Hey Friends,
Sorry I've been out of touch for a while--you'll understand once I finish spinning this yarn for you all. Let me just say that I'm no longer in rehab (I couldn't last more than a few days), but my life has taken some interesting turns since I left the facility. I've been just too damned busy to sit and write everything down. But I'm ready to now.
I'll rewind a bit: after I last wrote, the laptop Leonard had given to me was "mysteriously" destroyed by another patient. I smelled foul play, but kept my cards close to my chest and didn't let on. No doubt Cain had found out where I was being kept and sent someone to fuck with me. My first instinct was to flip out and cut a bitch--but I stopped myself. And good thing I did.
Realizing I was not going to be safe anywhere, I decided to leave rehab and go back to my trailer. Mama and Starla were happy to see me, but Cunt Face was still nowhere to be found. No one had seen hide nor hair of my tranny twin sister. I sat in my recliner, closed my eyes and tried to tune into the special frequency--the one that only Cunt Face and I could tune into. I'm sure you've heard that twins have a special psychic connection and it was quite true in our case.
I focused on my sister and the answer came: she was in pain. But it wasn't a pain caused by violence--it was self-inflicted.
"I think Cunt Face has had her sex-change." I told my Mama, while she paced the living room, holding Starla.
"Oh, horse shit! You expect me to believe that whole twins mumbo-jumbo? She's probably in jail or something."
I knew better--Cunt Face had gotten her sex change surgery, but it made me sad that she went off on her own and didn't discuss it with me first. I would have helped her recuperate! God knows she got a morphine drip out of the deal! How selfish!
But I had to worry about Cunt Face and her new pussy later. I had bigger issues to tackle, like Cain's trial and my testimony against him.
That's when the phone rang: it was Leonard.
"Trasha, why did you leave rehab? It was the only place I could keep you safe! You are in danger, you know. Cain could have you killed at any moment! For all we know, your trailer is wired with bombs."
Leonard's concern was cute, but I had faced bigger challenges than a jilted lover in my day. I could handle Cain--especially after reading through all the documents Leonard had gotten for me. Knowledge WAS power and I was dripping in it. Cain was puddy in my hands now.
"Look, Leonard, I've done some thinking and I think it's best if I keep my big, fat, trap shut. I don't want to testify against Cain anymore."
There was silence on the other end.
"Hello? Leonard? Did you hear me? I'm not saying shit--so you can remove the protection you've put on me. I appreciate everything you've done, but I know what's best for me and that is to say nothing."
"I heard you, Trasha. And you're making a huge mistake."
Click.
I set the phone down--how dare he hang up on me?!
Mama was looking at me, horrified. "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Trasha?"
I stood, towering over her. "Don't ever doubt me, woman. I know exactly what I'm doing. And I know what I need to do now--I need to go see Cain in prison."
Love,
Trasha
I’m The New Amy Winehouse!
Hey Friends,
When I regained consciousness, I was lying in a hospital bed. There were nurses in my room--one was fixing a bag on an IV and another was writing notes on a chart. My vision was a bit blurry and I could taste vomit in my mouth--as well as the slight hint of charcoal.
I tried to sit up, but once I did, I felt a horrible pain in my crotch. I cried out and a nurse came over and said:
"I just gave you some pain medicine--give it a second and you should feel much better."
I was confused and asked: "Where am I? What am I doing here?"
The nurse, who was writing on the chart said, without looking up: "You overdosed on painkillers and had you been brought to the hospital any later, we wouldn't have been able to revive you. You should really thank your lucky stars--and the gentleman who brought you to us."
The meds I was given were starting to kick in a little. "Why the hell does my cho-cha feel so busted up?"
The nurse was suppressing a giggle, but kept her control. "The doctor will be in soon to explain all that to you. It seems like you had quite the wild night."
I laughed. "Oh yeah, that's me--Miss Barrel of Fun. I want to get out of here--I don't do hospitals. Get my outfit--I'm leaving!"
"Sorry, Miss, but you have to stay while we run more tests on you. Like I said, the doctor will explain everything."
"Tell him to get his ass in here then! This ain't Iraq--you can't keep me prisoner! This is America, lady, and I have rights!"
She finished writing and left the room, leaving the chart on the back of the door. The other nurse promptly followed her: I was finally alone.
I found the remote that controlled the bed and made it so I was in an upright position. I then found the remote for the TV and turned it on, trying to find something to watch. Thankfully, People's Court was on, making me feel more comfortable immediately.
The doctor came in some time later, grabbed my chart, scanned it and then said: "Hello...Miss White. I'm Dr. O'Connor. How are you feeling this afternoon?"
I grunted. "Are you being sarcastic? I feel like shit! My stomach hurts, I feel like I just licked a BBQ grill clean and my pussy feels like it got the living shit kicked out of it. How do you think I feel?"
"Well, after the night you had, I'm not surprised you feel this way. You do realize that you took an incredibly large dosage of painkillers--that amount would have killed a horse. Couple that with all the alcohol in your system and it's a miracle you're still here."
"Oh, yes, tis a miracle. Thank you, God!" Now it was my turn for sarcasm.
"We also had to dislodge a bottle of beer from your cervix. We believe there to be substantial damage to your reproductive organs."
"If I can still fuck, we're cool."
"I don't think you understand what I'm telling you, Miss White: you may never be able to bare children again."
"No, I don't think YOU understand me, Dr. O'Connor. I could give a rat's ass if I ever push another kid through my cunt. I already have one kid and trust me, she's plenty."
"I see," He said, then scribbled something on my chart. "While we were operating, we noticed that you were recently pregnant. Were you trying to lose your baby? Did you intentionally hurt yourself?"
"Look, Doctor, I don't know if you are aware, but my name is Trasha White--living legend and lead singer of the Cunty Bitches. I rose to fame years ago when I created and marketed my own Home Abortion Kit. I know how to rid myself of an unwanted fetus and my bottle trick was just that--a trick. I would never use a 40 oz. of booze to abort myself. That would be just stupid."
He continued writing. "Yes, now that you mention it, I do recall you being in the papers for that. I'd say notoriety is a more appropriate word than fame."
I smiled. "Any press is good press, as we say in the entertainment business. Now when do I get the hell out of this flop house?"
"Perhaps you should ask your guardian that question. It is up to them."
"My guardian? I'm not a child--I am my own guardian! What the fuck are you talking about, you quack?"
"I'll show him in, if you'll excuse me."
"Yeah, yeah, get the hell out of here--you're of no use to me."
Minutes later, the doctor returned with none other than LEONARD!
"You've got to be kidding me. He is not my guardian!"
"I'll leave you two alone to talk," Said Dr. O'Connor, closing the door behind him. Leonard sat down in a chair next to my bed.
"So...you have a bottle trick, then? Should I feel offended that you haven't shown it to me, yet?"
"Oh, cut the crap, Leonard. Why are you telling these people you are my guardian?"
"Well, the court has appointed me your guardian. I spoke with a judge and this is the only way I can promise that you'll be safe."
"What is the only way?" I pressed, angrily.
"Later today, you are being transferred to a rehabilitation center."
"You mean REHAB? Are you crazy?! They expect you to be SOBER in rehab!"
"It's the only way, Trasha--trust me." He reached for my hand--I let him take it. "Now, listen, I won't let anyone do anything to you, but yes, you'll need to be sober while you're there. This may be a blessing in disguise for you. It seems that you are spiraling out of control. You should be more afraid of yourself than you are of Cain."
"Speaking of, did you get me the information I asked for?"
"I did--and after you're all settled in at your temporary home, I'll leave everything with you. You'll have plenty of time to read."
"This is utterly ridiculous, Leonard. No pills, no booze, no weed--nothing! I'll go crazy in there, Leonard! At least in a nut house, they keep you medicated. Send me to the nut house instead, PLEASE!"
"It's for your own good, Trasha--I'll even make sure you have a laptop so you can write. I know you love to write. And you wouldn't get that in the mental ward."
He was right and a few hours later, I was carted off to a facility a couple hours away from Detroit. I won't say exactly WHERE I am (I'm no dummy), but Leonard kept his promise of getting me a laptop (a real one, not a WebTV like I have at home). I am writing you now from my room, which is pretty boring, but it is better than a hospital or nut house.
Lucky for me, I snuck some pain pills in. Don't ask me how--you don't want to know!
Love,
Trasha
When I regained consciousness, I was lying in a hospital bed. There were nurses in my room--one was fixing a bag on an IV and another was writing notes on a chart. My vision was a bit blurry and I could taste vomit in my mouth--as well as the slight hint of charcoal.
I tried to sit up, but once I did, I felt a horrible pain in my crotch. I cried out and a nurse came over and said:
"I just gave you some pain medicine--give it a second and you should feel much better."
I was confused and asked: "Where am I? What am I doing here?"
The nurse, who was writing on the chart said, without looking up: "You overdosed on painkillers and had you been brought to the hospital any later, we wouldn't have been able to revive you. You should really thank your lucky stars--and the gentleman who brought you to us."
The meds I was given were starting to kick in a little. "Why the hell does my cho-cha feel so busted up?"
The nurse was suppressing a giggle, but kept her control. "The doctor will be in soon to explain all that to you. It seems like you had quite the wild night."
I laughed. "Oh yeah, that's me--Miss Barrel of Fun. I want to get out of here--I don't do hospitals. Get my outfit--I'm leaving!"
"Sorry, Miss, but you have to stay while we run more tests on you. Like I said, the doctor will explain everything."
"Tell him to get his ass in here then! This ain't Iraq--you can't keep me prisoner! This is America, lady, and I have rights!"
She finished writing and left the room, leaving the chart on the back of the door. The other nurse promptly followed her: I was finally alone.
I found the remote that controlled the bed and made it so I was in an upright position. I then found the remote for the TV and turned it on, trying to find something to watch. Thankfully, People's Court was on, making me feel more comfortable immediately.
The doctor came in some time later, grabbed my chart, scanned it and then said: "Hello...Miss White. I'm Dr. O'Connor. How are you feeling this afternoon?"
I grunted. "Are you being sarcastic? I feel like shit! My stomach hurts, I feel like I just licked a BBQ grill clean and my pussy feels like it got the living shit kicked out of it. How do you think I feel?"
"Well, after the night you had, I'm not surprised you feel this way. You do realize that you took an incredibly large dosage of painkillers--that amount would have killed a horse. Couple that with all the alcohol in your system and it's a miracle you're still here."
"Oh, yes, tis a miracle. Thank you, God!" Now it was my turn for sarcasm.
"We also had to dislodge a bottle of beer from your cervix. We believe there to be substantial damage to your reproductive organs."
"If I can still fuck, we're cool."
"I don't think you understand what I'm telling you, Miss White: you may never be able to bare children again."
"No, I don't think YOU understand me, Dr. O'Connor. I could give a rat's ass if I ever push another kid through my cunt. I already have one kid and trust me, she's plenty."
"I see," He said, then scribbled something on my chart. "While we were operating, we noticed that you were recently pregnant. Were you trying to lose your baby? Did you intentionally hurt yourself?"
"Look, Doctor, I don't know if you are aware, but my name is Trasha White--living legend and lead singer of the Cunty Bitches. I rose to fame years ago when I created and marketed my own Home Abortion Kit. I know how to rid myself of an unwanted fetus and my bottle trick was just that--a trick. I would never use a 40 oz. of booze to abort myself. That would be just stupid."
He continued writing. "Yes, now that you mention it, I do recall you being in the papers for that. I'd say notoriety is a more appropriate word than fame."
I smiled. "Any press is good press, as we say in the entertainment business. Now when do I get the hell out of this flop house?"
"Perhaps you should ask your guardian that question. It is up to them."
"My guardian? I'm not a child--I am my own guardian! What the fuck are you talking about, you quack?"
"I'll show him in, if you'll excuse me."
"Yeah, yeah, get the hell out of here--you're of no use to me."
Minutes later, the doctor returned with none other than LEONARD!
"You've got to be kidding me. He is not my guardian!"
"I'll leave you two alone to talk," Said Dr. O'Connor, closing the door behind him. Leonard sat down in a chair next to my bed.
"So...you have a bottle trick, then? Should I feel offended that you haven't shown it to me, yet?"
"Oh, cut the crap, Leonard. Why are you telling these people you are my guardian?"
"Well, the court has appointed me your guardian. I spoke with a judge and this is the only way I can promise that you'll be safe."
"What is the only way?" I pressed, angrily.
"Later today, you are being transferred to a rehabilitation center."
"You mean REHAB? Are you crazy?! They expect you to be SOBER in rehab!"
"It's the only way, Trasha--trust me." He reached for my hand--I let him take it. "Now, listen, I won't let anyone do anything to you, but yes, you'll need to be sober while you're there. This may be a blessing in disguise for you. It seems that you are spiraling out of control. You should be more afraid of yourself than you are of Cain."
"Speaking of, did you get me the information I asked for?"
"I did--and after you're all settled in at your temporary home, I'll leave everything with you. You'll have plenty of time to read."
"This is utterly ridiculous, Leonard. No pills, no booze, no weed--nothing! I'll go crazy in there, Leonard! At least in a nut house, they keep you medicated. Send me to the nut house instead, PLEASE!"
"It's for your own good, Trasha--I'll even make sure you have a laptop so you can write. I know you love to write. And you wouldn't get that in the mental ward."
He was right and a few hours later, I was carted off to a facility a couple hours away from Detroit. I won't say exactly WHERE I am (I'm no dummy), but Leonard kept his promise of getting me a laptop (a real one, not a WebTV like I have at home). I am writing you now from my room, which is pretty boring, but it is better than a hospital or nut house.
Lucky for me, I snuck some pain pills in. Don't ask me how--you don't want to know!
Love,
Trasha
Trasha White's Famous Bottle Trick
Hey Friends,
When I woke up, I decided to face my pain the only way I knew how: shit-faced drunk and stoned on pain killers and weed. As soon as the pills hit me I decided that I needed to go out for a little fun. I pulled on a tube dress and heels, my rabbit fur coat, smeared some lipstick on haphazardly and ran a brush through my hair before heading out into the wintry night.
My vision was a bit blurry from the booze/pills combo, but I had a joint rolled in my purse and I was certain that once I smoked it, I'd be straight. I looked for my car, and then I remembered I had crashed it into Unis' trailer when I realized my brake lines had been cut. The lights in Unis' trailer were out, but her Honda was there. I figured she was asleep and since I don't much like her attitude, figured I'd borrow her car so I could get to the Memphis Lounge and back. She wouldn't miss it!
I reached into my purse and pulled out my Slim Jim (the piece of metal for opening car doors, not the snack food--tt was a gift from my twin sister Cunt Face) and got to work. I was inside the car in seconds and made fast work of hot-wiring it. That was a skill I picked up from Mama. Lord, did my family teach me a lot! I never realized it--I always felt like I did the teaching and others did the learning...
I sparked up the joint as I peeled out of the Mobile Home Estate Park and got to the Memphis Lounge in about thirty minutes. I was returning to the scene of the crime, since I'd been arrested there just a few nights ago. I'd show them who would let a little jail time and miscarriage stop them from having a good time! Not me!
The pills were really hitting me as I made my way through the bar door. I felt like I was floating and felt so warm that I didn't even wear my fur coat inside. I burst into the bar, grabbed the wall for support and bellowed:
"I'M FUCKED UP AND READY TO GET FUCKED! WHO WANTS TO POUND THIS PUSSY??? WHO???!!!"
I peered through the smoky air. The strands of Christmas lights (which they kept up all year round for "ambiance") glowed like big, fat stars. I couldn't make anyone's face out, but I could see large, manly shapes and smell their sweaty bodies.
I made my way to the bar and ordered a Coors Light. Marv handed it to me and said:
"Are you OK, Trasha?"
I nodded. "Uh huh. Marv, did you know I can squat down and take an entire 40 oz. bottle up my cunt?"
He laughed. "Yes, Trasha--everyone does. You did it for me two years ago, on my birthday."
I giggled. "Yeah, those were fun times, weren't they Marv? Oh, I can't wait to have more fun and make more memories. Say, you gotta bottle I could borrow? I want to impress my new friends here."
I turned to a man sitting next to me, with a greasy mustache and faded Detroit Tiger's baseball cap. "Are you my new friend? You wanna see my bottle trick?"
The guy said: "Hell yeah, lady--let's see it. Go on, Marv--give the lady a bottle."
Marv bent down, opened a cabinet under the bar and brought out a 40 oz. bottle of Old English.
"I carry this in case the blacks come in." He said, then handed it to me.
"Tell you what I'm gonna do, Marv," I said, rubbing my hands over the icy cold bottle. "I'm going squat down and do my bottle trick and THEN I'm going drink all this beer."
The other people seated at the bar started pounding on it, shouting:
"BOTTLE TRICK! BOTTLE TRICK! BOTTLE TRICK! BOTTLE TRICK!"
I pushed my way through the crowd and took over the dance floor. I cleared it out and when I was alone in the center, set the bottle down on the ground. I then hiked up my tube dress (I wasn't wearing any undies) and slowly, methodically, lowered myself down on top of the bottle. When it had disappeared completely up my cunt, I rolled on my back, threw my legs in the air and showed the crowd that it had vanished. They clapped, whistled, hooted and hollered so loud, I thought I'd go deaf!
And then I blacked out...
[To Be Continued]
Love,
Trasha
When I woke up, I decided to face my pain the only way I knew how: shit-faced drunk and stoned on pain killers and weed. As soon as the pills hit me I decided that I needed to go out for a little fun. I pulled on a tube dress and heels, my rabbit fur coat, smeared some lipstick on haphazardly and ran a brush through my hair before heading out into the wintry night.
My vision was a bit blurry from the booze/pills combo, but I had a joint rolled in my purse and I was certain that once I smoked it, I'd be straight. I looked for my car, and then I remembered I had crashed it into Unis' trailer when I realized my brake lines had been cut. The lights in Unis' trailer were out, but her Honda was there. I figured she was asleep and since I don't much like her attitude, figured I'd borrow her car so I could get to the Memphis Lounge and back. She wouldn't miss it!
I reached into my purse and pulled out my Slim Jim (the piece of metal for opening car doors, not the snack food--tt was a gift from my twin sister Cunt Face) and got to work. I was inside the car in seconds and made fast work of hot-wiring it. That was a skill I picked up from Mama. Lord, did my family teach me a lot! I never realized it--I always felt like I did the teaching and others did the learning...
I sparked up the joint as I peeled out of the Mobile Home Estate Park and got to the Memphis Lounge in about thirty minutes. I was returning to the scene of the crime, since I'd been arrested there just a few nights ago. I'd show them who would let a little jail time and miscarriage stop them from having a good time! Not me!
The pills were really hitting me as I made my way through the bar door. I felt like I was floating and felt so warm that I didn't even wear my fur coat inside. I burst into the bar, grabbed the wall for support and bellowed:
"I'M FUCKED UP AND READY TO GET FUCKED! WHO WANTS TO POUND THIS PUSSY??? WHO???!!!"
I peered through the smoky air. The strands of Christmas lights (which they kept up all year round for "ambiance") glowed like big, fat stars. I couldn't make anyone's face out, but I could see large, manly shapes and smell their sweaty bodies.
I made my way to the bar and ordered a Coors Light. Marv handed it to me and said:
"Are you OK, Trasha?"
I nodded. "Uh huh. Marv, did you know I can squat down and take an entire 40 oz. bottle up my cunt?"
He laughed. "Yes, Trasha--everyone does. You did it for me two years ago, on my birthday."
I giggled. "Yeah, those were fun times, weren't they Marv? Oh, I can't wait to have more fun and make more memories. Say, you gotta bottle I could borrow? I want to impress my new friends here."
I turned to a man sitting next to me, with a greasy mustache and faded Detroit Tiger's baseball cap. "Are you my new friend? You wanna see my bottle trick?"
The guy said: "Hell yeah, lady--let's see it. Go on, Marv--give the lady a bottle."
Marv bent down, opened a cabinet under the bar and brought out a 40 oz. bottle of Old English.
"I carry this in case the blacks come in." He said, then handed it to me.
"Tell you what I'm gonna do, Marv," I said, rubbing my hands over the icy cold bottle. "I'm going squat down and do my bottle trick and THEN I'm going drink all this beer."
The other people seated at the bar started pounding on it, shouting:
"BOTTLE TRICK! BOTTLE TRICK! BOTTLE TRICK! BOTTLE TRICK!"
I pushed my way through the crowd and took over the dance floor. I cleared it out and when I was alone in the center, set the bottle down on the ground. I then hiked up my tube dress (I wasn't wearing any undies) and slowly, methodically, lowered myself down on top of the bottle. When it had disappeared completely up my cunt, I rolled on my back, threw my legs in the air and showed the crowd that it had vanished. They clapped, whistled, hooted and hollered so loud, I thought I'd go deaf!
And then I blacked out...
[To Be Continued]
Love,
Trasha
Broken Baby
Hey Friends,
What a fucking day. I did something I rarely ever do: I cried. It started with the dream I had last night. I was giving birth to my new baby (for some reason, in my recliner, not a hospital). Mama delivered the child, which turned out to be a boy: a little black boy, so it was clearly Cain's baby. Mama slapped him on the ass, but he wouldn't cry so she handed him to me and said:
"Take this brat and get it to cry! I have to go play Bingo!"
I was pissed that she was leaving me alone with the baby because I, too, wanted to play Bingo. The next thing I knew I was rocking the baby and kissing his cheek until I realized he was dead. Before I knew it, the baby changed from a real baby to a fake baby and he somehow slipped from my arms, crashing to the ground and breaking into a million pieces. I sobbed, trying to scoop up the pieces of my baby, but chunks of his body rolled under the couch and recliner. I laid on the floor and wailed and wailed.
I woke up crying and found that I was really on the floor of my trailer, just like my dream. I got to my feet and doubled over. I was having the most severe cramps I've ever, ever had in my life.
I screamed for Mama to come help me. She rushed out of her bedroom and joined me on the floor. She put her arm around my shoulder.
"Trasha, darling, what's wrong?!"
I tried to speak, but the cramps were so bad, all I could do is breathe--in short gasps. I felt like I was going into labor, but clearly, it was much too soon for that.
We sat there, in silence, for a few moments and when the severity of the cramps subsided, I managed to get to my feet and stumble to the bathroom. I braced myself against the sink when I looked down at my feet and noticed a trail of blood had pooled between my toes.
My tears returned, ten-fold, and I was sobbing like never before.
Mama burst into the bathroom and took one look at me and started to cry, too.
"Oh, Trasha..." She cried, quietly. She then went to the tub and drew me a bath. When the tub was full, I had gotten some control over myself.
"Let's get you in the tub, darling," Mama said and I began to undress. Normally, I would never get nude in front of my mother, but this time, I really didn't care at all.
I wasn't in the bath, which was steaming it was so hot, for long before the water turned a very pale pink. I felt weak: I was losing more blood.
Mama sighed and said: "This happened to me before, a couple times, before I had Jacob. Both times, I was so relieved because I was too young and just not ready to have any babies. Look on the bright side: you can drink all you want now and not feel guilty!"
"What are you saying? Are you saying I lost my baby?"
She nodded. "Yep, you had a miscarriage darling. It happens all the time, especially in your first trimester."
I stared at the bathroom ceiling and let the tears fall silently down my face. I had turned back to stone again, I actually FELT myself shutting down. It was a comfortable, familiar feeling.
I laid there in the tub until the water turned ice cold. Mama then helped me get dressed and got me into my recliner, where I fell back asleep and cried softly and quietly for my broken baby.
Love,
Trasha
What a fucking day. I did something I rarely ever do: I cried. It started with the dream I had last night. I was giving birth to my new baby (for some reason, in my recliner, not a hospital). Mama delivered the child, which turned out to be a boy: a little black boy, so it was clearly Cain's baby. Mama slapped him on the ass, but he wouldn't cry so she handed him to me and said:
"Take this brat and get it to cry! I have to go play Bingo!"
I was pissed that she was leaving me alone with the baby because I, too, wanted to play Bingo. The next thing I knew I was rocking the baby and kissing his cheek until I realized he was dead. Before I knew it, the baby changed from a real baby to a fake baby and he somehow slipped from my arms, crashing to the ground and breaking into a million pieces. I sobbed, trying to scoop up the pieces of my baby, but chunks of his body rolled under the couch and recliner. I laid on the floor and wailed and wailed.
I woke up crying and found that I was really on the floor of my trailer, just like my dream. I got to my feet and doubled over. I was having the most severe cramps I've ever, ever had in my life.
I screamed for Mama to come help me. She rushed out of her bedroom and joined me on the floor. She put her arm around my shoulder.
"Trasha, darling, what's wrong?!"
I tried to speak, but the cramps were so bad, all I could do is breathe--in short gasps. I felt like I was going into labor, but clearly, it was much too soon for that.
We sat there, in silence, for a few moments and when the severity of the cramps subsided, I managed to get to my feet and stumble to the bathroom. I braced myself against the sink when I looked down at my feet and noticed a trail of blood had pooled between my toes.
My tears returned, ten-fold, and I was sobbing like never before.
Mama burst into the bathroom and took one look at me and started to cry, too.
"Oh, Trasha..." She cried, quietly. She then went to the tub and drew me a bath. When the tub was full, I had gotten some control over myself.
"Let's get you in the tub, darling," Mama said and I began to undress. Normally, I would never get nude in front of my mother, but this time, I really didn't care at all.
I wasn't in the bath, which was steaming it was so hot, for long before the water turned a very pale pink. I felt weak: I was losing more blood.
Mama sighed and said: "This happened to me before, a couple times, before I had Jacob. Both times, I was so relieved because I was too young and just not ready to have any babies. Look on the bright side: you can drink all you want now and not feel guilty!"
"What are you saying? Are you saying I lost my baby?"
She nodded. "Yep, you had a miscarriage darling. It happens all the time, especially in your first trimester."
I stared at the bathroom ceiling and let the tears fall silently down my face. I had turned back to stone again, I actually FELT myself shutting down. It was a comfortable, familiar feeling.
I laid there in the tub until the water turned ice cold. Mama then helped me get dressed and got me into my recliner, where I fell back asleep and cried softly and quietly for my broken baby.
Love,
Trasha
Who Needs Brakes?
Hey Friends,
After a few shots of whiskey, two packs of Virginia Slims and almost a handful of Vicodin (I ran out of Percocets), I called Leonard up and told him I'd testify against Cain, but first I needed his help. I told him to pull any and all info he could find about Cain and his family--namely, his father. His death really shell-shocked Cain and seemed to one of his--perhaps his only--weak spot. I never told anybody this, but Cain cried in my arms about his daddy. He'd even wake up screaming for him in the middle of the night! I know, I know, you'd never think a man as tough as Cain would be such a pussy.
Leonard said it would take a day or so to get me the information I wanted. I didn't tell him about the phone call I got last night--I didn't want him to put a guard outside my trailer or anything. No, I wanted to continue living as normal a life as possible and I did just that.
I had breakfast at a truck stop down the road and even managed to turn a quick trick for some gas money. I went shopping at Wal*Mart and Big Lots and even bought a couple toys for Starla (they were really doggie chew toys, but she's a baby--she won't know the difference). I was on my way back home when I noticed something awfully strange about my car.
The brake lines had been CUT!
I managed to get home in one piece, but in order to stop the car, I had to make a snap decision: plow into my trailer or someone else's. I chose the latter and let's just say Unis isn't very happy with me right now and I'll probably not be invited to Bingo again. I told her walls can be fixed but I couldn't be brought back from the dead. She said she wishes I had died! What a grumpy old bitch!
So I'll be staying in for a while, which is OK with me because American Idol, Big Brother, Bad Girls Club and the JDMA are all on tonight!!!!!
Love,
Trasha
After a few shots of whiskey, two packs of Virginia Slims and almost a handful of Vicodin (I ran out of Percocets), I called Leonard up and told him I'd testify against Cain, but first I needed his help. I told him to pull any and all info he could find about Cain and his family--namely, his father. His death really shell-shocked Cain and seemed to one of his--perhaps his only--weak spot. I never told anybody this, but Cain cried in my arms about his daddy. He'd even wake up screaming for him in the middle of the night! I know, I know, you'd never think a man as tough as Cain would be such a pussy.
Leonard said it would take a day or so to get me the information I wanted. I didn't tell him about the phone call I got last night--I didn't want him to put a guard outside my trailer or anything. No, I wanted to continue living as normal a life as possible and I did just that.
I had breakfast at a truck stop down the road and even managed to turn a quick trick for some gas money. I went shopping at Wal*Mart and Big Lots and even bought a couple toys for Starla (they were really doggie chew toys, but she's a baby--she won't know the difference). I was on my way back home when I noticed something awfully strange about my car.
The brake lines had been CUT!
I managed to get home in one piece, but in order to stop the car, I had to make a snap decision: plow into my trailer or someone else's. I chose the latter and let's just say Unis isn't very happy with me right now and I'll probably not be invited to Bingo again. I told her walls can be fixed but I couldn't be brought back from the dead. She said she wishes I had died! What a grumpy old bitch!
So I'll be staying in for a while, which is OK with me because American Idol, Big Brother, Bad Girls Club and the JDMA are all on tonight!!!!!
Love,
Trasha
Changing My Perspective
Hey Friends,
I've been puking all afternoon. Some ladies get morning sickness, but not me--I get all fucking day sickness. I had just taken a few Percocets--you know, to calm the baby--and up they came, thirty seconds later. Thankfully, I missed the toilet when I puked, so I was able to salvage the pills. It was a close one, though! You'd think the baby was trying to tell me something. HA!
On my way back from one of my many trips to the shitter, I heard Starla wailing away like crazy, inside Mama's bedroom. I thought to myself: "Maybe Mama's dead and her body is starting to stink so bad that Starla can't take the smell anymore!" A girl can daydream, can't she? I knew Mama was probably passed out from all the NyQuil she was guzzling. I kept telling her they made stuff for the day time but she said she needed the buzz after all she'd been through, you know, because of the amnesia and her long-lost son Jacob tracking her down.
Anyway, Starla needed a bottle and a diaper change. Unfortunately for me, Cunt Face wasn't around as I normally put her on diaper duty (you know, to make her feel like a real woman and all--I do what I can for the trannies, I really do). So I changed her and made her a bottle in the microwave. I was rocking her to sleep after burping her when the phone rang. I answered it:
"Who the hell is this?"
There was silence on the other end. I asked again:
"Who the hell is this?"
Silence. I don't like being fucked with on the phone--someone was in for it.
"Who the god-damn, motherfuck is this? Speak, you fucking low life." (I got that from Unis, my neighbor. I love recycling insults!)
There was a robotic voice on the other end. It wasn't a bad connection: It was intentional. Someone was disguising their voice and while I loved the sound of the effect (I could use it for a song), I was taken aback by what it said:
"Trasha White, if you know what's good for you, you won't say anything to the cops or the FBI. We're watching you and we will do whatever we must to your family and friends. Don't be stupid."
Click.
This was straight out of a horror movie! I was torn between loving the dramatics and nearly shitting my pants. Someone was watching me--how else would they know about the whole FBI thing, and so shortly after my meeting with Leonard. Cain had eyes and ears everywhere it seemed, not that I'm surprised. I knew what Cain was capable of the moment I met him--I mean, it was him murdering my obese husband PJ that lead me to him in the first place. It was that same danger that drew me to him and it was that same danger that would be the key to my undoing. I had to be smarter than him--I had to be one step ahead...but how? It seemed he had the upper hand...
I knew I had some work to do and I would need Leonard to help me get some information I need. I wouldn't let Cain destroy me. I had to use every bit of cunning I've picked up from being in kiddie porn, turning tricks at the truck stop, becoming a tri-state sensation with my Home Abortion Kit and being the lead singer of The Cunty Bitches. My life hadn't been one big heap of shit to ruin me, it had been that way to train me. For this.
My God--it is just like Cunt Face said. You do create your own reality and if you think otherwise, you just need to change your perspective.
Love,
Trasha
I've been puking all afternoon. Some ladies get morning sickness, but not me--I get all fucking day sickness. I had just taken a few Percocets--you know, to calm the baby--and up they came, thirty seconds later. Thankfully, I missed the toilet when I puked, so I was able to salvage the pills. It was a close one, though! You'd think the baby was trying to tell me something. HA!
On my way back from one of my many trips to the shitter, I heard Starla wailing away like crazy, inside Mama's bedroom. I thought to myself: "Maybe Mama's dead and her body is starting to stink so bad that Starla can't take the smell anymore!" A girl can daydream, can't she? I knew Mama was probably passed out from all the NyQuil she was guzzling. I kept telling her they made stuff for the day time but she said she needed the buzz after all she'd been through, you know, because of the amnesia and her long-lost son Jacob tracking her down.
Anyway, Starla needed a bottle and a diaper change. Unfortunately for me, Cunt Face wasn't around as I normally put her on diaper duty (you know, to make her feel like a real woman and all--I do what I can for the trannies, I really do). So I changed her and made her a bottle in the microwave. I was rocking her to sleep after burping her when the phone rang. I answered it:
"Who the hell is this?"
There was silence on the other end. I asked again:
"Who the hell is this?"
Silence. I don't like being fucked with on the phone--someone was in for it.
"Who the god-damn, motherfuck is this? Speak, you fucking low life." (I got that from Unis, my neighbor. I love recycling insults!)
There was a robotic voice on the other end. It wasn't a bad connection: It was intentional. Someone was disguising their voice and while I loved the sound of the effect (I could use it for a song), I was taken aback by what it said:
"Trasha White, if you know what's good for you, you won't say anything to the cops or the FBI. We're watching you and we will do whatever we must to your family and friends. Don't be stupid."
Click.
This was straight out of a horror movie! I was torn between loving the dramatics and nearly shitting my pants. Someone was watching me--how else would they know about the whole FBI thing, and so shortly after my meeting with Leonard. Cain had eyes and ears everywhere it seemed, not that I'm surprised. I knew what Cain was capable of the moment I met him--I mean, it was him murdering my obese husband PJ that lead me to him in the first place. It was that same danger that drew me to him and it was that same danger that would be the key to my undoing. I had to be smarter than him--I had to be one step ahead...but how? It seemed he had the upper hand...
I knew I had some work to do and I would need Leonard to help me get some information I need. I wouldn't let Cain destroy me. I had to use every bit of cunning I've picked up from being in kiddie porn, turning tricks at the truck stop, becoming a tri-state sensation with my Home Abortion Kit and being the lead singer of The Cunty Bitches. My life hadn't been one big heap of shit to ruin me, it had been that way to train me. For this.
My God--it is just like Cunt Face said. You do create your own reality and if you think otherwise, you just need to change your perspective.
Love,
Trasha
Down in the Dumps!
Hey Friends,
Just when I think things are beginning to work out, my entire world goes to shit. It always happens and don't any of you tell me to think positively because that hasn't gotten me anywhere! All you people who think you need to look on the bright side of things (like my twin sister, Cunt Face) are CRAZY! I don't believe in all that New Age voodoo. Life sucks--I know it and you know it, too, so let's cut the garbage and just accept it!
I'm just not myself today and that was evident when I didn't have the interest in fighting with my neighbor, Unis. She started with me when I was getting the mail today--talking loads of junk about the trailer park's value decreasing ever since my "caravan of low lives" (as she called it) moved into the place. Normally, those would be fighting words and I would have knocked her old ass to the ground, but not today. I just flipped her off and took my junk mail inside.
Even my recliner didn't feel as comfy as it typically does. Maybe it's these pregnancy hormones or maybe I'm just depressed--I can't tell. But one thing that hasn't left my brain is my dinner with Leonard last night, where he asked me to testify against my former lover, Cain.
Now, I've never been one to care about doing "the right thing". Me and morals don't jive well--never have and never will. I live life by my rules and do whatever feels good at the moment, as should everyone else on this planet. But I have always been interested in vengeance and I guess there is a part of me that wants to stick it to Cain and show him who is boss. But my lust for revenge could cost me my life. I'm so confused because most of the time, I don't even care if I live or die! Like the world would be any different without me in it.
Oh, don't fret--I'm not going to try to kill myself again. I'm just down in the dumps today, that's all. Mama's still sick and Cunt Face hasn't come home. Perhaps if I had some company, I wouldn't be so sad. My sister sure has been MIA on and off for a while--I wonder what the hell she is up to.
Until next time...
Love,
Trasha
Just when I think things are beginning to work out, my entire world goes to shit. It always happens and don't any of you tell me to think positively because that hasn't gotten me anywhere! All you people who think you need to look on the bright side of things (like my twin sister, Cunt Face) are CRAZY! I don't believe in all that New Age voodoo. Life sucks--I know it and you know it, too, so let's cut the garbage and just accept it!
I'm just not myself today and that was evident when I didn't have the interest in fighting with my neighbor, Unis. She started with me when I was getting the mail today--talking loads of junk about the trailer park's value decreasing ever since my "caravan of low lives" (as she called it) moved into the place. Normally, those would be fighting words and I would have knocked her old ass to the ground, but not today. I just flipped her off and took my junk mail inside.
Even my recliner didn't feel as comfy as it typically does. Maybe it's these pregnancy hormones or maybe I'm just depressed--I can't tell. But one thing that hasn't left my brain is my dinner with Leonard last night, where he asked me to testify against my former lover, Cain.
Now, I've never been one to care about doing "the right thing". Me and morals don't jive well--never have and never will. I live life by my rules and do whatever feels good at the moment, as should everyone else on this planet. But I have always been interested in vengeance and I guess there is a part of me that wants to stick it to Cain and show him who is boss. But my lust for revenge could cost me my life. I'm so confused because most of the time, I don't even care if I live or die! Like the world would be any different without me in it.
Oh, don't fret--I'm not going to try to kill myself again. I'm just down in the dumps today, that's all. Mama's still sick and Cunt Face hasn't come home. Perhaps if I had some company, I wouldn't be so sad. My sister sure has been MIA on and off for a while--I wonder what the hell she is up to.
Until next time...
Love,
Trasha
Life or Death
Hey Friends,
I could barely sleep last night. I tossed and turned in my recliner, stewing over my impending confrontation with Leonard. I pictured myself being strong and to the point, I imagined myself enraged and pointing my pistol at him, I fantasized about manipulating him with reverse psychology...various scenarios went through my mind and I burned inside, both excited and worried about what would be dumped on me.
I got up, took a shower, put on a conservative outfit and did my hair and make up before calling Leonard. He answered the phone within the first three rings--as if he was expecting my call.
"Hi Trasha," He said in a low voice. "I'm sorry your birthday wasn't more festive."
I grunted. "Yeah, whatever--it's just another day. But let's cut to the chase, Leonard. I know you and my sister have something you two are keeping from me and she said I need to come to you about it. So, what the hell is going on?"
He paused then said. "Why don't you meet me for dinner? We can make up for your birthday and I can tell you everything. How does that sound?"
I returned the pause and replied: "Fine. But you're buying and it won't be cheap."
Leonard laughed. "Of course, of course. You sure are something, Trasha."
We agreed to meet at 8:00 p.m. at the Outback Steakhouse near my trailer park. The day went by so slowly. Cunt Face left the house while I was in the shower and Mama spent the entire day sick in bed, Starla by her side. I was left alone, which just made my anxiety worse.
By the time 8 rolled around, I was ready to puke. My stomach was in knots and I wasn't sure if I could even eat a Blooming Onion (but I would, you know, to not be rude). Leonard had already gotten us a booth, so I joined him and ordered a Diet Coke.
"Thank you for meeting me, Trasha. Great place you picked out."
I could sense a bit of sarcasm in Leonard's tone, but I dismissed it--I had bigger fish to fry.
"So, what gives? What do you and my sister have going on and how the fuck does it involve me?"
Leonard smiled and looked down at the menu. "Don't you want to at least order your dinner first before we get into the heavy talk?"
"Are you calling me fat?" I asked, matter-of-factly.
He laughed. "No, no--I mean, there is a lot I need to tell you and it's not something that you can just spit out.
I relented, told the waitress what I wanted and waited until the appetizers came out before I grilled him again.
"So, spit it out, Leonard. I haven't got all day."
He composed himself and then he said:
"I'm not exactly who you think I am, Trasha. You know me as Cain's business partner at the club, but that isn't all together true. I work for the FBI and we've been investigating Cain for some time. Well, after a few years, we've finally had a break in our case and that is thanks to you. I know what Shonda told the police, but I have a little more intelligence on this situation than the local PD. We know you were the one who is responsible for Cain being behind bars and we need you, Trasha. We need you to testify against him so we can put him away for life. Without you, he walks."
I was stunned and couldn't even form words for a few minutes. I nibbled on a piece of Blooming Onion, absently. Then, I said: "But...we had sex! Surely that wasn't part of your assignment, too!"
He blushed and shook his head. "No, no that was definitely not part of my assignment. That was me being incredibly unprofessional, but helpless in the presence of an unbelievably gorgeous woman."
I sipped my Coke, demurely. This wasn't the first time those words had been uttered to me.
"What about Shonda? Why can't she just testify and you all forget I had anything to do with this!"
He lowered his eyes for a moment, then said: "Shonda...she's...dead."
I spit out my drink, spraying Leonard's sweater with beads of cola. "What?!"
He nodded. "Yes, we recently got word of her death. That is why your help is so important."
"But Cain will kill me--you know it, I know it and so does the FBI!"
He reached for my hand. "Cain would kill you if he got out. We can guarantee your safety--I will guarantee it."
My stomach twisted. I put my hand, instinctively, over my womb. All this stress was pissing off the baby.
"I need to think about this Leonard--this is an awful lot to take in."
And he didn't pressure me the rest of the night. As I drove home later that evening, I looked at everything--the nuclear power plant I passed, the diners, the farms, the trailer parks--as if it was the first and last time I'd ever see it again. And there was a good chance, if I didn't play my cards right, that my fears would come true.
Love,
Trasha
I could barely sleep last night. I tossed and turned in my recliner, stewing over my impending confrontation with Leonard. I pictured myself being strong and to the point, I imagined myself enraged and pointing my pistol at him, I fantasized about manipulating him with reverse psychology...various scenarios went through my mind and I burned inside, both excited and worried about what would be dumped on me.
I got up, took a shower, put on a conservative outfit and did my hair and make up before calling Leonard. He answered the phone within the first three rings--as if he was expecting my call.
"Hi Trasha," He said in a low voice. "I'm sorry your birthday wasn't more festive."
I grunted. "Yeah, whatever--it's just another day. But let's cut to the chase, Leonard. I know you and my sister have something you two are keeping from me and she said I need to come to you about it. So, what the hell is going on?"
He paused then said. "Why don't you meet me for dinner? We can make up for your birthday and I can tell you everything. How does that sound?"
I returned the pause and replied: "Fine. But you're buying and it won't be cheap."
Leonard laughed. "Of course, of course. You sure are something, Trasha."
We agreed to meet at 8:00 p.m. at the Outback Steakhouse near my trailer park. The day went by so slowly. Cunt Face left the house while I was in the shower and Mama spent the entire day sick in bed, Starla by her side. I was left alone, which just made my anxiety worse.
By the time 8 rolled around, I was ready to puke. My stomach was in knots and I wasn't sure if I could even eat a Blooming Onion (but I would, you know, to not be rude). Leonard had already gotten us a booth, so I joined him and ordered a Diet Coke.
"Thank you for meeting me, Trasha. Great place you picked out."
I could sense a bit of sarcasm in Leonard's tone, but I dismissed it--I had bigger fish to fry.
"So, what gives? What do you and my sister have going on and how the fuck does it involve me?"
Leonard smiled and looked down at the menu. "Don't you want to at least order your dinner first before we get into the heavy talk?"
"Are you calling me fat?" I asked, matter-of-factly.
He laughed. "No, no--I mean, there is a lot I need to tell you and it's not something that you can just spit out.
I relented, told the waitress what I wanted and waited until the appetizers came out before I grilled him again.
"So, spit it out, Leonard. I haven't got all day."
He composed himself and then he said:
"I'm not exactly who you think I am, Trasha. You know me as Cain's business partner at the club, but that isn't all together true. I work for the FBI and we've been investigating Cain for some time. Well, after a few years, we've finally had a break in our case and that is thanks to you. I know what Shonda told the police, but I have a little more intelligence on this situation than the local PD. We know you were the one who is responsible for Cain being behind bars and we need you, Trasha. We need you to testify against him so we can put him away for life. Without you, he walks."
I was stunned and couldn't even form words for a few minutes. I nibbled on a piece of Blooming Onion, absently. Then, I said: "But...we had sex! Surely that wasn't part of your assignment, too!"
He blushed and shook his head. "No, no that was definitely not part of my assignment. That was me being incredibly unprofessional, but helpless in the presence of an unbelievably gorgeous woman."
I sipped my Coke, demurely. This wasn't the first time those words had been uttered to me.
"What about Shonda? Why can't she just testify and you all forget I had anything to do with this!"
He lowered his eyes for a moment, then said: "Shonda...she's...dead."
I spit out my drink, spraying Leonard's sweater with beads of cola. "What?!"
He nodded. "Yes, we recently got word of her death. That is why your help is so important."
"But Cain will kill me--you know it, I know it and so does the FBI!"
He reached for my hand. "Cain would kill you if he got out. We can guarantee your safety--I will guarantee it."
My stomach twisted. I put my hand, instinctively, over my womb. All this stress was pissing off the baby.
"I need to think about this Leonard--this is an awful lot to take in."
And he didn't pressure me the rest of the night. As I drove home later that evening, I looked at everything--the nuclear power plant I passed, the diners, the farms, the trailer parks--as if it was the first and last time I'd ever see it again. And there was a good chance, if I didn't play my cards right, that my fears would come true.
Love,
Trasha
Secrets
Hey Friends,
I nearly had to scrape my jaw off the floor as I stared in the face of the man who Cunt Face got to bail me out of jail. Dressed in a suit, he was tall and dapper. It was Leonard, Cain's business partner from the burlesque club.
"Hello, Trasha. Happy Birthday." His voice was low and deep and delicate. I guess this is what a gentleman is.
"Hello, Leonard," I said, grinning. I directed my next question to my twin sister. "Cunt Face--why did you call Leonard." I looked back at Leonard. "No offense."
His dismissed my comment with a wave of his hand.
"Well," She said, looking at Leonard, like she was trying to get her story straight. This made me uneasy. "When you brought me to Cain's club that time, Leonard and I got some time to bond with each other."
"You and Cain were...busy." Leonard added. By busy, he meant I was getting my pussy plowed by Cain's 9 inch black cock, in one of the back rooms.
"So, you two bonded?" I verified, wondering to myself just how close they got. Surely Leonard wasn't a tranny-chaser--I myself had fucked him twice and he could very well be the father of the baby I'm carrying...the baby he knows nothing about, might I add.
They traded glances and nodded their heads, in unison. Something was fishy and I didn't like it one bit. I hate being on the outside of a secret and my big fat gut told me that these two were sharing a secret. I'll find out what it is--in time.
"Well, that is just wonderful." I lied. "Leonard, thank you so much for bailing me out. I'll pay you back ten-fold: I'll give you three blow jobs, you can fist me twice and I'll let you do anal on me. Fair enough?"
Leonard looked around at the officers, working behind their desks. Nervously, he responded: "Should you really talk about that kind of stuff in the police station?"
I shrugged. "Whatever--the cards are on the table. Just give me a holler when you want to collect. Come on Cunt Face, let's split."
I put my fur coat on and walked confidently out of the police station. The cold air hit me like a brick and I turned so the wind was at my back. Cunt Face and Leonard were saying goodbye to each other, but it seemed a little more than that. What were they talking about? They had better not be talking about ME! Actually, they HAD better be talking about me because then I won't feel so left out.
As Cunt Face and I walked to the car a little later, I said: "So, you and Leonard look awful cozy. You're not fucking him, are you? Because I've already had him and I'm sure you don't want my sloppy seconds."
Cunt Face was quiet for a moment, then said: "I really can't talk about it, Trasha. You'll need to speak with Leonard directly."
Now, my blood was boiling. I was nearly sweating beneath my rabbit coat.
"Since when don't you tell me shit?" I yelled, stopped in my tracks.
My twin sister turned and faced me. "Since right now--just about this. You really need to talk to Leonard--I have been told I can't say anything."
"Say what? Bitch are you crazy? You can tell me anything--you told me you're cutting off your dick and becoming a woman! What's more serious than that?"
Cunt Face pressed her lips together, holding whatever she had to say back with all her might. I knew she didn't want to betray me, but this sure felt like betrayal! How the hell would YOU feel?
For once, I actually dropped something. Cunt Face had that effect on me. Anyone else-even Mama--would have gotten my box cutter upside their face! I would have sliced and diced a bitch for less...but not Cunt Face. She was my Kryptonite.
When we got home, I plopped into my recliner and kicked off my heels. I didn't have the strength or interest to talk to Mama or check in on Starla or even say goodnight to Cunt Face. My mind was a whirl with possibilities--conclusions if you will. I would get to the bottom of this and I would start tomorrow, with Leonard.
Love,
TrashaSe
I nearly had to scrape my jaw off the floor as I stared in the face of the man who Cunt Face got to bail me out of jail. Dressed in a suit, he was tall and dapper. It was Leonard, Cain's business partner from the burlesque club.
"Hello, Trasha. Happy Birthday." His voice was low and deep and delicate. I guess this is what a gentleman is.
"Hello, Leonard," I said, grinning. I directed my next question to my twin sister. "Cunt Face--why did you call Leonard." I looked back at Leonard. "No offense."
His dismissed my comment with a wave of his hand.
"Well," She said, looking at Leonard, like she was trying to get her story straight. This made me uneasy. "When you brought me to Cain's club that time, Leonard and I got some time to bond with each other."
"You and Cain were...busy." Leonard added. By busy, he meant I was getting my pussy plowed by Cain's 9 inch black cock, in one of the back rooms.
"So, you two bonded?" I verified, wondering to myself just how close they got. Surely Leonard wasn't a tranny-chaser--I myself had fucked him twice and he could very well be the father of the baby I'm carrying...the baby he knows nothing about, might I add.
They traded glances and nodded their heads, in unison. Something was fishy and I didn't like it one bit. I hate being on the outside of a secret and my big fat gut told me that these two were sharing a secret. I'll find out what it is--in time.
"Well, that is just wonderful." I lied. "Leonard, thank you so much for bailing me out. I'll pay you back ten-fold: I'll give you three blow jobs, you can fist me twice and I'll let you do anal on me. Fair enough?"
Leonard looked around at the officers, working behind their desks. Nervously, he responded: "Should you really talk about that kind of stuff in the police station?"
I shrugged. "Whatever--the cards are on the table. Just give me a holler when you want to collect. Come on Cunt Face, let's split."
I put my fur coat on and walked confidently out of the police station. The cold air hit me like a brick and I turned so the wind was at my back. Cunt Face and Leonard were saying goodbye to each other, but it seemed a little more than that. What were they talking about? They had better not be talking about ME! Actually, they HAD better be talking about me because then I won't feel so left out.
As Cunt Face and I walked to the car a little later, I said: "So, you and Leonard look awful cozy. You're not fucking him, are you? Because I've already had him and I'm sure you don't want my sloppy seconds."
Cunt Face was quiet for a moment, then said: "I really can't talk about it, Trasha. You'll need to speak with Leonard directly."
Now, my blood was boiling. I was nearly sweating beneath my rabbit coat.
"Since when don't you tell me shit?" I yelled, stopped in my tracks.
My twin sister turned and faced me. "Since right now--just about this. You really need to talk to Leonard--I have been told I can't say anything."
"Say what? Bitch are you crazy? You can tell me anything--you told me you're cutting off your dick and becoming a woman! What's more serious than that?"
Cunt Face pressed her lips together, holding whatever she had to say back with all her might. I knew she didn't want to betray me, but this sure felt like betrayal! How the hell would YOU feel?
For once, I actually dropped something. Cunt Face had that effect on me. Anyone else-even Mama--would have gotten my box cutter upside their face! I would have sliced and diced a bitch for less...but not Cunt Face. She was my Kryptonite.
When we got home, I plopped into my recliner and kicked off my heels. I didn't have the strength or interest to talk to Mama or check in on Starla or even say goodnight to Cunt Face. My mind was a whirl with possibilities--conclusions if you will. I would get to the bottom of this and I would start tomorrow, with Leonard.
Love,
TrashaSe
So Much for Turning My Life Around!
Hey Friends,
So much for turning my life around: I got arrested! It happened on my birthday no less. I had gone back to Warren to hang at my favorite honky tonk, The Memphis Lounge because every year on my birthday, all my old regulars show up to shower me with love (and their cum, if they're lucky).
When I walk into the Memphis Lounge, it's like Norm walking into Cheers. They all know my name and they turn on their barstools and scream and holler for me. It's one of the few places I truly feel like a star. So I waltzed in, all dolled up and alone (I didn't want Cunt Face stealing any of my thunder) and saddled up at the bar.
"It's my birthday, Marv," I told my favorite bartender. "Give me the usual!"
Marv, a 60 year old Vietnam vet gave me a big smile, exposing his missing choppers. "You got it, Trasha!" He then commenced to mixing up my birthday cocktail: a Coors Light in a tall glass and a shot of whiskey. I then pulled a Percocet out of my purse and dropped it into the shot glass.
"Can't forget the piece de resistance!" I howled and downed the shot and chased it with my beer. Fuck this baby I'm carrying: it's my birthday and it's time to get WILD like no one else but Miss Trasha White can!
The shot hit me quick and I felt as loose as a long-necked goose. I shook my hips and pranced onto the dance floor, pushing people out of my way. I caught the eye of a handsome gent who was dancing with someone far less pretty than me. I winked and he left her behind and pulled me close and we started to dance.
"Hey!" The lady shouted, pissed off.
I ignored her. This was my night--my birthday and I would have any man I wanted, even if he was taken.
"So, what's your name?" He said. I rolled my eyes: did he really not know me?
"I'm Trasha White, living legend and lead singer of The Cunty Bitches."
I let him dip me. The world looked so interesting upside down!
I could feel his hard-on through his Wrangler jeans. "It seems like you are mighty happy to see me. What do you say you and me go do something about that?" I punctuated my statement by grabbing his long, hard dick.
"Oh yeah?" He said, smiling. "What do you want to do about this?" He rubbed his cock against my leg.
"Honey, I can do many, many things to that. But this pussy ain't free--I will have to charge you. And since it's my birthday, I will have to charge you double."
He laughed and spinned me around. The next thing I knew, handcuffs were on me.
"You have the right to remain silent..." He said, then began rattling off my Miranda Rights.
"Yeah, yeah--save your breath!" I yelled. "I have those God-damned things memorized. How could you do this to me? It's my BIRTHDAY!"
"Well, you'll be spending it in the slammer. Let's go."
And the next thing I knew, my cell in the police station was being slammed shut.
I sat on a cement slab and lit a cigarette. I had smuggled it in my bra, along with some matches. No one would keep me from my cigs--NO ONE!
Another woman was in the cell with me and I would have ignored her, but she kept staring at me. I told myself: 'Trasha, calm down, though you are already in jail, you don't need any other charges brought against you.'
She kept staring and I puffed my cig hard. I clenched my jaw and bit my tongue, but I just couldn't keep my trap shut.
"What the fuck is your problem, bitch?" I asked, as politely as I could.
"I know you, whore. You turn tricks down at White Way and The Memphis Lounge. Thank God you haven't been around in a while so the rest of us lizards can get the business. You're a man-hog!"
"Well, it looks like you won't be getting much business tonight, lady. Neither of us will--we're locked up. And don't get bitter because the men want me. I've been turning tricks since I got my period--I'm a fucking legend!"
The woman snorted. "Legend! Right. You may have lost a few hundred pounds, but you're still as ugly as the day is long!"
I glared at her. I am beautiful and with enough guidance, I could probably win beauty pageants. People say I look just like Delta Burke--she was as pageant queen! This bitch was just jealous and I knew it.
"Don't be sore because I have a mouth full of teeth and yours have rotted out from all that meth. Don't try to deny it--I can tell a Meth Mouth when I see one. And look at all those scabs. You're a mess and the only reason those men are on you is because I've flown the coop. But don't get too comfy because I'm coming back and with a vengeance. Spread the word to the other nasty sluts you work with."
One of the guards at the station opened the cell door. "Hey, you--put out that damn cigarette and make your one phone call."
He was talking to me. I stood up, straightened my dress, tossed my cig on the ground and stamped it out with my high heel. Head held high, I excited the cell and made my phone call to the only person I could call: my twin sister, Cunt Face.
She said she'd be there as soon as she could--she needed to dig up the bail money. I cursed my family for being so fucking poor and hoped Cunt Face could either borrow or steal the cash ASAP. I am not meant for prison or jail life. I'm a fucking star!
Hours has passed and I nodded off to sleep. I dreamed of being cozy warm, curled up in my recliner with Starla in my arms. I was woken back to harsh reality when one of the guards banged on the cell with his billy club.
"Get up, fat ass. You've made bail."
I acted like he wasn't talking to me, but he banged the door again.
"My name is Miss Trasha White, living legend and lead--"
"Save it!" He yelled and pulled my by the arm out of the cell.
"I've never been treated with such disrespect before--I'm with child for God's sake!"
I was lead out of the jail and into another room for processing. That's when I saw Cunt Face. She ran up to me and put her arms around me.
"Oh, Cunt Face, I'm so happy to see you. How the hell did you get the cash to bail me out of here???"
Before she could answer, I saw exactly who had given her the money. And I couldn't believe my eyes!
(To Be Continued)
Love,
Trasha
So much for turning my life around: I got arrested! It happened on my birthday no less. I had gone back to Warren to hang at my favorite honky tonk, The Memphis Lounge because every year on my birthday, all my old regulars show up to shower me with love (and their cum, if they're lucky).
When I walk into the Memphis Lounge, it's like Norm walking into Cheers. They all know my name and they turn on their barstools and scream and holler for me. It's one of the few places I truly feel like a star. So I waltzed in, all dolled up and alone (I didn't want Cunt Face stealing any of my thunder) and saddled up at the bar.
"It's my birthday, Marv," I told my favorite bartender. "Give me the usual!"
Marv, a 60 year old Vietnam vet gave me a big smile, exposing his missing choppers. "You got it, Trasha!" He then commenced to mixing up my birthday cocktail: a Coors Light in a tall glass and a shot of whiskey. I then pulled a Percocet out of my purse and dropped it into the shot glass.
"Can't forget the piece de resistance!" I howled and downed the shot and chased it with my beer. Fuck this baby I'm carrying: it's my birthday and it's time to get WILD like no one else but Miss Trasha White can!
The shot hit me quick and I felt as loose as a long-necked goose. I shook my hips and pranced onto the dance floor, pushing people out of my way. I caught the eye of a handsome gent who was dancing with someone far less pretty than me. I winked and he left her behind and pulled me close and we started to dance.
"Hey!" The lady shouted, pissed off.
I ignored her. This was my night--my birthday and I would have any man I wanted, even if he was taken.
"So, what's your name?" He said. I rolled my eyes: did he really not know me?
"I'm Trasha White, living legend and lead singer of The Cunty Bitches."
I let him dip me. The world looked so interesting upside down!
I could feel his hard-on through his Wrangler jeans. "It seems like you are mighty happy to see me. What do you say you and me go do something about that?" I punctuated my statement by grabbing his long, hard dick.
"Oh yeah?" He said, smiling. "What do you want to do about this?" He rubbed his cock against my leg.
"Honey, I can do many, many things to that. But this pussy ain't free--I will have to charge you. And since it's my birthday, I will have to charge you double."
He laughed and spinned me around. The next thing I knew, handcuffs were on me.
"You have the right to remain silent..." He said, then began rattling off my Miranda Rights.
"Yeah, yeah--save your breath!" I yelled. "I have those God-damned things memorized. How could you do this to me? It's my BIRTHDAY!"
"Well, you'll be spending it in the slammer. Let's go."
And the next thing I knew, my cell in the police station was being slammed shut.
I sat on a cement slab and lit a cigarette. I had smuggled it in my bra, along with some matches. No one would keep me from my cigs--NO ONE!
Another woman was in the cell with me and I would have ignored her, but she kept staring at me. I told myself: 'Trasha, calm down, though you are already in jail, you don't need any other charges brought against you.'
She kept staring and I puffed my cig hard. I clenched my jaw and bit my tongue, but I just couldn't keep my trap shut.
"What the fuck is your problem, bitch?" I asked, as politely as I could.
"I know you, whore. You turn tricks down at White Way and The Memphis Lounge. Thank God you haven't been around in a while so the rest of us lizards can get the business. You're a man-hog!"
"Well, it looks like you won't be getting much business tonight, lady. Neither of us will--we're locked up. And don't get bitter because the men want me. I've been turning tricks since I got my period--I'm a fucking legend!"
The woman snorted. "Legend! Right. You may have lost a few hundred pounds, but you're still as ugly as the day is long!"
I glared at her. I am beautiful and with enough guidance, I could probably win beauty pageants. People say I look just like Delta Burke--she was as pageant queen! This bitch was just jealous and I knew it.
"Don't be sore because I have a mouth full of teeth and yours have rotted out from all that meth. Don't try to deny it--I can tell a Meth Mouth when I see one. And look at all those scabs. You're a mess and the only reason those men are on you is because I've flown the coop. But don't get too comfy because I'm coming back and with a vengeance. Spread the word to the other nasty sluts you work with."
One of the guards at the station opened the cell door. "Hey, you--put out that damn cigarette and make your one phone call."
He was talking to me. I stood up, straightened my dress, tossed my cig on the ground and stamped it out with my high heel. Head held high, I excited the cell and made my phone call to the only person I could call: my twin sister, Cunt Face.
She said she'd be there as soon as she could--she needed to dig up the bail money. I cursed my family for being so fucking poor and hoped Cunt Face could either borrow or steal the cash ASAP. I am not meant for prison or jail life. I'm a fucking star!
Hours has passed and I nodded off to sleep. I dreamed of being cozy warm, curled up in my recliner with Starla in my arms. I was woken back to harsh reality when one of the guards banged on the cell with his billy club.
"Get up, fat ass. You've made bail."
I acted like he wasn't talking to me, but he banged the door again.
"My name is Miss Trasha White, living legend and lead--"
"Save it!" He yelled and pulled my by the arm out of the cell.
"I've never been treated with such disrespect before--I'm with child for God's sake!"
I was lead out of the jail and into another room for processing. That's when I saw Cunt Face. She ran up to me and put her arms around me.
"Oh, Cunt Face, I'm so happy to see you. How the hell did you get the cash to bail me out of here???"
Before she could answer, I saw exactly who had given her the money. And I couldn't believe my eyes!
(To Be Continued)
Love,
Trasha
Creating a New Reality
Hey Friends,
After Cunt Face and I settled Mama into my trailer (and, per her request, moved Starla's crib back into her bedroom), we rolled a blunt, grabbed a couple of Coors Lights and took a drive around the backwoods of rural Michigan.
We loved taking smoke drives--it was our "thing". Nothing was better than driving around with Cunt Face, getting stoned and listening to music. And it was especially great in the winter time, when the warmth of the car was in complete contrast to the frosty world outside.
When we were in the middle of nowhere, I took out the blunt and smeared it with honey. "This is what Shonda did," I told my twin sister.
"Then we shall smoke this blunt in her honor." She replied, giving me a little smile.
I lit the sticky pot-filled cigar and took a liberal hit. "This is ain't bad for the baby, is it? I mean, it's natural."
"I'm sure it's a lot better than a Coors Light! I thought you weren't drinking with this pregnancy."
I shrugged. "Who cares? I'm not a good mother, never been one and I'll never ever be one. People don't change Cunt Face and that's just how it is."
She laughed. "Jesus Christ, you are so cynical! You always look on the dark side of things--you never take in all the good things in life."
Now I was laughing. "Good things?! What good things?"
"You're alive. You're well. Mama has her memory back. You have a daughter who is happy and healthy--despite all the drinking and drugging you did during her pregnancy. You've got a life growing inside you now and you haven't aborted it yet. Trasha, you're growing and changing...perhaps it's your impending birthday or whatnot, but I think you're becoming a better person and you sure as hell should be happy about that!"
I thought about what Cunt Face said and she was right. I am pretty much a "glass is half-empty" kind of lady. How did Cunt Face maintain such a bright outlook in this bleak, bleak world. Surely it couldn't be all roses for her--she's a tranny! People aren't very positive to trannies, so how could she be so positive to them? Perhaps she got all the good traits and I got all the shitty ones, we were twins after all.
"Yeah, you probably have a point there, sister dear." I rested my hand on my womb, trying to feel the life growing inside of me. "But I'll drink this beer just the same. It'll relax the baby."
To be honest, I was changing and I knew it. But changing is scary because I'm thinking and feeling things I've never thought or felt before. It's like I don't even know who I am! I mean, not like I have amnesia or anything, but I just feel like a stranger in my own skin.
"My life used to be so simple before: I turned tricks, I sold my Home Abortion Kit, I made music, I hated babies and I was milking PJ for his disability checks. Then, everything goes haywire and PJ dies, I actually carry a baby to term and end up really digging her, I get hooked up with a drug-dealing madman who turns out to be a slave-drivin' baby seller! Then all this shit happens with Mama and finding out we have a brother we never knew existed and you become a tranny--"
"Hey, you said you accepted me!"
"I do! I do, but it is still one more major thing that has really flipped my entire life around! Can't you see how this would all be a little hard to take? You wonder why I am not looking at life through rose-tinted glasses?"
Cunt Face took the blunt from me and hit it hard. A few moments later, she expelled a huge cloud and said: "I don't look at life like that, Trasha. I'm not a fucking idiot. You have a choice to make: you can either look past the bullshit for those good things or you can focus on all the bad and be miserable. I prefer to not make my life a living hell and that is something you need to realize. You create your reality, Trasha."
Like always, Cunt Face was right: I do create my own reality and I made a promise right then and there, on the eve of my birthday, to create a new reality for myself. And this one wouldn't be a pile of shit!
Love,
Trasha
After Cunt Face and I settled Mama into my trailer (and, per her request, moved Starla's crib back into her bedroom), we rolled a blunt, grabbed a couple of Coors Lights and took a drive around the backwoods of rural Michigan.
We loved taking smoke drives--it was our "thing". Nothing was better than driving around with Cunt Face, getting stoned and listening to music. And it was especially great in the winter time, when the warmth of the car was in complete contrast to the frosty world outside.
When we were in the middle of nowhere, I took out the blunt and smeared it with honey. "This is what Shonda did," I told my twin sister.
"Then we shall smoke this blunt in her honor." She replied, giving me a little smile.
I lit the sticky pot-filled cigar and took a liberal hit. "This is ain't bad for the baby, is it? I mean, it's natural."
"I'm sure it's a lot better than a Coors Light! I thought you weren't drinking with this pregnancy."
I shrugged. "Who cares? I'm not a good mother, never been one and I'll never ever be one. People don't change Cunt Face and that's just how it is."
She laughed. "Jesus Christ, you are so cynical! You always look on the dark side of things--you never take in all the good things in life."
Now I was laughing. "Good things?! What good things?"
"You're alive. You're well. Mama has her memory back. You have a daughter who is happy and healthy--despite all the drinking and drugging you did during her pregnancy. You've got a life growing inside you now and you haven't aborted it yet. Trasha, you're growing and changing...perhaps it's your impending birthday or whatnot, but I think you're becoming a better person and you sure as hell should be happy about that!"
I thought about what Cunt Face said and she was right. I am pretty much a "glass is half-empty" kind of lady. How did Cunt Face maintain such a bright outlook in this bleak, bleak world. Surely it couldn't be all roses for her--she's a tranny! People aren't very positive to trannies, so how could she be so positive to them? Perhaps she got all the good traits and I got all the shitty ones, we were twins after all.
"Yeah, you probably have a point there, sister dear." I rested my hand on my womb, trying to feel the life growing inside of me. "But I'll drink this beer just the same. It'll relax the baby."
To be honest, I was changing and I knew it. But changing is scary because I'm thinking and feeling things I've never thought or felt before. It's like I don't even know who I am! I mean, not like I have amnesia or anything, but I just feel like a stranger in my own skin.
"My life used to be so simple before: I turned tricks, I sold my Home Abortion Kit, I made music, I hated babies and I was milking PJ for his disability checks. Then, everything goes haywire and PJ dies, I actually carry a baby to term and end up really digging her, I get hooked up with a drug-dealing madman who turns out to be a slave-drivin' baby seller! Then all this shit happens with Mama and finding out we have a brother we never knew existed and you become a tranny--"
"Hey, you said you accepted me!"
"I do! I do, but it is still one more major thing that has really flipped my entire life around! Can't you see how this would all be a little hard to take? You wonder why I am not looking at life through rose-tinted glasses?"
Cunt Face took the blunt from me and hit it hard. A few moments later, she expelled a huge cloud and said: "I don't look at life like that, Trasha. I'm not a fucking idiot. You have a choice to make: you can either look past the bullshit for those good things or you can focus on all the bad and be miserable. I prefer to not make my life a living hell and that is something you need to realize. You create your reality, Trasha."
Like always, Cunt Face was right: I do create my own reality and I made a promise right then and there, on the eve of my birthday, to create a new reality for myself. And this one wouldn't be a pile of shit!
Love,
Trasha
Mama's Back--And So Is Her MEMORY!
Hey Friends,
We found Mama. I knew exactly where she'd turn up--with her limited memory and all (thanks to the amnesia). Cunt Face pulled my car into Jackson Trailer Park and my heart felt sick. I missed it so--I never imagined I would. I wanted so desperately to get out of there but living in a "fancy" Mobile Home Estate park isn't all it's cracked up to be. But I digress...
We got out of the car, bracing ourselves against the harsh winter wind. I held Starla close so the cold wouldn't hit her face. We didn't bother knocking on Mama's trailer door, we just opened it and went inside and there she was, sitting in the partially-burned living room, looking through a box of photos, letters and other trinkets of the past.
"Mama?" I said, apprehensively. When Mama had her memory, she was unpredictable as all hell, but without it, I really had no idea what I was in for. A smile, a frown or a bottle being heaved at my head!
She looked up and our eyes met. Tears were flowing down her face.
"Trasha...Cunt Face...I remember."
I was shocked at the disappointment in her voice--I thought she'd be thrilled when her memory returned. But, it hasn't been such a good road for Mama, so I don't know what I was thinking. She was probably much happier living in the dark. Now that she remembered her life, she had to face it and let's be real: if there is one thing we Whites avoid at all costs, it's facing our demons.
"Oh, Mama..." I said, handing Starla to Cunt Face. I sat next to Mama on the sofa and held her in my arms. Her sobs increased and the photos she was holding in her hand fell to the ground.
When she pulled away to wipe her nose on her sleeve, I bent down and picked up the pictures. They were of her in a wedding dress with a man I did not recognize.
"Is this...Jacob's father?" I asked.
She nodded. "Yep, that's him all right. Oh, Trasha, I tried--I really did. I tried to be the perfect housewife and mother, but I failed. I fucked my whole life up and I have no one but myself--and your good for nothing father--to blame for it. I wish I had steered clear of him, but he just charmed the pants off of me: literally."
"So, you're saying Daddy busted up your marriage to Jacob's father?"
She nodded and then snorted loudly, swallowing her phlegm. "Yep--I was young and stupid and frankly BORED. Your father was like a snake oil salesmen and I fell for him in a blink. Jacob's daddy was proper, with solid morals and a good upbringing. Your daddy was wild, untamed and dangerous. Little did I know just how dangerous he was. I used to sit and wonder what my life would have been like if I had just resisted that urge..."
"Mama, you can't change the past. If you stayed with Jacob's daddy, you never would have had us."
She looked at me with a blank stare.
"OK, bad example."
Cunt Face sat on the other side of Mama.
"Would you like to hold Starla?" She asked her.
I felt a twinge of jealousy--Mama's amnesia brought Starla and I together and now that Mama had her memory back, she would no doubt want Starla. Could I let her go?
"Oh yes!" Mama exclaimed. "Come here darling--Gran-Gran has missed you something awful!"
Starla laughed with glee; she really did love Mama. How could I blame her? Mama raised her. I just birthed her and sold her off on the black market. How could I lay any claims on that child, regardless of how I feel about her now?
We sat there for a while, in silence. I looked down at the box Mama had been rifling through.
"So, now that you have your memory back, are there any other kids out there or previous husbands we should know about?" I asked.
Mama laughed. "Oh, Trasha--a woman has to have her secrets. Sorry for not telling you all about Jacob sooner...I'm not exactly the ideal mother--I fucked you all over real bad. I don't know if any of you will ever forgive me."
Cunt Face wrapped her arms around Mama. "I forgive you!"
Mama smiled, leaning into Cunt Face's hug.
Like a good twin, I matched my sister's affection and wrapped my arms around Mama, too.
"I guess I forgive you, too. Unfortunately, you're the only mother I got!"
We held each other for a while. Whether we were just keeping warm or truly showing love to one another, I couldn't tell. Situations are different for everyone, you know? But I will say it's a relief to have Mama back. The next time I throw her out of my trailer, it'll have a bigger impact!
Love,
Trasha
We found Mama. I knew exactly where she'd turn up--with her limited memory and all (thanks to the amnesia). Cunt Face pulled my car into Jackson Trailer Park and my heart felt sick. I missed it so--I never imagined I would. I wanted so desperately to get out of there but living in a "fancy" Mobile Home Estate park isn't all it's cracked up to be. But I digress...
We got out of the car, bracing ourselves against the harsh winter wind. I held Starla close so the cold wouldn't hit her face. We didn't bother knocking on Mama's trailer door, we just opened it and went inside and there she was, sitting in the partially-burned living room, looking through a box of photos, letters and other trinkets of the past.
"Mama?" I said, apprehensively. When Mama had her memory, she was unpredictable as all hell, but without it, I really had no idea what I was in for. A smile, a frown or a bottle being heaved at my head!
She looked up and our eyes met. Tears were flowing down her face.
"Trasha...Cunt Face...I remember."
I was shocked at the disappointment in her voice--I thought she'd be thrilled when her memory returned. But, it hasn't been such a good road for Mama, so I don't know what I was thinking. She was probably much happier living in the dark. Now that she remembered her life, she had to face it and let's be real: if there is one thing we Whites avoid at all costs, it's facing our demons.
"Oh, Mama..." I said, handing Starla to Cunt Face. I sat next to Mama on the sofa and held her in my arms. Her sobs increased and the photos she was holding in her hand fell to the ground.
When she pulled away to wipe her nose on her sleeve, I bent down and picked up the pictures. They were of her in a wedding dress with a man I did not recognize.
"Is this...Jacob's father?" I asked.
She nodded. "Yep, that's him all right. Oh, Trasha, I tried--I really did. I tried to be the perfect housewife and mother, but I failed. I fucked my whole life up and I have no one but myself--and your good for nothing father--to blame for it. I wish I had steered clear of him, but he just charmed the pants off of me: literally."
"So, you're saying Daddy busted up your marriage to Jacob's father?"
She nodded and then snorted loudly, swallowing her phlegm. "Yep--I was young and stupid and frankly BORED. Your father was like a snake oil salesmen and I fell for him in a blink. Jacob's daddy was proper, with solid morals and a good upbringing. Your daddy was wild, untamed and dangerous. Little did I know just how dangerous he was. I used to sit and wonder what my life would have been like if I had just resisted that urge..."
"Mama, you can't change the past. If you stayed with Jacob's daddy, you never would have had us."
She looked at me with a blank stare.
"OK, bad example."
Cunt Face sat on the other side of Mama.
"Would you like to hold Starla?" She asked her.
I felt a twinge of jealousy--Mama's amnesia brought Starla and I together and now that Mama had her memory back, she would no doubt want Starla. Could I let her go?
"Oh yes!" Mama exclaimed. "Come here darling--Gran-Gran has missed you something awful!"
Starla laughed with glee; she really did love Mama. How could I blame her? Mama raised her. I just birthed her and sold her off on the black market. How could I lay any claims on that child, regardless of how I feel about her now?
We sat there for a while, in silence. I looked down at the box Mama had been rifling through.
"So, now that you have your memory back, are there any other kids out there or previous husbands we should know about?" I asked.
Mama laughed. "Oh, Trasha--a woman has to have her secrets. Sorry for not telling you all about Jacob sooner...I'm not exactly the ideal mother--I fucked you all over real bad. I don't know if any of you will ever forgive me."
Cunt Face wrapped her arms around Mama. "I forgive you!"
Mama smiled, leaning into Cunt Face's hug.
Like a good twin, I matched my sister's affection and wrapped my arms around Mama, too.
"I guess I forgive you, too. Unfortunately, you're the only mother I got!"
We held each other for a while. Whether we were just keeping warm or truly showing love to one another, I couldn't tell. Situations are different for everyone, you know? But I will say it's a relief to have Mama back. The next time I throw her out of my trailer, it'll have a bigger impact!
Love,
Trasha
Mama's Missing!!!!
Hey Friends,
I'm sicker than a dog! I cannot wait for the first trimester of this pregnancy to be over so I can feel somewhat normal again. Some good news is that Cunt Face finally returned, so I had someone to hold my hair back as I puked in the toilet!
We got into a huge fight and you wouldn't believe what it was about: POLITICS! I know, I know, you'd never think either Cunt Face or myself were politically-inclined, but stranger things have happened. Anyway, Cunt Face was on her soap box about Obama and how he is this and how he is that and basically that he should be our next president. I quickly disagreed and said my choice was Mike Huckabee. Cunt Face looked at me, slack-jawed.
"Are you serious? Mike Huckabee? He is so hateful and anti-gay--anti-everything! I'd never think you'd endorse someone who would take away your rights to have an abortion!"
I shrugged. "What do I care? It's not like I go to the doctor! I support him because he's honest. At least with him, you know who he hates and who he's against. Those others--those democrats are all smoke and mirrors--you just can't trust them. Don't believe the hype: Obama may be a tall sexy black man, but he's full of hot air. Huckabee all the way!"
We went round and round about that until the phone interrupted us. I had grown so weary of the argument that I quickly answered it.
"Who the hell is this?" I asked, my normal telephonic greeting.
"Trasha, is that you?" It was a man.
"Um, yes, it is. And like I said before: who the hell is this?"
"It's me, Jacob."
My jaw clenched. "What the fuck do you want, Jacob? You already stole my Mama from me--what's next? You want to steal Cunt Face, too? You want my tranny twin sister?"
"No, no--but listen, I have to make this quick. Bonnie is gone--she has left my house and I have no idea where she is! You know she has no memory, no idea of where to go, so she could be anywhere by now."
I exhaled heavily, clearly annoyed. "Oh that's just great, Jacob. What a great son you've turned out to be. I know you're a big fucking fraud anyway--you can't fool me. You may be able to fool my Mama, but you will never--and I mean NEVER--pull the wool over the eyes of Trasha White!"
He started apologizing and I really stopped paying attention. I pictured Mama in the middle of a blizzard, buried neck high in a snow drift. Where could she be???
I hung the phone up while Jacob was trying to defend himself. I told Cunt Face what had happened and she said: "Well, we gotta get out of here and go find Mama!"
"But Cunt Face, it's my birthday tomorrow!!!!"
"Well if it wasn't for Mama, you wouldn't be having a birthday! Come on--let's MOVE!"
So I got my fat ass out of the recliner, bundled up Starla in a new winter outfit I got for her at Target and the three of us set out to find Mama. That bitch better have not wandered off far!!!
Love,
Trasha
I'm sicker than a dog! I cannot wait for the first trimester of this pregnancy to be over so I can feel somewhat normal again. Some good news is that Cunt Face finally returned, so I had someone to hold my hair back as I puked in the toilet!
We got into a huge fight and you wouldn't believe what it was about: POLITICS! I know, I know, you'd never think either Cunt Face or myself were politically-inclined, but stranger things have happened. Anyway, Cunt Face was on her soap box about Obama and how he is this and how he is that and basically that he should be our next president. I quickly disagreed and said my choice was Mike Huckabee. Cunt Face looked at me, slack-jawed.
"Are you serious? Mike Huckabee? He is so hateful and anti-gay--anti-everything! I'd never think you'd endorse someone who would take away your rights to have an abortion!"
I shrugged. "What do I care? It's not like I go to the doctor! I support him because he's honest. At least with him, you know who he hates and who he's against. Those others--those democrats are all smoke and mirrors--you just can't trust them. Don't believe the hype: Obama may be a tall sexy black man, but he's full of hot air. Huckabee all the way!"
We went round and round about that until the phone interrupted us. I had grown so weary of the argument that I quickly answered it.
"Who the hell is this?" I asked, my normal telephonic greeting.
"Trasha, is that you?" It was a man.
"Um, yes, it is. And like I said before: who the hell is this?"
"It's me, Jacob."
My jaw clenched. "What the fuck do you want, Jacob? You already stole my Mama from me--what's next? You want to steal Cunt Face, too? You want my tranny twin sister?"
"No, no--but listen, I have to make this quick. Bonnie is gone--she has left my house and I have no idea where she is! You know she has no memory, no idea of where to go, so she could be anywhere by now."
I exhaled heavily, clearly annoyed. "Oh that's just great, Jacob. What a great son you've turned out to be. I know you're a big fucking fraud anyway--you can't fool me. You may be able to fool my Mama, but you will never--and I mean NEVER--pull the wool over the eyes of Trasha White!"
He started apologizing and I really stopped paying attention. I pictured Mama in the middle of a blizzard, buried neck high in a snow drift. Where could she be???
I hung the phone up while Jacob was trying to defend himself. I told Cunt Face what had happened and she said: "Well, we gotta get out of here and go find Mama!"
"But Cunt Face, it's my birthday tomorrow!!!!"
"Well if it wasn't for Mama, you wouldn't be having a birthday! Come on--let's MOVE!"
So I got my fat ass out of the recliner, bundled up Starla in a new winter outfit I got for her at Target and the three of us set out to find Mama. That bitch better have not wandered off far!!!
Love,
Trasha
I'm a STAR!
Hey Friends,
God bless my bladder--I hope I don't piss myself before I tell you what kind of night I just had! Seriously, I am shaking so bad this keyboard is nearly slipping off my TV tray.
Calm down, Trasha.
Or should I call myself: MISS TRASHA WHITE:BIG HUGE MOTHERFUCKING STAR???!!!!!
That's right ladies and gentlemen--I am finally and officially once and for all a huge God damned (sorry Jesus) motherfucking porn star! The premier of "My Little Pony Fucker II" was a roaring success. The theater was packed--I don't think it's had so many asses in those seats since the 70's, I tell you what. But there they were, packed in row after row. There wasn't a red carpet like I imagined--I was actually ushered in quite quickly and UNstar-like, but I guess bestiality porn is kind of uncool in Detroit.
However, my star status was confirmed during the first twenty minutes of the film. Seeing myself up there, on the big screen, getting railed by that donkey...well, it made me proud. I felt like I had accomplished something with my life and I could point to that screen and say: "That's me. You are hear to watch ME!"
The scenes with me and Shonda doing those lesbian scenes was bittersweet. I knew she was out there somewhere in Witness Protection and if she could, I knew she'd be here tonight, sitting right next to me and Daddy.
Speaking of Daddy, he was just thrilled as all get out that he got to arrive with the very STAR of the film we were all about to see. He held on to my arm and said to people: "This is my daughter--she's the star of this film, you hear? The STAR! There's not a tighter pussy in the business! This gal does her Kegel's! HER KEGEL'S!"
It warmed my heart to make him so proud. With things being so shaky between Mama and me, it's nice to have one parent I can truly count on. He sat there, next to me, and like all of the other men in the theater, he too was masturbating. And when he came, I felt like I had really given him something, you know? Something special.
I'd rather he didn't use my dress to wipe his hands on, though. He just doesn't understand how hard it is to get cum out of a polyester blend.
We left once the film was over, not staying for the blooper reels and deleted scenes from the film, like when I was riding Raul from underneath and he shit all over the place! I'm talking comedy gold, people. I wanted to avoid the throngs of hot and horny men, pawing at me like starved beasts and was lucky enough to do just that. Daddy and I parted ways at his car (we drove separately).
We stood and looked at each other. He grabbed my hands.
"Let's go out and have some drinks--and some coke. Your Daddy hooked up some very clean coke. Come on--let's go, you and me."
"I can't, Daddy..."
He looked at me, like I was a crazy homeless woman or something.
"You can't? I thought you said you and Cain were through--are you still seeing him? Is there something you're not telling me?"
His breath was coming out in hot plumes, burning the frosty winter air. His eyes bulged; he was losing it.
I squeezed his hands. I had to tell him.
"I can't Daddy, not because of Cain...but because...I pregnant, Daddy. I'm gonna have a baby and I can't do coke and drink. Not with this pregnancy at least. I'm trying to do something right for a change and not get hammered while I'm carrying this child."
"You? Give up boozing and drugs just because you're pregnant? I'm surprised you're carrying another kid to term--I thought that Starla was a...supple little fluke. What the hell has gotten into you? It's that black, isn't it? Cain--that black--has got your mind all twisted and crazy!"
"Daddy, no! This has nothing to do with Cain or anybody. This is all me, wanting to become a better person. I have to start somewhere and I'm gonna start with this baby. I know I was a terrible mother with Starla--I drank, I turned tricks, I did whatever drugs were in reaching distance--but I'm changing. You're going to have to respect my decision to not abort this baby and to stay sober during my pregnancy."
He gave me a suspicious look. Hell, I was suspicious, too! I could hardly believe the words that were pouring out of my mouth. What started as a simple way to blow Daddy off was turning into a God's honest confessional. What the fuck, right??!!! All the same, he turned his back on me and got into his car, without saying another word.
Daddy would have to get used to this new me. I mean, it could be his baby I'm carrying for all I know. I didn't really think of that much, with all that has been going on. I didn't think of the most important question I can ask myself:
WHO IS THIS BABY'S FATHER?
Is it:
a) My Daddy
b) Cain
c) Leonard, Cain's business partner
d) None of the above (probably just some John from the truck stop)
What do you think?
Love,
Trasha
God bless my bladder--I hope I don't piss myself before I tell you what kind of night I just had! Seriously, I am shaking so bad this keyboard is nearly slipping off my TV tray.
Calm down, Trasha.
Or should I call myself: MISS TRASHA WHITE:
That's right ladies and gentlemen--I am finally and officially once and for all a huge God damned (sorry Jesus) motherfucking porn star! The premier of "My Little Pony Fucker II" was a roaring success. The theater was packed--I don't think it's had so many asses in those seats since the 70's, I tell you what. But there they were, packed in row after row. There wasn't a red carpet like I imagined--I was actually ushered in quite quickly and UNstar-like, but I guess bestiality porn is kind of uncool in Detroit.
However, my star status was confirmed during the first twenty minutes of the film. Seeing myself up there, on the big screen, getting railed by that donkey...well, it made me proud. I felt like I had accomplished something with my life and I could point to that screen and say: "That's me. You are hear to watch ME!"
The scenes with me and Shonda doing those lesbian scenes was bittersweet. I knew she was out there somewhere in Witness Protection and if she could, I knew she'd be here tonight, sitting right next to me and Daddy.
Speaking of Daddy, he was just thrilled as all get out that he got to arrive with the very STAR of the film we were all about to see. He held on to my arm and said to people: "This is my daughter--she's the star of this film, you hear? The STAR! There's not a tighter pussy in the business! This gal does her Kegel's! HER KEGEL'S!"
It warmed my heart to make him so proud. With things being so shaky between Mama and me, it's nice to have one parent I can truly count on. He sat there, next to me, and like all of the other men in the theater, he too was masturbating. And when he came, I felt like I had really given him something, you know? Something special.
I'd rather he didn't use my dress to wipe his hands on, though. He just doesn't understand how hard it is to get cum out of a polyester blend.
We left once the film was over, not staying for the blooper reels and deleted scenes from the film, like when I was riding Raul from underneath and he shit all over the place! I'm talking comedy gold, people. I wanted to avoid the throngs of hot and horny men, pawing at me like starved beasts and was lucky enough to do just that. Daddy and I parted ways at his car (we drove separately).
We stood and looked at each other. He grabbed my hands.
"Let's go out and have some drinks--and some coke. Your Daddy hooked up some very clean coke. Come on--let's go, you and me."
"I can't, Daddy..."
He looked at me, like I was a crazy homeless woman or something.
"You can't? I thought you said you and Cain were through--are you still seeing him? Is there something you're not telling me?"
His breath was coming out in hot plumes, burning the frosty winter air. His eyes bulged; he was losing it.
I squeezed his hands. I had to tell him.
"I can't Daddy, not because of Cain...but because...I pregnant, Daddy. I'm gonna have a baby and I can't do coke and drink. Not with this pregnancy at least. I'm trying to do something right for a change and not get hammered while I'm carrying this child."
"You? Give up boozing and drugs just because you're pregnant? I'm surprised you're carrying another kid to term--I thought that Starla was a...supple little fluke. What the hell has gotten into you? It's that black, isn't it? Cain--that black--has got your mind all twisted and crazy!"
"Daddy, no! This has nothing to do with Cain or anybody. This is all me, wanting to become a better person. I have to start somewhere and I'm gonna start with this baby. I know I was a terrible mother with Starla--I drank, I turned tricks, I did whatever drugs were in reaching distance--but I'm changing. You're going to have to respect my decision to not abort this baby and to stay sober during my pregnancy."
He gave me a suspicious look. Hell, I was suspicious, too! I could hardly believe the words that were pouring out of my mouth. What started as a simple way to blow Daddy off was turning into a God's honest confessional. What the fuck, right??!!! All the same, he turned his back on me and got into his car, without saying another word.
Daddy would have to get used to this new me. I mean, it could be his baby I'm carrying for all I know. I didn't really think of that much, with all that has been going on. I didn't think of the most important question I can ask myself:
WHO IS THIS BABY'S FATHER?
Is it:
a) My Daddy
b) Cain
c) Leonard, Cain's business partner
d) None of the above (probably just some John from the truck stop)
What do you think?
Love,
Trasha
Tides are Turning
Hey Friends,
I was really down in the dumps, I tell ya. With barely surviving the escape from Cain's slave camp/black market baby mill, finding out that I'm pregnant again and Mama up and leaving me after my long-lost brother appears and woos her away, it's a miracle that I'm still standing. Well, technically I'm sitting in my recliner with this WebTV thing on my lap, but you get the point.
However, I'm pleased to announce that the tides in my life may be turning. The phone rang during one of my frequent afternoon naps; it was Daddy. Now, I haven't talked to Daddy since I started bumming around with Cain and Daddy wasn't too happy that another man was taking attention away from him. It all seemed like water under the bridge though, from the tone of Daddy's voice when he told me that my latest porn flick, "My Little Pony Fucker II", was being released to limited theaters around the country and there would be a premier at one of the theaters in downtown Detroit.
"Oh, Darling," He purred. "It's just like old times. I mean it seems like yesterday that I was escorting you to your first porn film premier. But you're not six anymore, no siree. You are a bona fide, grade A w-o-m-a-n and more stunning than ever, if I do say so myself."
"Oh, Daddy," I said, coyly. "You always were such a sweet talker. I'd be thrilled to attend this premier with you."
"You sure your boyfriend won't get jealous?" He was restraining his rage, it was apparent.
"You mean Cain? Well, he's old news. We're not together anymore--and that has nothing to do with the fact that he's currently in jail. We just broke up is all."
There was silence on the other end of the line. Either Daddy had been jerking off and just came or it was because of what I just told him. Though, I expected him to be thrilled that the man that was in my life is now out of it, therefore leaving room for him to come back in.
"Hello? Earth to Daddy!"
"Darling, did you say the man you were dating is named Cain?"
"Uh, yeah--why?" Did Daddy do jail time with Cain or something?
"Trasha, darling, listen to me: I know this man...Cain. I never told you this, but I had been involved in some dealings involving the black market..."
Then it hit me: Mama had warned me about Daddy and some shady business he was doing with babies on the black market. He was involved in selling them and she saved Starla from his clutches. Why did I totally forget about that? Why didn't I make this connection sooner?
Daddy and Cain were doing business together. Daddy could have been at that slave camp for all I know, making sure the girls were churning out babies as fast as they could. He could have arranged all this, with Cain, for all I know.
"I know." I told him, flatly. "I know about the babies. And I know you had plans on taking my Starla and selling her off to God-knows-who. Well, let me tell you this, Daddy: you lay one finger on my daughter and I swear to God in Heaven that I will cut off your dick and shove it up your ass. Then I'll pull it out and shove it down your motherfucking throat!!"
"Whoa, baby, baby, wait a minute--I think there is some misunderstanding. I never had any intentions of buying or selling Starla. I merely wanted to make sure my granddaughter went to a good home. Remember, you sold her on the black market all on your own."
He was right, I had sold Starla all on my own. I was just as bad as Daddy, as Cain. How could I judge them?
"Let's start over, Daddy. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. Listen, I'm really excited about this premier. I will buy a sexy dress for the occasion. I'll even wear one of those thongs you like."
He breathed in and out with force. "You mean, the red one?"
I moaned. "Umm hmm. The red one. Just like you like. The crotchless ones."
He groaned with pleasure. "Keep talkin' baby, keep talkin'. What else you gonna wear? You gonna wear heels?"
"Uh huh, red patent-leather heels...six inches..."
"Do they..." He was beginning to gasp. "Lace up?"
I moaned more. "Yes, they lace up--way up my calves. You wanna lace them up me, Daddy? You wanna buckle them for me?"
"Yeah...I wanna...buckle them." I could hear a consistent slapping.
"Go ahead and buckle them, Daddy. Buckle your daughter's heels."
He roared with ecstasy. I still had it.
Love,
Trasha
I was really down in the dumps, I tell ya. With barely surviving the escape from Cain's slave camp/black market baby mill, finding out that I'm pregnant again and Mama up and leaving me after my long-lost brother appears and woos her away, it's a miracle that I'm still standing. Well, technically I'm sitting in my recliner with this WebTV thing on my lap, but you get the point.
However, I'm pleased to announce that the tides in my life may be turning. The phone rang during one of my frequent afternoon naps; it was Daddy. Now, I haven't talked to Daddy since I started bumming around with Cain and Daddy wasn't too happy that another man was taking attention away from him. It all seemed like water under the bridge though, from the tone of Daddy's voice when he told me that my latest porn flick, "My Little Pony Fucker II", was being released to limited theaters around the country and there would be a premier at one of the theaters in downtown Detroit.
"Oh, Darling," He purred. "It's just like old times. I mean it seems like yesterday that I was escorting you to your first porn film premier. But you're not six anymore, no siree. You are a bona fide, grade A w-o-m-a-n and more stunning than ever, if I do say so myself."
"Oh, Daddy," I said, coyly. "You always were such a sweet talker. I'd be thrilled to attend this premier with you."
"You sure your boyfriend won't get jealous?" He was restraining his rage, it was apparent.
"You mean Cain? Well, he's old news. We're not together anymore--and that has nothing to do with the fact that he's currently in jail. We just broke up is all."
There was silence on the other end of the line. Either Daddy had been jerking off and just came or it was because of what I just told him. Though, I expected him to be thrilled that the man that was in my life is now out of it, therefore leaving room for him to come back in.
"Hello? Earth to Daddy!"
"Darling, did you say the man you were dating is named Cain?"
"Uh, yeah--why?" Did Daddy do jail time with Cain or something?
"Trasha, darling, listen to me: I know this man...Cain. I never told you this, but I had been involved in some dealings involving the black market..."
Then it hit me: Mama had warned me about Daddy and some shady business he was doing with babies on the black market. He was involved in selling them and she saved Starla from his clutches. Why did I totally forget about that? Why didn't I make this connection sooner?
Daddy and Cain were doing business together. Daddy could have been at that slave camp for all I know, making sure the girls were churning out babies as fast as they could. He could have arranged all this, with Cain, for all I know.
"I know." I told him, flatly. "I know about the babies. And I know you had plans on taking my Starla and selling her off to God-knows-who. Well, let me tell you this, Daddy: you lay one finger on my daughter and I swear to God in Heaven that I will cut off your dick and shove it up your ass. Then I'll pull it out and shove it down your motherfucking throat!!"
"Whoa, baby, baby, wait a minute--I think there is some misunderstanding. I never had any intentions of buying or selling Starla. I merely wanted to make sure my granddaughter went to a good home. Remember, you sold her on the black market all on your own."
He was right, I had sold Starla all on my own. I was just as bad as Daddy, as Cain. How could I judge them?
"Let's start over, Daddy. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. Listen, I'm really excited about this premier. I will buy a sexy dress for the occasion. I'll even wear one of those thongs you like."
He breathed in and out with force. "You mean, the red one?"
I moaned. "Umm hmm. The red one. Just like you like. The crotchless ones."
He groaned with pleasure. "Keep talkin' baby, keep talkin'. What else you gonna wear? You gonna wear heels?"
"Uh huh, red patent-leather heels...six inches..."
"Do they..." He was beginning to gasp. "Lace up?"
I moaned more. "Yes, they lace up--way up my calves. You wanna lace them up me, Daddy? You wanna buckle them for me?"
"Yeah...I wanna...buckle them." I could hear a consistent slapping.
"Go ahead and buckle them, Daddy. Buckle your daughter's heels."
He roared with ecstasy. I still had it.
Love,
Trasha
Good Riddance!
Hey Friends,
I ain't talking to Mama anymore--let me tell you why.
The last I told you, Jacob (my long-lost brother from Mama's previous marriage, which she knows nothing about since she has AMNESIA) showed up out of nowhere. He stayed the night and he and Mama were up to all hours, gabbing like a couple of retards. They took to each other instantly, making me more than a little jealous. I mean, this guy appears on my trailer doorstep out of the blue and he's already closer to Mama than Cunt Face and me? Whatever!
Speaking of, I haven't seen Cunt Face's mug in a few days. I don't know wherehe she is--she hasn't called and she hasn't come home. Cunt Face was always very independent, so I'm sure it's nothing, but still I wonder where her big old tranny ass is.
Back to what I was saying. So Jacob is all over Mama like a drunken Thai prostitute and I'm pissed. I felt like they were intentionally trying to annoy me the next day when Mama said she was going to a fancy breakfast with Jacob. He was taking her to IHOP and I was not invited.
"Screw pancakes--why don't you two both go to HELL instead?" I said from my recliner, Starla bouncing on my knee.
"Don't be bitter--it makes you look uglier than you already are!" She snapped back, pulling on her heavy coat.
Jacob appeared soon after, all bundled up and ready to go. "Thanks for letting me stay over, Trasha--that was really nice of you."
"Yeah, whatever." I replied, not looking at him. My initial attraction to him had already faded to cool disgust.
When Mama came back later that afternoon, it was only to pack her bags. Apparently, she was leaving to move in with Jacob.
"But you don't know him!" I yelled. "How could you just go off with some stranger?"
She zipped up her suitcase. "Easy--I don't know know you either and frankly, you get on my nerves. See you later, woman."
I watched her thumping her way down the stairs, the suitcase weighing nearly as much--if not more--than she did.
"Well, fuck you then, lady!" I screamed, Starla on my hip. "Forget where this trailer is--you ain't welcome here no more!"
Jacob's eyes caught mine briefly as he helped Mama into the passenger seat of his fancy dark blue Dodge Neon.
"Eat shit and die!" I bellowed as they drove off, out of the the trailer park and hopefully, out of my life forever!
Love,
Trasha
I ain't talking to Mama anymore--let me tell you why.
The last I told you, Jacob (my long-lost brother from Mama's previous marriage, which she knows nothing about since she has AMNESIA) showed up out of nowhere. He stayed the night and he and Mama were up to all hours, gabbing like a couple of retards. They took to each other instantly, making me more than a little jealous. I mean, this guy appears on my trailer doorstep out of the blue and he's already closer to Mama than Cunt Face and me? Whatever!
Speaking of, I haven't seen Cunt Face's mug in a few days. I don't know where
Back to what I was saying. So Jacob is all over Mama like a drunken Thai prostitute and I'm pissed. I felt like they were intentionally trying to annoy me the next day when Mama said she was going to a fancy breakfast with Jacob. He was taking her to IHOP and I was not invited.
"Screw pancakes--why don't you two both go to HELL instead?" I said from my recliner, Starla bouncing on my knee.
"Don't be bitter--it makes you look uglier than you already are!" She snapped back, pulling on her heavy coat.
Jacob appeared soon after, all bundled up and ready to go. "Thanks for letting me stay over, Trasha--that was really nice of you."
"Yeah, whatever." I replied, not looking at him. My initial attraction to him had already faded to cool disgust.
When Mama came back later that afternoon, it was only to pack her bags. Apparently, she was leaving to move in with Jacob.
"But you don't know him!" I yelled. "How could you just go off with some stranger?"
She zipped up her suitcase. "Easy--I don't know know you either and frankly, you get on my nerves. See you later, woman."
I watched her thumping her way down the stairs, the suitcase weighing nearly as much--if not more--than she did.
"Well, fuck you then, lady!" I screamed, Starla on my hip. "Forget where this trailer is--you ain't welcome here no more!"
Jacob's eyes caught mine briefly as he helped Mama into the passenger seat of his fancy dark blue Dodge Neon.
"Eat shit and die!" I bellowed as they drove off, out of the the trailer park and hopefully, out of my life forever!
Love,
Trasha
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