey Friends,
It didn't take Dionne Warwick's psychic friends to predict that my dinner date with Cain would be one big fucking disaster. Let me break it down for you.
First of all, dinner was much earlier than I expected it to be. Cain said he needed to go out of town for a few days to take care of some business (probably something to do with CRACK), so he needed to move up our date. Cunt Face and I, in a frenzy, worked at heating up all the food we bought the other day and cleaning the trailer and basically make everything perfect.
"I swear, Cunt Face, it's like Cain has two girlfriends--you're doing so much to make this a special night for him."
"I owe him, Trasha," Cunt Face replied, wiping the dinner table so it could be set with our best WalMart chinette. "He's done so much for me, I just wouldn't feel right to not properly welcome him into our home."
Mama came into the kitchen, Starla on her hip. "So, when's the black get here?"
We looked at Mama, stunned. "Mama! Stop calling him the black! He's my boyfriend and I want everything to be perfect. If you're going to fuck this up for me, you can stay in your room all night. Seriously--if you embarass me, I swear to Jesus, Mary and Joseph that I will cut out your uterus and sell it on ebay!" I was holding a butcher knife, that I had cut the corn bread with.
"Fine! I'll watch my tongue. Don't threaten your own mother! That's just classless."
And with that she and Starla went back into their bedroom. Mama slammed the door to punctuate her exit.
"That little bitch, I swear to God. One day I'm going to kill her." I finished arranging the cornbread into an old Easter basket I found.
"I'll help you bury the body." Cunt Face added, placing knives, forks and spoons next to each plate.
* * * * * *
When Cain finally arrived, I almost shit myself. I scanned the trailer:
Was everything clean?
Was everything put away?
Was the food ready?
Were there drinks prepared?
Did I hide all my porn?
Do I look pretty?
- Anything in my teeth?
- Does my breath smell good?
- Did I put on deodorant?
- What about perfume?
- Did I spray too much?
- How's my hair?
- Should I Aquanet it?
He was banging at the door now, I had to let him in. OK. Everything is fine. Everything is fine.
"Cain!" I said, swinging the door open, a huge smile on my face. "My love, enter! Enter my trailer."
He had a bunch of flowers in his hand and a bottle of Alize (the orange colored one, for all you curious folks).
"My darling, roses for the most beautiful woman I know. And Alize, so we can get crunked up in this bitch!"
I took his gifts and put them in the kitchen. Cunt Face came out of her room, looking fierce in a short, silver dress, making the red number I was wearing look dull in comparison. This was NOT cool!
Cunt Face walked up to Cain and gave him a hug and kiss--and that kiss lasted a little too long, if you ask me. "Cain, thank you for everything, I truly appreciate it. If there is ever anything I can do to repay you, let me know."
"How about letting me break that pussy in when you get it?" He then looked at me and started laughing. "Just kidding--I had ya there for a min."
I scowled at Cunt Face. She came up to me and whispered: "What?"
"I gotta piss baby, where the bathroom at?"
I pointed down the hall. "Right through there, honey. Oh, and you can leave your coat in my bedroom, last door before the shitter. I mean, rest room."
When he was safely out of earshot, I said, in a low voice: "You fucking bitch! Keep your grubby mitts off my man and go put something else on."
"Fuck you! I like this outfit. And I wasn't putting my mitts on your man--why are you acting like this?"
"You practically swallowed his face! And just remember whose tits are real in this place--MINE! And he'd much rather squeeze them than the bags of rice you have in that bra of yours!"
"You are acting insane, Trasha. Don't ruin the night: you want to make Mama happy?"
"Fine, I'll shut it. Where is that old bitch anyway?"
Mama and Starla came out of their bedroom and I nearly puked in my mouth. She was wearing a latex catsuit (black) with the sides cut out, so her fat was pouring out. Her hair was as high as it's ever been, the makeup darker than all get out and heels so high she could barely walk with that baby in her arms.
"What? No thong and tube top for the baby?" I said, my arms folded, my foot tapping nervously. "Cain's here, you know and he'll be out of the bathroom any second. So I suggest you change so you don't embarrass yourself--OR ME. I'm warning you, lady!"
But it was too late--Cain was standing behind Mama. "You must be Mrs. White. I'm Cain, Trasha's old man."
She put Starla down and turned around. "So is it true what they say? Once you go black you never go back?" She grabbed his leg. "I wanna go, Cain--take me there and don't ever let me come back!"
I grabbed Mama and pulled her off Cain's leg. "My mother is not only a talented singer, but also quite the funny lady. She's trying to be the new Joan Rivers, except she's failing dismally. Let's pour a drink Cain and celebrate this occassion."
"Now ya talkin'. Break open that Alize, baby, I want to make a toast."
I poured three glasses of Alize and handed one to Cain and one to Cunt Face.
"Hey, what about me? I like Alize!" Mama yelled, hands on hips, staring up at us.
I opened the cupboard and grabbed one of Starla's Sippy Cups and put some Alize in there.
"Here you are, little girl. Just don't tell yer Mama where you got this, OK?"
Mama glared up at me. "Bitch." She said, ripping off the top of the Sippy cup and downing the contents in one gulp. Then she let out a loud: "Ahhhhhhhh" and smacked her lips.
"A toast," Cain said, breaking the awkward silence. "To family, to new friends and to love--the most powerful motherfuckin' thang in this world."
We clinked glasses and drank. Cain put his glass down and started sniffing.
"Girl, did you make collard greens? And chitlins? And fried chicken? My mouth is waterin', gal. Fix me up a plate of that!"
I clapped my hands together, as if making a plate of food for a man was the best gift you could have given me. I piled his plate high--he had a trip to go on soon and he needed to have all his strength, I'm sure.
We ate in peace. Mama only took fried chicken, but Cunt Face and I were more daring and tried a bit of everything.
"Mmm mmm mmm. My Mama didn't even make chitlins this good. I swear, Trasha, you all got some black in you."
"I don't THINK so!" Snapped Mama. "Not in this family. We're 75% German and 25% Hillbilly, thank you very much! Not a lick of black in us."
"Speak for yourself," I said, winking at Cain. "I have quite a lot of black in me, from time to time."
I brushed my foot up against his leg, under the kitchen table.
"You all make me sick. I can't stand anymore of this, I'm going to bed. Come on, Starla." Mama slid off her chair, grabbed Starla and stomped her away into her bedroom.
"I'm sorry about her, Cain. I don't know what her problem is."
He waved me away. "No, no, don't even worry about it. Nothing can ruin my night with my baby." He glanced at his watch. "Shit. I need to jet--I can't miss my plane. Aww, darling, this dinner was great, really it was. Next time, dinner is at my place. You and Cunt Face will have to come over very soon."
I got up from the table and hugged him. "We will. And we'll leave Mama at home."
"Yeah, leave her at home!" He said, laughing.
I kissed him goodbye and watched him drive off. I wondered about where he was going, how long he'd be gone and what the hell he was doing. But I knew better than to ask. And I probably didn't really want to know.
I tried to open the door to Mama's room, but she had it locked. "Have a nice sleep, woman, because tomorrow you are out on the streets! How dare you act that way around my boyfriend?!"
"Fuck you!" She screamed from inside the room.
So now I sit here, alone. Mama and Starla, locked in their room. Cunt Face has left for the evening--again. I finished that bottle of Alize and have American Idol to look forward to. Hopefully I pass out before it's over.
Love,
Trasha
It didn't take Dionne Warwick's psychic friends to predict that my dinner date with Cain would be one big fucking disaster. Let me break it down for you.
First of all, dinner was much earlier than I expected it to be. Cain said he needed to go out of town for a few days to take care of some business (probably something to do with CRACK), so he needed to move up our date. Cunt Face and I, in a frenzy, worked at heating up all the food we bought the other day and cleaning the trailer and basically make everything perfect.
"I swear, Cunt Face, it's like Cain has two girlfriends--you're doing so much to make this a special night for him."
"I owe him, Trasha," Cunt Face replied, wiping the dinner table so it could be set with our best WalMart chinette. "He's done so much for me, I just wouldn't feel right to not properly welcome him into our home."
Mama came into the kitchen, Starla on her hip. "So, when's the black get here?"
We looked at Mama, stunned. "Mama! Stop calling him the black! He's my boyfriend and I want everything to be perfect. If you're going to fuck this up for me, you can stay in your room all night. Seriously--if you embarass me, I swear to Jesus, Mary and Joseph that I will cut out your uterus and sell it on ebay!" I was holding a butcher knife, that I had cut the corn bread with.
"Fine! I'll watch my tongue. Don't threaten your own mother! That's just classless."
And with that she and Starla went back into their bedroom. Mama slammed the door to punctuate her exit.
"That little bitch, I swear to God. One day I'm going to kill her." I finished arranging the cornbread into an old Easter basket I found.
"I'll help you bury the body." Cunt Face added, placing knives, forks and spoons next to each plate.
* * * * * *
When Cain finally arrived, I almost shit myself. I scanned the trailer:
Was everything clean?
Was everything put away?
Was the food ready?
Were there drinks prepared?
Did I hide all my porn?
Do I look pretty?
- Anything in my teeth?
- Does my breath smell good?
- Did I put on deodorant?
- What about perfume?
- Did I spray too much?
- How's my hair?
- Should I Aquanet it?
He was banging at the door now, I had to let him in. OK. Everything is fine. Everything is fine.
"Cain!" I said, swinging the door open, a huge smile on my face. "My love, enter! Enter my trailer."
He had a bunch of flowers in his hand and a bottle of Alize (the orange colored one, for all you curious folks).
"My darling, roses for the most beautiful woman I know. And Alize, so we can get crunked up in this bitch!"
I took his gifts and put them in the kitchen. Cunt Face came out of her room, looking fierce in a short, silver dress, making the red number I was wearing look dull in comparison. This was NOT cool!
Cunt Face walked up to Cain and gave him a hug and kiss--and that kiss lasted a little too long, if you ask me. "Cain, thank you for everything, I truly appreciate it. If there is ever anything I can do to repay you, let me know."
"How about letting me break that pussy in when you get it?" He then looked at me and started laughing. "Just kidding--I had ya there for a min."
I scowled at Cunt Face. She came up to me and whispered: "What?"
"I gotta piss baby, where the bathroom at?"
I pointed down the hall. "Right through there, honey. Oh, and you can leave your coat in my bedroom, last door before the shitter. I mean, rest room."
When he was safely out of earshot, I said, in a low voice: "You fucking bitch! Keep your grubby mitts off my man and go put something else on."
"Fuck you! I like this outfit. And I wasn't putting my mitts on your man--why are you acting like this?"
"You practically swallowed his face! And just remember whose tits are real in this place--MINE! And he'd much rather squeeze them than the bags of rice you have in that bra of yours!"
"You are acting insane, Trasha. Don't ruin the night: you want to make Mama happy?"
"Fine, I'll shut it. Where is that old bitch anyway?"
Mama and Starla came out of their bedroom and I nearly puked in my mouth. She was wearing a latex catsuit (black) with the sides cut out, so her fat was pouring out. Her hair was as high as it's ever been, the makeup darker than all get out and heels so high she could barely walk with that baby in her arms.
"What? No thong and tube top for the baby?" I said, my arms folded, my foot tapping nervously. "Cain's here, you know and he'll be out of the bathroom any second. So I suggest you change so you don't embarrass yourself--OR ME. I'm warning you, lady!"
But it was too late--Cain was standing behind Mama. "You must be Mrs. White. I'm Cain, Trasha's old man."
She put Starla down and turned around. "So is it true what they say? Once you go black you never go back?" She grabbed his leg. "I wanna go, Cain--take me there and don't ever let me come back!"
I grabbed Mama and pulled her off Cain's leg. "My mother is not only a talented singer, but also quite the funny lady. She's trying to be the new Joan Rivers, except she's failing dismally. Let's pour a drink Cain and celebrate this occassion."
"Now ya talkin'. Break open that Alize, baby, I want to make a toast."
I poured three glasses of Alize and handed one to Cain and one to Cunt Face.
"Hey, what about me? I like Alize!" Mama yelled, hands on hips, staring up at us.
I opened the cupboard and grabbed one of Starla's Sippy Cups and put some Alize in there.
"Here you are, little girl. Just don't tell yer Mama where you got this, OK?"
Mama glared up at me. "Bitch." She said, ripping off the top of the Sippy cup and downing the contents in one gulp. Then she let out a loud: "Ahhhhhhhh" and smacked her lips.
"A toast," Cain said, breaking the awkward silence. "To family, to new friends and to love--the most powerful motherfuckin' thang in this world."
We clinked glasses and drank. Cain put his glass down and started sniffing.
"Girl, did you make collard greens? And chitlins? And fried chicken? My mouth is waterin', gal. Fix me up a plate of that!"
I clapped my hands together, as if making a plate of food for a man was the best gift you could have given me. I piled his plate high--he had a trip to go on soon and he needed to have all his strength, I'm sure.
We ate in peace. Mama only took fried chicken, but Cunt Face and I were more daring and tried a bit of everything.
"Mmm mmm mmm. My Mama didn't even make chitlins this good. I swear, Trasha, you all got some black in you."
"I don't THINK so!" Snapped Mama. "Not in this family. We're 75% German and 25% Hillbilly, thank you very much! Not a lick of black in us."
"Speak for yourself," I said, winking at Cain. "I have quite a lot of black in me, from time to time."
I brushed my foot up against his leg, under the kitchen table.
"You all make me sick. I can't stand anymore of this, I'm going to bed. Come on, Starla." Mama slid off her chair, grabbed Starla and stomped her away into her bedroom.
"I'm sorry about her, Cain. I don't know what her problem is."
He waved me away. "No, no, don't even worry about it. Nothing can ruin my night with my baby." He glanced at his watch. "Shit. I need to jet--I can't miss my plane. Aww, darling, this dinner was great, really it was. Next time, dinner is at my place. You and Cunt Face will have to come over very soon."
I got up from the table and hugged him. "We will. And we'll leave Mama at home."
"Yeah, leave her at home!" He said, laughing.
I kissed him goodbye and watched him drive off. I wondered about where he was going, how long he'd be gone and what the hell he was doing. But I knew better than to ask. And I probably didn't really want to know.
I tried to open the door to Mama's room, but she had it locked. "Have a nice sleep, woman, because tomorrow you are out on the streets! How dare you act that way around my boyfriend?!"
"Fuck you!" She screamed from inside the room.
So now I sit here, alone. Mama and Starla, locked in their room. Cunt Face has left for the evening--again. I finished that bottle of Alize and have American Idol to look forward to. Hopefully I pass out before it's over.
Love,
Trasha
I Feel Like Chitlins Tonight, Like Chitlins Tonight!
Hey Friends,
Last night was reality TV OVERLOAD! Believe it or not, I missed the first hour of American Idol because Cunt Face and I had to go grocery shopping for the dinner party we're having in Cain's honor. But I did make it home at 9:00 p.m. on the dot to watch the second hour. This is just the auditions and in my mind, Idol doesn't REALLY begin until they start singing with the band! I also caught the hilarious Bad Girls Club and JDMA. Needless to say, I was in heaven!
Back to the dinner party. After asking my neighbors what black people ate (and they were more than generous with their opinions, but kept veering off the topic of food to the subject of Affirmative Action), Cunt Face and I went shopping and picked up all the necessities: fried chicken, watermelon, black eyed peas, collard greens and chitlins. I couldn't believe they actually had everything we needed at Meijer's! This was going to be a great meal.
Oh shit--I almost forgot to tell you! The DVD for my newest porn film "My Little Pony Fucker (Part Two)" comes out at the end of the month. Too bad Shonda had to totally fuck me over, making this film release bittersweet to say the least. Daddy called me to tell me the news and said they are having the premiere at a club in downtown Detroit. Now, times have changed since I made the first "My Little Pony Fucker" film, 25 years ago at the age of 6 and I will finally be old enough to appreciate this event for all that it is. Back then, all I cared about was coke and cock, but I'm more worldly now.
"We should celebrate, Trasha--you and me. I got a couple twenty's for you if you want to have a romp." Daddy sounded like he was jerking off on the phone again. I hated when he did that!
"You know, Daddy, I'm going to have to pass on that."
There was silence. "Excuse me? What the hell do you mean 'pass on that'? Do you know who you're talkin' to, young lady?"
"Yes, Daddy, I know who I'm talking to! But I have a boyfriend now so I'm going to have to hang up my whoring heels for the time being."
More silence and then. "Oh. I see."
"Don't be sore, Daddy--be happy for me! I'm in love!"
"Well, I gotta go, Trasha. Talk to you later."
Click.
Mama came into the living room, holding Starla.
"Uh oh," She said. "You pissed your Daddy off, didn't you. You'll pay for that, you better believe it."
I glared at her. "You think I'm afraid? He had better be afraid."
"Oh yeah? And why is that?"
"Cain won't tolerate him intimidating me. God help him if he tries to cross me."
Mama sighed. "Oh Lord, Trasha. I sense a war starting."
Maybe she was right--maybe a war between Daddy and myself was starting and so be it. I had other things to worry about anyway--like making sure my God Damned family behaves themselves when Cain comes over tonight. I have to look my best and make sure the dinner is absolutely perfect.
Wish me luck everyone!!!!
Love,
Trasha
Last night was reality TV OVERLOAD! Believe it or not, I missed the first hour of American Idol because Cunt Face and I had to go grocery shopping for the dinner party we're having in Cain's honor. But I did make it home at 9:00 p.m. on the dot to watch the second hour. This is just the auditions and in my mind, Idol doesn't REALLY begin until they start singing with the band! I also caught the hilarious Bad Girls Club and JDMA. Needless to say, I was in heaven!
Back to the dinner party. After asking my neighbors what black people ate (and they were more than generous with their opinions, but kept veering off the topic of food to the subject of Affirmative Action), Cunt Face and I went shopping and picked up all the necessities: fried chicken, watermelon, black eyed peas, collard greens and chitlins. I couldn't believe they actually had everything we needed at Meijer's! This was going to be a great meal.
Oh shit--I almost forgot to tell you! The DVD for my newest porn film "My Little Pony Fucker (Part Two)" comes out at the end of the month. Too bad Shonda had to totally fuck me over, making this film release bittersweet to say the least. Daddy called me to tell me the news and said they are having the premiere at a club in downtown Detroit. Now, times have changed since I made the first "My Little Pony Fucker" film, 25 years ago at the age of 6 and I will finally be old enough to appreciate this event for all that it is. Back then, all I cared about was coke and cock, but I'm more worldly now.
"We should celebrate, Trasha--you and me. I got a couple twenty's for you if you want to have a romp." Daddy sounded like he was jerking off on the phone again. I hated when he did that!
"You know, Daddy, I'm going to have to pass on that."
There was silence. "Excuse me? What the hell do you mean 'pass on that'? Do you know who you're talkin' to, young lady?"
"Yes, Daddy, I know who I'm talking to! But I have a boyfriend now so I'm going to have to hang up my whoring heels for the time being."
More silence and then. "Oh. I see."
"Don't be sore, Daddy--be happy for me! I'm in love!"
"Well, I gotta go, Trasha. Talk to you later."
Click.
Mama came into the living room, holding Starla.
"Uh oh," She said. "You pissed your Daddy off, didn't you. You'll pay for that, you better believe it."
I glared at her. "You think I'm afraid? He had better be afraid."
"Oh yeah? And why is that?"
"Cain won't tolerate him intimidating me. God help him if he tries to cross me."
Mama sighed. "Oh Lord, Trasha. I sense a war starting."
Maybe she was right--maybe a war between Daddy and myself was starting and so be it. I had other things to worry about anyway--like making sure my God Damned family behaves themselves when Cain comes over tonight. I have to look my best and make sure the dinner is absolutely perfect.
Wish me luck everyone!!!!
Love,
Trasha
How Could I FORGET?!
Hey Friends,
I'm shaking--I almost forgot what tonight was: the season premiere of AMERICAN IDOL!!!!
Oh.my.god.I.can't.fucking.WAIT!!!!!!!
Love,
Trasha
I'm shaking--I almost forgot what tonight was: the season premiere of AMERICAN IDOL!!!!
Oh.my.god.I.can't.fucking.WAIT!!!!!!!
Love,
Trasha
How I Met Aunt Unis
Hey Friends,
People have been asking me about this Aunt Unis lady that lives a few trailers down from me. "How did you two meet?" you've asked and "Why is she your nemesis?". Well, sit back and let me tell you!
Aunt Unis--who is NOT my Aunt, thank you very much--is a legend at the VFW's that pepper Southeastern Lower Michigan. She is known by all as the Cover All Queen for her historic Bingo-winning record. Now, anyone who knows me knows that when it comes to Bingo, I'm second to none. That is, until I met Aunt Unis.
It was at a Bingo tournament held at the VFW in South Rockwood, Michigan (where I now live, coincidently--or is it). The hall was packed with amatuers and professionals alike and we were all there to win the big grand prize: $5,000 dollars and a turkey fryer. I don't cook, but I knew I could easily trade that fryer for some greenbacks. But I digress.
The action was hot and heavy--I was dobbing Bingo cards so fast that ink was flying and then I noticed my neighbor, who was working an entire table by herself! Yes, this old bat had Bingo cards strewn across an entire table top and her tiny eyes darted to and fro, never missing a number.
It was down to the wire--almost every number had been called. I was ONE AWAY from winning the cover all and claiming my cash and prizes when...
"BINGO!!!" Aunt Unis cried, sounding like an old vulture. I slammed my first against the table, stood up and pointed at her and screamed:
"YOU WHORE!"
And since that day, I've made it my Bingo mission to crush Unis. I get close all the time--lord do I ever, but I've yet to beat her. But I will one day. You hear that Unis? I WILL ONE DAY!
And now we've moved to the very same trailer park Aunt Unis lives in--and just a few doors down, no less. I swear, God is either against me or has a bigger mission planned for me. Maybe he brought me close to her so I could learn her secrets. Is she screwing the guy pulling the Bingo balls at the VFW? Does she have some voodoo secret?
I'll let you know what I find out.
Love,
Trasha
People have been asking me about this Aunt Unis lady that lives a few trailers down from me. "How did you two meet?" you've asked and "Why is she your nemesis?". Well, sit back and let me tell you!
Aunt Unis--who is NOT my Aunt, thank you very much--is a legend at the VFW's that pepper Southeastern Lower Michigan. She is known by all as the Cover All Queen for her historic Bingo-winning record. Now, anyone who knows me knows that when it comes to Bingo, I'm second to none. That is, until I met Aunt Unis.
It was at a Bingo tournament held at the VFW in South Rockwood, Michigan (where I now live, coincidently--or is it). The hall was packed with amatuers and professionals alike and we were all there to win the big grand prize: $5,000 dollars and a turkey fryer. I don't cook, but I knew I could easily trade that fryer for some greenbacks. But I digress.
The action was hot and heavy--I was dobbing Bingo cards so fast that ink was flying and then I noticed my neighbor, who was working an entire table by herself! Yes, this old bat had Bingo cards strewn across an entire table top and her tiny eyes darted to and fro, never missing a number.
It was down to the wire--almost every number had been called. I was ONE AWAY from winning the cover all and claiming my cash and prizes when...
"BINGO!!!" Aunt Unis cried, sounding like an old vulture. I slammed my first against the table, stood up and pointed at her and screamed:
"YOU WHORE!"
And since that day, I've made it my Bingo mission to crush Unis. I get close all the time--lord do I ever, but I've yet to beat her. But I will one day. You hear that Unis? I WILL ONE DAY!
And now we've moved to the very same trailer park Aunt Unis lives in--and just a few doors down, no less. I swear, God is either against me or has a bigger mission planned for me. Maybe he brought me close to her so I could learn her secrets. Is she screwing the guy pulling the Bingo balls at the VFW? Does she have some voodoo secret?
I'll let you know what I find out.
Love,
Trasha
The Genre For Our Next Album Will Be...
Hey Friends,
I've been chilling today, just resting and enjoying my life. Whenever I have these quiet moments in my life, that's when the songs start to come to me. It's like, I'll just be sitting there, gazing off and suddenly, words start coming to my brain. And then melodies and then before you know it, I have a brand new hit on my hands! It's magical, I tell you!
The music fairy came to sprinkle some inspiration on me today and told me what my new musical direction would be. In my brain, I heard the words:
"Country.Western.Star!"
And then it hit me. I don't want to do electronic music or dance music--I want to do COUNTRY music! I could be the next Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, Reba McIntyre, Shania Twain or Kenny Rogers! Better yet, I could be the next DOLLY PARTON!
So, that is what I plan to do. The new Cunty Bitches album or my first solo album (whichever should come first) will be COUNTRY.WESTERN. Or is that Cuntry Western?
Love,
Trasha
I've been chilling today, just resting and enjoying my life. Whenever I have these quiet moments in my life, that's when the songs start to come to me. It's like, I'll just be sitting there, gazing off and suddenly, words start coming to my brain. And then melodies and then before you know it, I have a brand new hit on my hands! It's magical, I tell you!
The music fairy came to sprinkle some inspiration on me today and told me what my new musical direction would be. In my brain, I heard the words:
"Country.Western.Star!"
And then it hit me. I don't want to do electronic music or dance music--I want to do COUNTRY music! I could be the next Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, Reba McIntyre, Shania Twain or Kenny Rogers! Better yet, I could be the next DOLLY PARTON!
So, that is what I plan to do. The new Cunty Bitches album or my first solo album (whichever should come first) will be COUNTRY.WESTERN. Or is that Cuntry Western?
Love,
Trasha
A Career Move
Hey Friends,
Mama always knows how to put a damper on a good day. She came out of her bedroom to tell Cunt Face and I to shut our traps so she and Starla could sleep.
"Do you want that baby keeping you awake all night? She behaves better than the two of you, that's for sure. At least she's quiet right now!"
"Oh, Mother, stop being so old! We're celebrating my newfound love affair!"
She looked at me, hand on her hip and said: "Now who is dumb enough to fall in love with you?"
"Mama, Trasha did good this time--he's a really great guy!" It was weird having Cunt Face come to my defensive as she never approved of the people I dated before.
"Well, I'll be the judge of that! Neither of you could pick a man to save your sorry lives. I've been around this block, honey, and I can smell a loser a mile away and anyone that has decided to shack up with you is a bona fide L-O-S-E-R!"
"I'm inviting him over to dinner this week to meet you so you'd better drop that attitude now, lady!"
"Don't tell me you plan on COOKIN' for him, too! Cunt Face, I think your sister has lost her God Damned mind!"
I never thought about what we were going to eat or how it would all happen. I don't cook! And if I do cook, it's nothing more than putting something in a microwave! Yikes!
"Oh, shit Mama--what am I going to do? What do black people eat?"
"He's BLAAAAAACK?!" Mama screamed and then fainted. Her small body hit the floor with a soft thud.
"Cunt Face, will you please help the drama queen to her feet?"
Cunt Face picked Mama up and sat her on the couch. Then, she slapped her hard across the face. I laughed!
"What happened? Who's there?" Mama said, dazed.
"You fainted Mama, after Trasha told you that her new boyfriend Cain is black. Black as night!"
Her eyes fluttered. "Oh, Jesus--I see you, Jesus. Have mercy on my soul Jesus--TAKE ME! I'm READY, Lord!"
I rolled my eyes at this display. And people wondered where I got my dramatics from.
I decided to let Cunt Face help Mama get over herself while I called Cain.
"Darling," He said. "I'd be happy to meet your family. Why don't you get all gorgeous and come to the club tonight? I want to introduce you to everyone and see if I can't get you a job."
"A job? That sounds great! I do love to work, Cain. What kind of job? Porn, whoring?"
"Better. You're a performer, right?"
"Why, yes I am! I am a natural, as a matter of fact."
"Well, my club is a burlesque club and I want you to see some of the shows we do and if you like it, I'd love to have you be one of our featured attractions."
"That sounds great, Cain. I'll see you tonight--and I'll look my most glamorous!"
"Bring Cunt Face, too. I'd love for her to see the show."
"Oh, I will. And thank you, by the way, for what you did for her."
"Don't mention it. I'd do anything for you and those you love. And for those who cross you--well, let's just say if they cross you, they cross me, too. And you know I'm not the nigger to cross."
* * * * *
Cunt Face and I arrived to the club (dressed to kill) by limo and were escorted to Cain's private booth. He kissed me on the lips and gave me a big hug. He even hugged and kissed Cunt Face!
"The show is going to start soon--I want you to pay special attention to Sabrina. She's the best bitch we got. Well, for the time being anyway. Once my baby starts doing her thang, I know she'll be yesterday's news!"
I snuggled up to him. He made me feel like a princess!
We got drinks (I decided to be CLASSY and have a DIRTY MARTINI) and sat back as the show began. It was quite the spectacle--like the movie Showgirls! There were props and fancy lighting and smoke machines--straight up drama! I was transfixed. The girl doing her performance was exciting and all, but I kept thinking how I'd do it so much better. Stronger movements, more eye-contact...she knew who to take off her clothes, but she didn't know shit about connecting to her audience. That really made her routine suffer and I was free with my critiques once the show ended.
"You think you can show her a thang or two, baby?" Cain purred, rubbing my shoulder.
"I know I can, Cain! You've got the drama, that's for sure--you just need that extra something. I can make you proud--I can do this burlesque thing. I'll be just like...well, a fat Dita Von Teese!"
"You ain't fat baby, you just right. I like a bitch with junk in her trunk and tits for days."
"Aww, Cain--you're such a sweet talker!"
Cunt Face and I left after an hour or so and Cain escorted us out to his limo.
"Now, you let me know when you want to start and I'll get you up on that stage. It sure beats getting that pussy worked out at the truck stop, doesn't it? The only man working that pussy out will be ME!"
He kissed me hard, a powerful, dangerous kiss. A kiss that said: 'Don't fuck with me, you fat bitch or I'll cut you!'
And that night I slept and dreamed of performing. Perhaps I could even work some music into my numbers and really turn that show into something fabulous. Maybe even get Cunt Face and Mama involved somehow...my dreams were abuzz with possibilities and I couldn't wait to make my dreams into a reality.
Love,
Trasha
Mama always knows how to put a damper on a good day. She came out of her bedroom to tell Cunt Face and I to shut our traps so she and Starla could sleep.
"Do you want that baby keeping you awake all night? She behaves better than the two of you, that's for sure. At least she's quiet right now!"
"Oh, Mother, stop being so old! We're celebrating my newfound love affair!"
She looked at me, hand on her hip and said: "Now who is dumb enough to fall in love with you?"
"Mama, Trasha did good this time--he's a really great guy!" It was weird having Cunt Face come to my defensive as she never approved of the people I dated before.
"Well, I'll be the judge of that! Neither of you could pick a man to save your sorry lives. I've been around this block, honey, and I can smell a loser a mile away and anyone that has decided to shack up with you is a bona fide L-O-S-E-R!"
"I'm inviting him over to dinner this week to meet you so you'd better drop that attitude now, lady!"
"Don't tell me you plan on COOKIN' for him, too! Cunt Face, I think your sister has lost her God Damned mind!"
I never thought about what we were going to eat or how it would all happen. I don't cook! And if I do cook, it's nothing more than putting something in a microwave! Yikes!
"Oh, shit Mama--what am I going to do? What do black people eat?"
"He's BLAAAAAACK?!" Mama screamed and then fainted. Her small body hit the floor with a soft thud.
"Cunt Face, will you please help the drama queen to her feet?"
Cunt Face picked Mama up and sat her on the couch. Then, she slapped her hard across the face. I laughed!
"What happened? Who's there?" Mama said, dazed.
"You fainted Mama, after Trasha told you that her new boyfriend Cain is black. Black as night!"
Her eyes fluttered. "Oh, Jesus--I see you, Jesus. Have mercy on my soul Jesus--TAKE ME! I'm READY, Lord!"
I rolled my eyes at this display. And people wondered where I got my dramatics from.
I decided to let Cunt Face help Mama get over herself while I called Cain.
"Darling," He said. "I'd be happy to meet your family. Why don't you get all gorgeous and come to the club tonight? I want to introduce you to everyone and see if I can't get you a job."
"A job? That sounds great! I do love to work, Cain. What kind of job? Porn, whoring?"
"Better. You're a performer, right?"
"Why, yes I am! I am a natural, as a matter of fact."
"Well, my club is a burlesque club and I want you to see some of the shows we do and if you like it, I'd love to have you be one of our featured attractions."
"That sounds great, Cain. I'll see you tonight--and I'll look my most glamorous!"
"Bring Cunt Face, too. I'd love for her to see the show."
"Oh, I will. And thank you, by the way, for what you did for her."
"Don't mention it. I'd do anything for you and those you love. And for those who cross you--well, let's just say if they cross you, they cross me, too. And you know I'm not the nigger to cross."
* * * * *
Cunt Face and I arrived to the club (dressed to kill) by limo and were escorted to Cain's private booth. He kissed me on the lips and gave me a big hug. He even hugged and kissed Cunt Face!
"The show is going to start soon--I want you to pay special attention to Sabrina. She's the best bitch we got. Well, for the time being anyway. Once my baby starts doing her thang, I know she'll be yesterday's news!"
I snuggled up to him. He made me feel like a princess!
We got drinks (I decided to be CLASSY and have a DIRTY MARTINI) and sat back as the show began. It was quite the spectacle--like the movie Showgirls! There were props and fancy lighting and smoke machines--straight up drama! I was transfixed. The girl doing her performance was exciting and all, but I kept thinking how I'd do it so much better. Stronger movements, more eye-contact...she knew who to take off her clothes, but she didn't know shit about connecting to her audience. That really made her routine suffer and I was free with my critiques once the show ended.
"You think you can show her a thang or two, baby?" Cain purred, rubbing my shoulder.
"I know I can, Cain! You've got the drama, that's for sure--you just need that extra something. I can make you proud--I can do this burlesque thing. I'll be just like...well, a fat Dita Von Teese!"
"You ain't fat baby, you just right. I like a bitch with junk in her trunk and tits for days."
"Aww, Cain--you're such a sweet talker!"
Cunt Face and I left after an hour or so and Cain escorted us out to his limo.
"Now, you let me know when you want to start and I'll get you up on that stage. It sure beats getting that pussy worked out at the truck stop, doesn't it? The only man working that pussy out will be ME!"
He kissed me hard, a powerful, dangerous kiss. A kiss that said: 'Don't fuck with me, you fat bitch or I'll cut you!'
And that night I slept and dreamed of performing. Perhaps I could even work some music into my numbers and really turn that show into something fabulous. Maybe even get Cunt Face and Mama involved somehow...my dreams were abuzz with possibilities and I couldn't wait to make my dreams into a reality.
Love,
Trasha
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)