THE BLOG OF: TRASHA WHITE

Lead Singer of Local Rock Band Found Dead

2008-05-01T16:55:00.001-07:00

[S. Rockwood, MI] Trasha White, lead singer of a local rock band (whose name is too vulgar for us to print) as well as notorious home abortionist, was found dead yesterday in her single-wide trailer in the city of South Rockwood. Police and paramedics were called to the scene by White's mother (and band mate) when she found her daughter unresponsive in her recliner.

"I tried waking her up - to tell her Judge Judy was on - and she didn't respond. I thought she was just drunk or maybe took a few painkillers, but no - she was dead!" Said Bonnie White, while holding her infant granddaughter Starla, the only surviving child of Trasha White.

Memorial services for White, who had recently been released from the hospital after being in a near-fatal car bombing, will be held at the Memphis Lounge in Warren, Michigan - a tavern that White had frequented when she was living.

"I can't believe she's gone - she was one of a kind," Said a saddened male patron of the Memphis Lounge, who wished to remain nameless. "Her talent went far beyond her singing and she'll be missed."

White's twin brother (whose name is too vulgar for us to print) was unable to be reached for comment regarding his sister's untimely passing. Police do not know whether or not he is a suspect or what the actual cause of death was. Details are forthcoming.

The New Trasha White [Part Two]

2008-04-14T12:57:00.001-07:00

Hey Friends,

After turning the key in my ignition, I heard some strange clicking noises. I didn't think anything of it--hell, this heap of junk I drive is falling apart all the time! A click here or there is nothing to be alarmed over. However, after the fifth time, the engine burst into flames and before I could grab my purse and run out of the door, it exploded. Can you believe that? My fucking car EXPLODED with me IN IT! This was no accident - someone intended to kill me. Now, brushes with death are nothing new to me and I have a laundry list of enemies, but it is still scary as fuck to be trapped inside a burning car and then having it explode on you...well, let's just say I shit my pants before I blacked out.

This is where shit starts to get weird.

I had that whole "life flashing before your eyes" thing and what a depressing movie that turned out to be! Jesus Christ, my life has been SHITTY! Why do I even bother going on when each day is worse than the last? However, I wasn't having a pity party during this "episode" - I was too gobsmacked and that the fact that I was actually experiencing this whole "death" thing.

Well, after the life flashing bit, I saw the "white light". I thought there must have been some mistake since I was certain that Satan had set a special place up in Hell for me. And even though I'd seen so many movies where they say: "DON'T GO INTO THE LIGHT!!!", I threw caution to the wind and decided to GO INTO IT!

This is where shit gets even WEIRDER!

But you'll need to wait for all that...I need to transcribe my tapes from my hospital stay. Needless to say, it was QUITE a journey and left me a woman forever changed.

Stay tuned...

Love,

Trasha

The New Trasha White [Part One]

2008-04-14T12:56:00.000-07:00

Hey Friends,

How I’ve missed you all! So much in my life has changed since I wrote last...to say I got "distracted" after my last post is a gross understatement. I will say that I’M OK - now. I don’t want to worry you all, but I have been in the hospital. I have been home for a couple days and finally have the strength to sit up in my recliner and write to you all. During my stay in the hospital, I recorded my thoughts on a mini tape recorder and will start transcribing everything as I’m able to.

Let me do what I do best: pick up where I last left off. I was as nervous as I’ve ever been on my way to the prison to see Cain. What would he say? How would he react after I told him the things I had been planning to say (all related to that folder of information that Leonard gave to me while I was hiding out in the rehab facility)? I could have just shit my pants, I tells ya!

It took some time, but I made it through the prison to a room set aside for family and friends of inmates. It was kind of like the show Oz, except not as glamorous. I got the creeps as I was escorted through the different areas - it hasn’t been too long since I’ve been out of the joint myself! I did have some flashbacks to my time in the slammer, but before I could brood too much on that, I was waiting for Cain to be summoned. There was no time for reflecting.

I wasn’t there long when Cain was brought out to the table I was sitting at, handcuffed and wearing his orange jumper. He looked older for some reason...very sad. Jail was not easy on him and how could it be? He was used to the finer things in life and there was no question that missed his furs, French Champale and Philly blunts.

"Hello, Cain." I said, feigning strength (as if I was confronting a coked up Pit Bull).

Oddly enough, Cain smiled. "Hi Trasha, baby! Oh, I’m surprised to see you here. You look..." He clocked me from heels to hairdo. "Well."

I laughed. "You are certainly a sight for sore eyes yourself." I looked at the Jail Guard Guy. "You can leave us now."

The Guard gave me a Bitch, are you CRAZY? kind of look. I responded with words:

"I’ll call you if I need you."

He nodded and Cain and I were seated, staring into each other’s eyes from across the table.

"So," He said, breaking the awkward silence that had wrapped itself around us. "why are you here? Really?"

I folded my hands and looked him dead in the eye. "I’m here to call a truce. I’m sick and tired of being scared of you and I’m sick and tired of people telling me I need to testify against you. I’m not going to - I’ve decided that and I wanted to tell you that in person."

The smirk he was sporting on his mug turned into a slight smile. "Have you been drinking that malt liquor again?"

I dismissed his comment with a wave of my hand. "Cain! Of course I have."

"I know all this has been hard on you, Trasha and I would apologize - except for the fact that I think you asked for it...and deserved it. I do have quite an iron fist and you knew that about me before you and me got together. You shouldn’t have been surprised."

I reached for his hand. "And I wasn’t! I wasn’t, Cain, and I didn’t come here to play the blame game or any shit like that. I came here to put the past behind us and move on."

A skeptical look crossed his face, but it soon faded and his hand squeezed mine.

"I never thought of myself as a forgiving man, but being locked up has had an effect on me for sure. I have been thinking a lot...and you were the only bitch I’ve ever really loved. Shonda - I had other plans for her. But you - I truly wanted to be with you, Trasha. You were my girl and that’s why it killed me that you fucked around on me with that motherfucking cop...a god damn cop I thought was my business partner all this time!"

He was squeezing my hand so hard, my knuckles cracked. I pulled away, shaking the pain away.

"Sorry," He said, realizing what he had done.

"It’s OK."

Anyway, we talked for the entire twenty minutes he had allotted for visitors. I found myself actually sad watching him leave the room. I was believing what I had convinced myself of...I’m too good at lying! I didn’t go there truly wanting to put the past behind me - it’s just kind of how things worked out. I didn’t even have to use the info that Leonard had given me. It’s good for a girl to always have something in her back pocket - can I get an "AMEN" my sistas?!

So all’s well that end’s well, right?

WRONG!

I found out just how wrong as I started the engine of my car.

[To be continued...]

Love,

Trasha

A Change of Plans

2008-02-26T14:40:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-02-14T14:35:00.001-08:00

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

Trasha White's Famous Bottle Trick

2008-02-13T21:12:00.000-08:00

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

Broken Baby

2008-02-13T15:45:00.001-08:00

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

Who Needs Brakes?

2008-02-12T19:25:00.000-08:00

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

Changing My Perspective

2008-02-11T22:09:00.000-08:00

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

Down in the Dumps!

2008-02-11T14:31:00.000-08:00

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

Life or Death

2008-02-10T17:21:00.000-08:00

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

Secrets

2008-02-09T19:14:00.000-08:00

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

So Much for Turning My Life Around!

2008-02-09T12:34:00.001-08:00

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

Creating a New Reality

2008-02-08T19:20:00.000-08:00

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

Mama's Back--And So Is Her MEMORY!

2008-02-08T16:27:00.001-08:00

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

Mama's Missing!!!!

2008-02-07T13:03:00.000-08:00

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 a STAR!

2008-02-04T23:11:00.000-08:00

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

Tides are Turning

2008-02-02T23:27:00.000-08:00

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

Good Riddance!

2008-02-02T12:56:00.001-08:00

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 where he 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

Shocking Visitor

2008-01-28T22:01:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Starla and I had nodded off in the recliner when a knock at the trailer door frightened us awake. I had been dreaming of performing at a real concert venue (instead of playing the local VFW on Bingo night...or Fish Fry Fridays) but all that disappeared in a flash when those knuckles hit that faux wood door.

Still a bit on edge from escaping Cain's baby mill/slave camp, I grabbed my gun and hid it in the front pocket of my powder blue hoodie. I stood by the door and without opening it, said forcefully:

"Who goes there?! Who the fuck goes there?"

There was silence. Not to be fucked with, I insisted:

"Tell me who the fuck you are or I'll blow a hole in your head so big you could fist it!"

I heard a quiet and incredibly nervous male voice say: "Is...uh...is Bonnie...I'm...a...I'm looking for Miss Bonnie White."

He sounded young and harmless. I cracked open the door, leaving the chain on. I had to get a good look at this man who was asking for my Mama. He looked to be in his mid-30's, tall--over six foot, broad shouldered, well-dressed in khaki pants and a heavy ski jacket and quite attractive with his dark hair and equally deep, dark eyes. He had a pleasant, thin face and it left me curious as to why someone so assumingly good would want to talk to my foul-mouthed and uber-sassy Mama.

"And who the hell are you?" I softened my tone, and said it in kind of a joking manner.

"I'm...a...my name is Jacob and I...uh...kind of need to speak to her."

"Well, I got bad news for you: Mama lost her memory, so she will have no idea who you are. So, she's not very good company I'm afraid--not that she ever has been! HA!"

"Can I...come in for a moment? I won't stay long, I promise--it's just...well, it's pretty cold out here." His teeth were beginning to chatter. It was pretty fucking cold outside. I stepped aside.

"Welcome. Please come inside my trailer--where did my manners go?"

I helped him off with his jacket. He was wearing a nice sweater underneath.

"Can I get you some refreshments? Water, Faygo, Coors Light?"

He smiled, "Water sounds great, thank you."

I went to the kitchen and got a beer for myself--then put it back when I remembered that I promised not to drink with this pregnancy. I decided to just pour the guy and myself a glass of water--even though water didn't get me drunk.

I handed him a glass. "Here you are--the glass is a collector's item from McDonald's. It was part of their Disney series. See, my glass has Cinderella on it." I stopped myself; I sounded like an idiot. I couldn't help it--he was SO cute! "Anyway, let me go get Mama."

Mama was sitting on her bed, brushing her long hair. Rather than tease it into a frantic mess like usual, she was brushing it long and straight. She looked younger, actually. Funny.

"Mama, some guy is here to see you."

She snorted. "What the hell does that mean? I'm not going to know him from a hole in the wall. What's the use? Tell him to hit the bricks."

I leaned in the doorway. "It's late and it's cold outside. I'll let him warm up a bit before I throw him back on the streets. Plus, he's really cute--and he seems nice. Come out and talk to him. What the hell else do you have going on in your exciting life?"

She shrugged. "You have a point." She then jumped down off the bed and padded out into the living room.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked.

He stood. "I'm...I'm Jacob. Are you Bonnie White?"

She hopped up on the couch and faced him. "I guess so--at least, that's what this one told me." She was motioning to me. "I lost my damn memory, so I don't know shit from shinola. So, I'm afraid to say I will have no idea who you are."

Jacob was so nervous I was on edge. I had to break the tension because it was just irritating.

"Hey, Jacob--what's your deal? You are more fidgety than a bulemic at a bake sale."

He closed his eyes for a moment and then said:

"My father just died. He was a pastor at a Baptist church just outside Lapeer. Well, right before he died, he told me that the woman I grew up believing was my mother was actually not my real mother. She was my step-mother, who adopted me at birth. He said my real mother was his ex-wife, who left him as soon as I was born. I was left behind, Papa raised me. He was a good man, but was haunted by a past he'd never discuss. It turns out his previous marriage was short-lived and chaotic and he was left devestated when his wife left him. Bonnie, that wife was you. And that makes me your son, Jacob."

Mama's eyes fluttered a bit, then rolled back in her head. I was too slow (or too entertained), so I wasn't quick enough to catch her before she hit the ground.

Jacob was fast, though, and swooped her off the ground and laid her back on the couch. He touched her face. "Bonnie!" He called. "Bonnie! Are you OK? Bonnie!"

"Move aside," I told him and pushed him out of the way. I took my glass of water and threw it in Mama's face. She sputtered, sprayed water and then sat up, blinking water out of her eyelashes.

"You bitch!" She spat.

"It woke you up, didn't it?"

She shook her head, dazed. "I'm sorry, Jacob, your news just...hit me...like Ike Turner on a PCP binge."

"She doesn't remember me, but she remembers Ike Turner," I quipped from my recliner. "And his drug problems."

"Shut it, you tramp!" Mama shot back. "Now, Jacob, this is all rather hard to believe. And how do I know you're telling the truth? What if you're trying to get money out of me? What if you're some kind of grifter?"

I laughed. "He's after your collection of bingo dobbers, that must be it."

"I could have riches! How do you know? I could have been shoveling money away all these years."

Jacob, eyes filled with sincerity, said: "No, ma'am, I'm not here for money. I'm no liar and I am no...grifter. I guess when my Papa died, it just left a...a hole in me. And my first reaction was to find you--my mother, my real mother. You see, my step-mom, Judy, well, she and I never saw eye-to-eye. Perhaps it was because she always knew I wasn't hers biologically, but she was distant. And one day, I came home and...well, she was being taken out by the paramedics. She had...killed herself."

Mama gasped.

"So, I'm...kind of an orphan now. Or I was, until Papa told me the truth. Now I realize I'm not alone. I have a mother and she's alive and well."

"Barely," I chimed in.

"Hush yourself!" Mama yelled. "It seems I have one decent, upstanding child on this Earth, which is more than I can say for you or that tranny Cunt Face!"

Jacob's eyes widened, with shock and confusion. "What's a...tranny?"

"Never mind," Mama replied. "Trasha, can Jacob stay? I want him to tell me all about himself. I want to get to know the son I never knew I had."

"You didn't know you had your nipples pierced--of course you didn't know you had a long-lost son!"

Mama glared, but I let her have her way. I invited Jacob to stay. After finding out he is my half-brother, my attraction to him hasn't wavered. I never knew him and he isn't my FULL brother. I mean, it wouldn't be like fucking Cunt Face or something. All we share is DNA and I don't know about him, but I'm up for a roll in the hay. I'd even let him do anal on me!

Love,

Trasha

God Bless DuPont Pharmaceuticals!

2008-01-28T16:55:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

God bless DuPont Pharmaceuticals. It is by their grace that I've been able to cope with this ordeal. But to be fair to this baby I'm carrying, I only took half the dosage I normally gobble. And I washed it down with WATER, not Coors Light. See, I can turn over a new leaf after all! I'm not giving up my cigs for this baby--hell to the NO. I've actually doubled-up on the Virginia Slims to calm my nerves, which are understandably frayed at the moment.

Shonda is gone--she has decided to cooperate with the police and is now in Witness Protection. I told her she could take all the credit for freeing the women trapped in Cain's sex camp, but to PLEASE keep my name out of everything she tells the cops. She said understood--she is afraid, so she gets it. However, it's not fear that is driving my motives, it is the bigger picture that I see, that I ALWAYS see.

In an effort to get back to normal, everyday life, I watched Judge Judy, played Bingo and did some singing. I felt like I was going through the motions, though. My whole life has been turned upside down and only Jesus knows how long it will take me to get back to how I was.

Mama has been providing some much-needed comic relief, though. She was screaming from the bathroom: "I thought I was wearing toe rings and then I realized it was just my tits sagging to the ground! I have pierced nipples?!"

Starla and I had a good laugh over that one. Too bad she was too young to understand what was going on, but when I laughed, she laughed. It would have been nice if Cunt Face was around to join in the fun, but she is off doing her tranny stuff. Those trannies are so self-absorbed.

Ah, Starla and I are fixing to watch Golden Girls. I'll write more later.

Love,

Trasha

I'm Home [Part Five]

2008-01-28T13:00:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I looked around the room we were being held captive for items I could use to exact my revenge and help to free everyone. I noticed an area that had maternity scrubs hanging up on a rack.

Hanging on wire hangers.

The light bulb in my brain went off and I told Shonda of my plan. She thought I was crazier than bat shit, but I asked her again to trust me. She said she did and I put my plan into action.

I found a dark space, out of eyesight of the guards and sat patiently. One by one, Shonda sent a different woman to me. I had to work fast and I had to work unnoticed, so precision was a must. Like the pro I was, I systematically aborted every pregnant woman. I used an empty bucket to hold the fetus' and once I was done, I motioned to Shonda.

"I need you to cause a commotion so that the guards come near me, but not so they can see me. Got it?"

She nodded and then sprang to action. She doubled-over, grabbing her stomach and started wailing.

"I'm losing the baby! I'm losing the baby!"

Sure enough, guards rushed over to her, in a frenzy. They grabbed her arms and tried to carry her away but she went limp and heavy, anchoring them to that very spot.

I shouted: "Hey, fuck faces!" They turned, looked at me (hiding in the shadows) and then collectively they charged toward me.

I lifted the bucket o' babies and threw the lot of it right into their faces. They were clawing at their eyes and began flinging off the placenta, blood and body parts they were covered in. During the may lay, Shonda grabbed a ring of keys from a distracted guard.

I had already manipulated a wire hanger into a set of pseudo claws and began slashing at the guards, aiming for the eyes like my Mama taught me. I took them all on and one by one and watched as they fell to their knees, screaming.

Shonda was rounding up the women and had opened one of the emergency exits. Fresh cold winter air streamed in and en mass, we ran away from what turned out to be an abandoned factory.

I knew there were women still inside, in the "rape ward", but the authorities would later save them. We ran until our legs nearly gave out. We approached a highway, where a trucker pulled to the side of the road to help the stream of women, bleeding from the crotch, dressed in hospital clothes.

The trucker, who turned out to be a regular of mine, radioed the Canadian police, who arrived in no time. A caravan of ambulances were next and the women were loaded into them and brought to the hospital. Only Shonda and myself decided not to go. We wanted to see the other women freed. And they were.

"What about you, Trasha?" Shonda asked me. "Why didn't you abort your own baby?"

I touched my womb. "Well, Shonda. I have learned over the many, many years I've been on this planet that a women needs to hold on to any bargaining chip they have and this baby I'm carrying...well, let's just say I think it's one of the best investments my pussy could have made."

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.

"Oh, Shonda--a woman needs to hold her cards close to the vest. You'll find out, in time."

And so we traveled back to Michigan and I told Shonda she could stay with us again. She needed a place to stay and after everything we had just been through, how could I say no? She saved those women just as much as I did. We were sisters now.

So here I am, back in my trailer, trying to regain the energy I lost. Cunt Face, Mama and Starla were all so happy to see me and as we speak, Starla is sitting on my lap. I can't help but hate myself for selling her on the black market and now I see that she had gone through the same baby mill I was held captive at. To think of Starla in that place just kills me.

But I can't think of that now. The trouble in my life is far from over. This is just the beginning and I pray we all make it out of this nightmare alive and well.

Love,

Trasha

I'm Home [Part Four]

2008-01-28T10:51:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Shonda and I were woken by the guards early the next morning. They sprayed us down with freezing cold water from a hose and once we were sitting up, alert and soaked to the bone, they threw two pregnancy tests at us.

"Good luck," Joked one of the guards and then he and the rest moved down the line to the next cell.

We sat in our cots, shivering. Me, from the cold, but Shonda seemed to be quaking with fear. We looked at the pregnancy tests lying on the ground then looked at each other.

"What are we gonna do, Trasha? What if they come back negative?! I don't want to get raped again--I can't! I'll kill myself first!"

Her eyes were blazing--I knew she was serious. I picked up the tests and told her my scheme:

"Listen, this womb of mine is with child, I just know it. I will take both of the tests for us so we can get the hell out of here. Keep watch!"

I squatted over the 10 gallon bucket we were forced to use as a toilet and peed on both tests. I quickly handed one to Shonda, pulled up my pants and sat back down on my cot.

A few minutes later, a guard came to collect the tests. We each handed ours to him through the bars and he looked down at them then back at us. Seconds later, he grabbed his key ring and opened our door. We were pulled out, forcefully and then he yelled:

"We got a couple of Cows here! Come on, ladies, it's time for you to join the rest of the herd."

We were pushed out of the main jail area and lead down a darkly-lit corridor. When I was able to hear the sound of babies crying, I knew we were close to our destination.

Shonda's promises of a nicer area for the mothers and mothers-to-be were false: it was the same kind of squalor we just left, except there were babies! There were women everywhere--at least twenty--in various stages of pregnancy, but they all had infants at their breast, in their arms or nearby. Cain was running a full-fledged baby factory and we were the newest additions to the crew.

A guard shoved a newborn into my arms: "Here!" He yelled. "Feed it!" I was also given a bottle with murky formula. Shonda was also given a baby and a bottle and were found folding chairs where we could sit and feed the children.

"What now?" Shonda whispered, looking at her infant, trying to remain inconspicuous.

"We wait," I answered, in a quiet voice. "I will think of something, I promise."

It was a promise I prayed I could keep. I did everything in my power to stave off the fear that I'd never leave this place alive. After all, this prison or slave camp or whatever it was was being run by men and men were stupid. Women were by far more cunning and evil and I knew it would take a woman to free the rest.

And I was that woman. I just knew it.

[To Be continued...]

Love,

Trasha

I'm Home [Part Three]

2008-01-26T21:05:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Once Shonda and I were alone in her cell and assured that we weren't being spied on by Cain's guards, she began to tell me exactly why all of us women were being held captive there.

"Cain has some business in the black market," Shonda said, quietly. "It's more than drugs--that's just one small part of what he's into. But what he's doing here...with us..." She swallowed hard, as if holding back vomit. "...is making us...have babies for him."

I was confused. "Have babies? Why would he want that?"

"He sells them, Trasha. He sells them on the black market. There is a whole group of them--it's not just Cain. This is bigger than him, there is someone above him running the show. And it's been going on for years...we're both just new to getting caught up in it. He already sold Mar-kay."

I gasped--this shit was no joke.

"Every day," She continued. "we are given pregnancy tests. If you test positive, you are brought to a different part of the building. If you test negative, you are kept here and one of Cain's thugs rapes you so they can impregnate you. I've tested negative every day I've been here and I just can't take another one of Cain's henchmen raping me again! That's why I risked calling you. I know you, if anyone, can stop this."

"Have they done the tests yet today?" I asked, nervous. Perhaps I had already been tested, since I was freshly raped.

She nodded. "Yes...and I've already been raped. That's what they do--they test us, rape us and make us take a shower and then come back here. We'll be tested again tomorrow and I pray to God my test is positive. That will at least get me out of here and with the other Cows."

"Cows? Is that what the pregnant women are called?"

"Yes. The Cows have it much better--lots of food and rest and relaxation. And once the babies start being born, they help nurse and raise them, together. When the babies are old enough, they're taken and sold."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt my womb...I could very well be pregnant; I'm as fertile as the day is long. Plus, I've been having unprotected sex with Cain. It was all making sense now--the rubbers weren't really "too tight" like he said: it was his intention to get me pregnant!

"Well, there's nothing we can do until tomorrow. We should get some sleep. I have a feeling things will work out--just call it women's intuition."

I rubbed my belly and prayed that a fetus was growing within it. I don't think I ever wanted to be with child--ever. I normally cursed my fertile cunt, but now I'm hoping that years of abuse haven't worn it out. I was counting on my pussy and I just knew it wouldn't let me down.

[To Be Continued...]

Love,

Trasha

I'm Home [Part Two]

2008-01-26T14:01:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

When I woke up, I was in a completely dark room. There was the smell of moisture, like I was underground or in a basement of some kind. I heard dripping water and the concrete was so cold--and the room was so cold--that my body was numb. I felt my legs--they were bare. My dress had been torn so I was left naked except for a swatch of fabric over my breasts. I felt my feet--my heels were still on, but one of the heels had broken off. I touched my face--it was freshly bruised and my left eye had closed again. I had been beaten again.

The pain in my crotch told me I'd be raped as well. God, I wished for some clothes and some heat...it was horrible.

Thankfully, it didn't last too long. The door opened and a man came in and pulled me to my feet. I was dragged, stumbling, into a warm, bright hallway. The man was wearing a ski mask, so I couldn't tell what he looked like. He was dressed all in black and was tall and muscular. His hands were huge, leather-clad and tightly gripping my arm.

I was thrown into a shower, a huge room with about thirty other women. I looked around through the steam and realized that every one of these women was connected to Cain somehow. They'd all fallen for the charm and had probably all been sucked in by the power and the money. He sure knew how to sweet a gal off her feet, but look where it had gotten all of us. We were being held captive and only God knows what plans he had for us.

I felt I would find out soon enough.

I showered and as I was rinsing my hair, the water stopped and the door opened. We were herded into a locker room, given towels and a fresh change of clothes. They were like hospital scrubs, cheap material and they were all green. Once dressed, we were herded again into what looked like a cell block in a prison. There were at least 100 cells on three levels and a common area in the middle of the ground floor. We were locked inside and there were several men in black stationed at different points, watching us.

It was while I was looking around, confused, that Shonda found me. She screamed and hugged me. "Trasha, you're here! You came for us--you came to save us!"

I pushed her off. "Enough! God, get off me. What the hell is going on here--what are we up against?"

She looked around, frightened. "Let's go back to my cell and talk. We can't risk them overhearing."

[To Be Continued]

Love,

Trasha

I'm Home [Part One]

2008-01-26T11:49:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I'm home, sitting in the recliner I never thought I'd sit my fat ass in again. I'm typing on the WebTV I was certain would just be a sweet memory and am sipping a Coors Light, which after all I've been through, tastes like the nectar of the gods.

I'm battered, I'm bruised, I'm barely alive--but I'm home. You won't believe everything I have to tell you.

I know, I know--get to the point, Trasha! HA! I'm still trying to sort my mind out and make sure I don't skip over anything. I need to pick up where I left off last time, that's always the best way. OK, here we go:

As I walked through the doors of Cain's club, I prayed my legs wouldn't give out. I was nearly crippled with fear, but I couldn't let that be known to anyone, so I pulled myself together and walked like the sex goddess I was. With strength and with purpose, I walked right by to Leonard, who was sitting at the bar, having a cocktail.

"Well, hello hot stuff." I said, sitting down next to him. The bartender came right up to me and I gave him my drink order: "Grey Goose martini, extra dirty please."

Leonard turned to me and smiled. "Extra dirty is right, darling. I wasn't expecting to see you around here again."

I laughed, coolly. "Oh, and why not? I'm not afraid of Cain--I do what I want. And I wanted to see if you'd like to go for another ride on the Trasha White Pussy Express."

I crossed my legs so that the slit in my dress would briefly expose my freshly shaved snatch. Leonard was licking his lips, enjoying the peep show.

"You certainly are a brave gal, I have to admit. Cain is right over there--he will see us. You want to cause trouble for me?"

I knew a man was powerless to pussy, no matter the possible danger. I batted my eyelashes at him, licked my lips and slowly sucked on my finger. Leonard fidgeted--I was getting to him.

He cleared his throat nervously. "OK, but we have to be discreet about it. I'll go to the back now. Finish your drink then come to my office. But don't let Cain see you!"

I smiled. "Now, why would I want that?"

Little did Leonard know, but moments later when I walked toward the back, I made sure that I caught Cain's eye. I looked at him and grinned and kept walking to the back. His eyes widened with rage, but he sat still, watching me.

I knocked on Leonard's door and knew we had to get right to business as everything had to be timed perfectly. I threw myself into his arms the moment the door opened and torn at his pants.

"You're a tiger!" He said, delighted. "Don't rip my cock off!"

"Oh, no baby--I'll be good to that meat stick. Give me what I need, Daddy--plug my pussy up with your huge COCK!"

I pulled my dress up and let Leonard dive into my waters. He plunged deep into me, with lusty force. He had pumped me good and hard for a few minutes when Cain burst in.

"You fucking WHORE! I knew you were too stupid for your own good." Cain looked at Leonard, who was still thrusting into my cunt. "And you--what the fuck are you doing? Get your dick out of her!"

He pulled Leonard off of me and grabbed me with one hand around the throat. I could see a big hulking black man standing behind him with a white cloth in one hand.

"Take her!" Cain said, throwing me to him. When the cloth was put over my face, a strange smell made me light headed and then soon, unconscious.

[To Be Continued...]

Love,

Trasha

Into the Lion's Den

2008-01-24T22:02:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I may not be around for a while. God, I don't know why I suddenly feel like I'm writing my own eulogy. But these may be the last words I ever write/ever speak. I'm about to do something that may get me killed or may just save the lives of countless women. Many people's future's are in the palm of my hand and I'm terrified that I could turn them all into sacrificial lambs if I make the wrong move.

I have made sure Starla has a clean diaper and a full bottle and put her in her play pen. She looked up at me, like she was reading my mind and aware of the crazy plan I had concocted. I told her, in my head: "Look kid, you're all right. I kinda dig you and I'll make sure you are OK. Oh, and, I'm glad I didn't miscarry when I was pregnant with you."

I looked in the mirror. I was wearing heavy makeup and my eye had healed enough that I looked like my normal FLAWLESS self. I tell you, Wet 'N Wild is a godsend! I was wearing my most beautiful outfit--a long, strapless pink sequin dress with a slit up the side, a pair of 6 inch white heels and a floor length white mink coat. My normally long jet black hair was pulled back and up, a mass of curls like a crown.

I wet my lips; I was gorgeous.

Now I must go and do what I have to do. Here is my plan: I will show up at Cain's club and throw myself at Leonard, in front of him--so that not only he sees me, but so that the other girls see me, too. He'll feel like I made a fool out of him and outright defied him by showing up to the club anyway. Then, I should hopefully find myself in the same place Shonda is being held and then I can save her. And save the rest of the women being held captive.

This is the craziest thing I have ever done--and trust me, I've done some crazy ass shit. But what I think is the craziest part of all of this is that I'm not doing any of this for me. I'm getting no bonus for this, no payback. What am I getting, gratitude? You can't buy Coors Light with "thanks", trust me I tried (and ended up in jail for shoplifting as a result).

That's when Starla caught my eye and she seemed to say: "Yo, Lady. I'm proud of you. You aren't a heartless bitch after all."

We shall see whether or not that is true after I step foot into Cain's club tonight. We shall see whether or not I make it out of the lion's den.

Love,

Trasha

Choices [Part Two]

2008-01-24T13:47:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I didn't sleep last night. I could blame the meth that Cunt Face cooked up for me, but I know it's more than that. It was Shonda's phone call that kept running through my head. Why am I always burdened by other people's problems? And why the FUCK do I feel so obligated to help fix them?

What can I say: I'm a giver.

And how funny that I'm yet again put in this predicament and I have Shonda to thank for it all. I'm starting to regret ever talking to her that day in the welfare office. I should have just gotten my food stamps, my powdered milk and cheese and gone on with my life. But no, I had to be Chatty Cathy and now I could be killed because of it all!

Lord, do I have a big mouth.

But I do have to help her--and the other women that are being held captive for Cain's evil plans, whatever they may be. What kind of lion's den was I willingly putting myself into? What could possibly await me in Cain's slave camp? And what would I need to do to make sure I was sent there?

I confided in Cunt Face, since she's been there every step of the way. She was horrified by the tale but agreed that if anyone could fix this mess, it was me. What am I--a fucking super hero?! All I know how to do is sing, write hit songs, turn tricks and give home abortions. I don't know how to SAVE lives! I only know how to take them!

So I've got quite a job to do and limited time to do it. I have to scheme a way to push Cain over the edge, which shouldn't be too hard since I'm naturally good at it (and I have the black eye to prove it!)

Wish me luck!

Love,

Trasha

Choices [Part One]

2008-01-23T22:16:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Something unspeakable has happened. I just received a phone call that shook me to my core, left me breathless and changed my very life.

I was putting rollers in my hair, which is desperately in need of some body, when my phone rang. Thinking it was Cain or perhaps maybe a reporter calling for an interview (hardee har har), I picked it up. Normally, I wouldn't answer, but hey, I was feeling social.

"This is Trasha," I said.

"Trasha! Trasha, thank God you're home. I need your help--you've got to help me!"

"Who the hell is this?" I asked. I didn't have time to play games!

"It's me, Shonda. Listen, Cain kidnapped me and is keeping me and a bunch of other girls in a building in Canada. He's doing...horrible things to us and I can't even tell you on the phone--I don't have time. He'll kill me if he knew I was able to call you. Anyway, you're the only person I could think of to call. You have to help me; you have to help us!"

"Shonda, you crazy bitch. Stop playing on my damn phone." I had no time for pranks! I had things to do--roll my hair, smoke a cigarette, watch Judge Judy, you know--important shit!

"Trasha, please! I'm not joking. You're the only person that can help us!"

"How am I supposed to help you? You think he's going to tell me where you are and just let you go because I say so?"

"No, I know he won't go for that. You need to somehow be brought here. He only sends girls here who have fucked him over. And then he makes them...oh, God--I can't even SAY it!"

"So you're saying I need to fuck Cain over so badly that he sends me to this slave camp that he has for all the bitches who have done him wrong? You know how insane all this sounds? For all I know, you're just jealous of me and him and you're trying to get me killed! Or at least get him to dump me so he'll take your sorry ass back!"

I heard commotion on the other end of the line. I heard several voices, male and angry. I heard the phone being ripped away from Shonda and she was whimpering, begging:

"Please, no! Don't!"

Click.

This was no fucking joke--Shonda was in deep, deep trouble and I was well on my way to joining her. It wouldn't take much at this point to put Cain over the edge and before I knew it, I could be staring Shonda right in the face.

Or he could just break his habit and kill me. Who knows? Either way, I'm scared and need advice on what I should do!!!

Love,

Trasha

Glam Pirate!

2008-01-23T13:38:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I can see a little out of my left eye today, but to make me feel less ugly, Cunt Face made a cute little eye patch for me. It's pink and has rhinestones glued on it. Sure, it's a bit tacky, but there is only so much you can do with an eye patch. I look like a semi-glamorous pirate now and with ample amounts of concealer and foundation, I look presentable.

I decided to match my eye patch to the rest of my outfit, so I put on a pink bedazzled sweater dress, white leggings and some hot pink pumps. I did my hair so that it kind of fell over the left side of my face and when I'm wearing my big black sunglasses (because I need to look HOLLYWOOD), you would never know that I had just gotten my ass beat as bad as I did.

Cain did finally call me back. He was apologetic, but still firm in his belief that he did the right thing. I apologized again for cheating on him and he said he would only authorize me fucking other men if he arranged it and it was a true trick, not just fun. I told him Leonard gave me $400 in cash and that I considered it just business; my heart was still with him. He said he would forgive me--in time. It was the best news I could have gotten!!!

He did say I couldn't work at the club anymore nor show my face there again. He said he needed to send a strong message to me and to his crew of performers and I told him I respected his decision. I am a true performer, but felt that mixing my music with stripping was spreading myself too thin.

So here is the deal: I'm now a full-time Call Girl. Cain will arrange all my "dates" and I will do what they ask. He will get the money in advance but all tips were mine to keep (whether that be cash or drugs or whatever). I told him that was fair and I liked the idea of him being my manager.

I report to work as a Call Girl the moment I heal up. He said to consider this recuperation time my paid vacation and that he'd send his driver over with cash for me.

So I will embark on a new career (Call Girl is so much classier than "hooker" or "lot lizard") and I still have my man! Maybe things aren't so grim after all, you know? I felt so good that I even got my NAILS DID! They are--you guessed it--PINK with glitter!

Love,

Trasha

He Hit Me--And It Felt Like a Kiss

2008-01-22T15:53:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

The swelling in my face has gone down, but the bruises on my heart will never heal. I truly truly fucked up and I take full responsibility for my actions. I can't say I blame Cain for using me as his personal punching bag, but just wish he would have stayed away from the money-maker: my face! I hope there is no permanent damage since Cunt Face and I plan on doing some photo shoots soon. I guess they will be postponed.

I've called him and called him since he left, but he keeps rejecting my calls (I know he's rejecting them since it will only ring a couple times then magically go to voice mail--I know it takes more rings than THAT). I leave long messages--I even tried to sing a bit of a song I wrote for him, but my lips are so busted, I sounded like a retard!

When Cunt Face and Mama came back, they were stunned by the vision before them. Normally, people are stunned because I'm so BEAUTIFUL, now it's because I look so HIDEOUS.

"What.the.fuck.happened?!" Said a horrified Cunt Face.

"Cain did it." I managed to say.

"I told you about those blacks, Cunt Face. Can't trust nary a one of 'em! They always like to beat up women--and drink malt liquor! I never did get that: it tastes like piss!"

We both at Mama, slack jawed. She was acting more like her old racist self again! This was a good sign: Mama was coming home.

But the focus went right back to yours truly. Cunt Face ran to the fridge and found a steak (how the hell did that get in there?) and put the raw meat on my left eye.

"I feel like a pirate!" I cried.

"It'll heal, it'll heal. I've had worse and look at this gorgeous mug! You'd never know it. Just give it time." She was dabbing a cold cloth on my face as well, to soak up some of the dried up blood.

I tried for a long time to fully explain the situation. By the time I was through, Starla started wailing her guts out from the bedroom.

"Cunt Face, will you feed and change her please? I don't want her to see me looking like this...looking like a MONSTER!"

She nodded and went to take care of the baby. That left Mama and I alone.

"So, he did a real number on ya, didn't he?" She said, taking a sip of her Coors Light.

"It's a simple misunderstanding, that's all." I tried to explain, but Mama was busting up laughing.

"You stupid bitch!" She howled. "A bitch as dumb as you deserves to get whomped on. I assure you if that man had laid an unwelcome hand on me, he would have pulled back a bloody stump."

I shrugged. I guess I was just used to being treated like dog shit when it came to the menz. Why do I settle for less? I know I'm a beautiful, talented, powerful woman, so why am I so weak in the love department?

I'm reminded of that song with the line: "He hit me and it felt like a kiss." I totally get it now. It's pretty sad when you'll take a kiss or a punch just the same--as long as you're being touched, what's the difference?

Love,

Trasha

Dead Woman Walking

2008-01-22T12:24:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I'm in trouble. Big trouble and I don't know what to do or where to turn. I got myself into this mess and I need to figure a way OUT of it. If only it were as easy as that.

Cain's home and he knows about me fucking Leonard last night. Apparently, this is a little trick Leonard pulls on all of Cain's girlfriends. He likes to test the waters and see if they are loyal or not. Well, I failed the test and Cain let me know--in person--how disappointed he was in me.

When the knock came at my trailer door, I wasn't expecting it to be Cain. I also wasn't expecting to be punched directly in the face, which is exactly what Cain did the moment I opened the door and said: "Who the hell goes there?!"

I fell backward, clutching my nose. Blood was already pouring from it; Cain sure knew where to land his fist!

"What the..." I stammered.

Cain marched in and walked over my body. "Shut up, bitch!" He bellowed. "Get up off that floor and close the damn door. We got some things to discuss, you and me."

He pounded through the trailer, looking for signs of anyone else. Mama and Cunt Face were out shopping and so it was just me and Starla. He didn't notice her in her crib (which I moved to my bedroom--THANK GOD). Thankfully, Starla kept her mouth shut. What a smart baby!

I was still trying to pull myself up when he came back into the living room. He really knocked me for a loop and my head was really dazed.

"I said GET UP BITCH!" He screamed and pulled me to my feet by my hair.

"Cain, wait, please, don't hurt me anymore!" I pleaded, but his backhand landed on my face just the same.

"I told you girl, we be cool as long as you respect me. Was fucking my business partner your way of showing me respect and loyalty? Was it? WAS IT BITCH?!"

He didn't even give me the chance to respond. Punches rained down on me and I did what came naturally. I switched off and in my head, pulled myself into the safe place I established as a child, whenever my daddy would wail on me. It's this neat little trick that allows me to be OK, no matter what is happening to my body. If I'm turning tricks and things go sour, I switch off. I'm not much of a fighter by any means and normally rely on Cunt Face for brute force.

I switched myself back on once the beatings stopped. My living room wall has three mirrors on it, behind the sofa, so I was able to see myself as I got to my feet. I was a bloodied mess, my face was puffy and my left eye was already starting to swell shut. I heard water running in the kitchen and saw Cain washing my blood from his hands.

"I had to do it, Trasha. I just had to. You've been warned and you defied me. I leave town for a few days and you run wild on me like that? I don't think so."

I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my lips were too swollen to really form sentences. I collapsed into my recliner and fumbled with my bottle of Percocets.

I will take the pain away, I will take the pain away...

I managed to get two pills in my mouth and dry-swallowed them. I wasn't about to try and get a glass of water or a beer from the fridge.

When Cain was finished cleaning up, he grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me to my feet again. He dragged me over to the mirror and said:

"See that face? SEE IT? That ain't shit."

He then pulled down my sweat pants and rammed his hard cock into me. As he pumped and pumped, he called me names.

"Whore!
Slut!
Bitch!
Dead bitch!
You are a dead fucking BITCH!"

When he came, without a condom might I add, he buttoned his pants, spit on me and then left without a word.

Thanks to the Percocets, I'm able to tell this tale. My face is pretty swollen and numb and I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared everyone...I'm afraid that Cain will make good on his threat to kill me.

I'm a dead woman walking.

Love,

Trasha

I Have Sexual Tourette's

2008-01-21T22:10:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I had an interesting night, to say the least. It started shortly after we arrived home from visiting Jackson Trailer Park. I gathered my costumes, called Cain's driver and left for the club, where I would perform my number for the very first time. I am a star and all, but I will admit: I'm not used to playing this kind of crowd. My crowd is more pork rinds and Pabst Blue Ribbon, not Scotch and soda sippers. They had higher expectations! I really had to pull out all the stops or I'd end up looking like a big fool.

Rehearsal was flawless. I felt totally in control of my body and my voice and had all my choreography down pat. I was to make bold movements, tearing off pieces of my costume along the way until I was left in nothing more than pasties and heels.

I was ready.

I sat backstage before my number, pumped up and more glamorous than ever before when I noticed a few of the performers whispering and looking my way. Of course, my first thought was: jealousy, but I soon realized they were talking about something a little deeper than my talent.

Darla came to the makeup table and touched up her face. She shot a nervous look at me then back to the mirror. Something was not right--I could feel it.

"What's up, Darla?" I asked.

She didn't answer me, but tried with a shaky hand to apply a fresh coat of lipstick.

"Hey," I said, more firmly. "What's your damn problem?"

She looked at me, fear in her eyes. "Remember what I said yesterday? Forget it, OK. I don't know what I was talking about."

This girl was just too paranoid for me, but I soon found out what her deal was. Toni pulled me aside on my way back from the shitter.

"Trasha, listen. You can't tell Cain what Darla said yesterday, how she was warning you about that kind of shit. Please, just forget you heard anything and don't breathe a word of it, OK?"

"What the fuck is going on? You two are acting like nut cases! Why are you so afraid of Cain?"

Though I knew the answer, so why I bothered to ask is beyond me. Really, where was I getting off judging them? I knew very well what he was capable of, but I guess I just didn't want to believe what Toni was fixing to tell me.

"Trasha," Said Toni, holding me by the shoulders, tears in her eyes. "Trasha, Shonda is missing and she was Cain's girlfriend before you. She worked here, she was my friend. Something happened between them and now she's gone and no one has any idea where she is."

Shit. I didn't know exactly where Shonda was myself, but I knew something happened to her and Cain was behind it. I felt like my guilt was written across my face and that Toni would notice it right away.

"Well," I lied. "Maybe she just...left town?"

"But it's not just her, Trasha. It's happened to other girls Cain has been with. It's like, they just keep disappearing around him. And most of the girls here come and go so quickly, they don't notice. But there are a couple of us with our eyes open and I don't want the same thing to happen to you!"

"I can take care of myself, honey, so no need to worry about me. But your concern is precious: never lose that. I have a show to do, so if you'll excuse me, I have a crowd to dazzle."

She grabbed my arm. "Say nothing about this conversation or I'm dead. Darla, too."

I tore my arm away. "You're such a drama queen! Both of you! I'll keep my trap shut, just chill out. It's suffocating."

And with that, I left and danced my tits off.

* * * * *

After my performance, I was a sweaty mess. As I walked off stage and into the dressing room, I was given a towel to wipe myself. I was standing there with only some pasties, a pair of 6-inch heels and a layer of honey on my body. I dabbed my face when a man approached me.

"You were sensational. What is your name?"

He was a pretty hot older white dude, the kind I eat for breakfast and puke back up again for desert. The perfect John: respectful, classy and vanilla--you're in, you're out. Sometimes, you just talk and they pay you double.

"I'm Trasha. Trasha White." I said, extending my hand. "It's nice to make your acquaintance. And you are?"

"Hi Trasha, I'm Leonard. I've never seen you before--was that your first time performing here?"

"Yes, it certainly was. I normally don't take my clothes off while I'm singing--it's kind of one thing or the other with me. This was my first time combing the two and I think it came off pretty good."

"Well, it's certainly a catch tune. "Fist my pussy...fist my pussy, bitch!" It's great! And the honey-filled kiddie pool was a great touch."

I wiped a tiny bit of honey from my cunt and put it to Leonard's lips. "I love honey." I was flirting, yes, I know, but what else do you expect me to do? Get real!

"Mmmm..." He said licking my finger. "May I...taste your lips?"

"Only if you mean my pussy lips."

He nodded, lustfully.

"I want you to eat my pussy and then beat the ever-loving hell out of it with your huge cock!"

I threw my leg up and stabbed my heel into the door frame, giving him full VIP access to the party in my crotch.

* * * * *

After he handed me four hundred dollar bills and left, I felt like I had really accomplished something. In terms of trick-turning, that was both an enjoyable experience and a financially rewarding one. I felt like a fat Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and Leonard was my Richard Gere. But then it hit me: I just cheated on Cain.

I just cheated on Cain. I wasn't supposed to do that kind of stuff, but when you're caught up in the moment, you're caught up in the moment, right? And what was Leonard doing back stage anyway? I mean, if I wasn't supposed to get my connie pounded, why were men allowed near the dressing room? Part of me thinks Cain was just asking for it by having these lax policies.

But then it hit me again. I just fucked up, majorly. I cheated on Cain, my boyfriend, the new found love of my life. How could I do something like that to him? Was this self-sabotage? Did I not feel capable of true love?

And then it hit me in a different way. This man will kill me if he finds out. But would he find out? I mean, Leonard was just some random guy that came backstage, right?

As I was leaving, I got my answer. I was putting my fur coat on, getting ready to hop into Cain's limo when Toni pointed Leonard out to me and said. "Have you met Leonard yet?"

I let out a short laugh. "Have I ever. Does he come here a lot?"

She gave me a strange look. "Uh, yeah--he owns the place. He's Cain's business partner, didn't you know?"

I could have shit my pants. What the hell am I going to do????

Love,

Trasha

Warning [Part Two]

2008-01-21T10:41:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

Mama was just standing at the door of her trailer, frozen. From fear, from shock, I couldn't tell.

"See you later!" I yelled from the car. "We're leaving you--forever!"

I told Cunt Face to pretend to back out. The trick worked--Mama turned to us and started waving her arms.

"STOP! STOP! Don't go! Don't leave me here!" She screamed.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, nonchalantly.

"Come here!" She screamed, waving us inside. "Bring the Cunt one, too. I think I'm remembering!"

Cunt Face and I met Mama at the door of the trailer and looked in with her. I tried to see the trailer from her point-of-view: as if I'd never seen it before.

She pointed to the bedroom door, down the hallway.

"I see fat people!" She whispered. "I see a big, huge, fat man. And I see myself scrubbing him. Did I take care of the obese? Was I a nurse?"

"No, Mama, you weren't a nurse--you were just a woman in love."

"With an obese man? Do I have a fat fetish? What the hell is wrong with me?"

So we sat down and I told her the story. Her eyes were wide with horror when I was done.

"I stole your husband? Trasha, what kind of mother am I? I'm so sorry! I promise I'll never steal another man from you as long as I live. And you can have that baby--I don't want her back. She's yours and she should be with you. I've taken enough from you as it is."

"Well, let's not get hasty. Starla really digs you and I think you two are great together. You keep her."

"No, no, I insist--a daughter belongs with her mother."

"That's a really antiquated way of thinking. There are all kinds of new families these days--single-parent, blended, all that jazz. She's yours. Keep her."

This went back and forth for a while before Cunt Face butted in.

"Enough!" She yelled. "Let's not get into this now. Mama, you still don't have your memory back and once you are in your right mind again, then we'll discuss what happens with Starla. Now, do you have any other memories? Anything at all?"

She closed her eyes. "Yes, I think so...but it's way too weird, I may not be remembering or seeing it clearly."

"If it's weird, you probably are remembering correctly." I replied.

"Shhh!" Said Cunt Face, slapping my arm. "Let her concentrate!"

Mama looked like she was in a deep trance. I could just picture a rush of images flashing before her mind's eye.

"I see...I see...a...donkey?"

I clapped my hands together. "YES! What else? What else?"

"I see...an audience and a donkey and I see myself, in a backstage-like area, looking at myself in the mirror. I've got on a whore-ish outfit, sequins. Is it a circus? I can't tell. Was I in the circus?" She said, opening her eyes finally.

"Not quite," I answered, trying to hold back laughter.

"Close your eyes, Mama, go back there. What else do you see?"

Mama closed her eyes and bit down on her lip. "I see myself...going out into the arena and the applause--the applause was wild. They were there to see ME. They LOVED me. They were throwing money into the arena--they were throwing MONEY at me! I see myself going up to the donkey and...wait a minute...what is this...I..." Her eyes snapped open. "Oh dear God, what did I do to that donkey?!"

I was full-on guffawing now. "DONKEY SHOW! You were doing a donkey show. Before you had us, you toured Mexico with the donkey shows. You were a star--no one could handle a donkey like you. Well, that is, until I came along."

Mama put her head in her hands. "Oh, this is terrible! My life has been one big sin-fest! I'm a disgusting person..."

"Is that enough for now Mama? Should we leave?" Said Cunt Face.

Mama nodded. "Let's go. This is just too sick; I can't take anymore."

And we left and Mama went right back into her room when we arrived at my trailer. I can imagine how overwhelmed she must feel, having those memories rush back to her like that. I wonder how she'll take the rest of them.

Time for a drink!

Love,

Trasha

Warning [Part One]

2008-01-20T17:25:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

Thankfully, I was saved from Mama by a phone call from Cain. She had been locked in her room all day and came out only to go to the shitter or get something to eat and drink. Oh, yeah and cuss me out while doing all three. So when the phone rang, I was excited. And when it turned out to be Cain on the other end, I was beyond thrilled.

"Darling, are you home?" I asked. "I've missed you so much."

"Nah, baby, I ain't home yet--but I'm coming back real soon. Hey, look here--one of my girls left the club, so there is a vacant slot filled in our nightly revue. I'd hate to shorten the show, so what do you say you do that number you've been working on?"

"You mean, you want me to perform? When?"

"Tomorrow night. I want you to go to the club now, while it's early, and rehearse with the other girls. They'll take good care of you--they know better than not to."

This is exactly what I needed: a reason to stay out of the house and away from Mama.

"You got it!" I shrieked. I'll get all my stuff together and go down there now. I've been working really hard on it and know that I'll knock them dead. I do wish you could be there to see my big debut."

"I'll be there in spirit, baby. I'll see you soon, I promise."

Not soon enough, I thought as I hung up the phone. My pussy was throbbing, in need of some thick, hard man meat. It needed a beating and Cain had the cock to do it.

* * * * *

I arrived at the club like a star, via Cain's limo and personal escort to the backstage. There were several girls in various stage of undress and dress. I was ushered to an empty makeup table and shown where all the supplies were. I set down shortly thereafter, under harsh lights and began painting my face and doing my hair.

"Hi, I'm Toni," Said a young black girl to my right. "Are you Cain's new girl?"

"Yes, I am," I said, outlining my lips in the mirror.

"You're lucky. He treats his girls real good."

"Until they piss him off," Chimed in another black girl, who was securing a bra.

"Darla, shut up!" Snapped Toni.

"Girl, you know I speak my mind," Darla said, rolling nylons over her feet. "Watch out girl, if you know what's good for you." She was speaking to me now.

"Thanks for the advice," I said, brushing out some curls I had just put in with an iron.

"What's your name, by the way?" Asked Toni, in a sweet, friendly voice.

"Trasha. Trasha White. And I'm not only Cain's girlfriend, I'm also the lead singer of The Cunty Bitches. Ladies--I am a star."

"Oh, The Cunty Bitches. Sounds great." Darla said, stepping into a crystal encrusted g-string. I got the distinct impression she was mocking me!

* * * * *

Dress rehearsal went well, despite a few problems. I had to stop the song many times though because the sound man just couldn't get the mix right.

"You're ruining my song!" I screamed, stamping a high-heel clad foot. "Now take it from the top--and correctly this time!"

I nailed it, if I do say so myself. I was itching to show the patrons a thing or two--as well as set the bar for the other performers.

Cunt Face arrived to the club as I was changing back into my street clothes.

"Hey doll, you just missed the show. I killed it."

"Listen," Cunt Face spat, frantically. "Something is wrong with Mama. She's not acting right--I think she's losing her damn mind!"

Just what I needed: more Mama drama! "Where is she?"

"She's in the car. She is demanding that I bring her back to her trailer, regardless if it's burned down."

"You know, I think that's a good idea. Perhaps seeing her home will help jog her memory and bring back the Mama we know and tolerate."

Cunt Face was right, Mama was out of sorts when I got into the car.

"You look like trash. But I guess that's to be expected with a name like Trasha. Hey, the Cunt one--are you bringing me home or what?"

"Yes, Mama, Cunt Face is bringing you back to your burned down trailer. Enjoy the squalor."

"I'm in squalor now. It's only uphill from here, as far as I'm concerned."

How I wished that Cain would have erased Mama the way he erased PJ--but no, here she was.

I was relieved when we finally reached Jackson Trailer Park. Cunt Face pulled up next to Mama's trailer and turned off the car.

"Here we are: home sweet home. Shall we just dump her here, Cunt Face? I mean, I have things to do. Judge Judy is on soon."

"Don't bother escorting me!" Yelled Mama, leaving the car and bounding up her front porch. She turned the door and then--

--she froze.

[To Be Continued]

Love,

Trasha

Jesus, Take the Wheel!

2008-01-19T23:54:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Being a Christian means you have to pretend you care about things when you really, really don't. It's just the "Christian" thing to do, you know? Well, I was your quintessential Christian, putting up with Amnesiac Mama.

"Where's my room?" She snapped as soon as we walked in the door.

"Go down the hall, first door on the left."

"Thank God. See you in the morning." And with that she stopped into her bedroom and slammed the door. Moments later she returned, agitated.

"Are you serious?" She yelled.

"What?" I asked, my Christian kindness wearing thin already.

"You're making me bunk with that baby? You've got to be kidding--I'll never sleep through the night!"

I never even thought about Mama not just coming back and taking care of Starla like she always had. She's the only one who knew what to do with that Piss/Puke/Shit Machine. Remember that Starla is the first and only child I have ever allowed to fester in my cunt for nine months. I was brand-spanking new to all of this!

"She's a baby--how much trouble could she be?" I rebutted, but she was waving her hand over her head, like my words were flies she was trying to swat down.

"No way, no way, no way. Get that kid out of that room or I'm going to throw her out myself!"

I rolled my eyes, exhaled heavily and reluctantly retrieved Starla from Mama's room. Her playpen was in the living room and since I sleep in the recliner anyway, I guess it wouldn't be too much to let her sleep next to me.

"Get out of my face, woman!" I yelled and pointed toward the hallway.

"Good. Night." She said and was gone.

"Jesus," I said to Starla, putting her in her playpen. "Could that woman get any more annoying?"

As soon as I set her down, she started to cry.

"Are you kidding me? Come on--go to sleep. Please?!"

She kept crying, disregarding my request.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do? Why is me holding you so much better than this playpen? You have more room in this playpen and can roll around all you want."

She started to scream now, reaching up, begging me to pick her up, in her baby way.

"Fine!" I picked her up and she immediately stopped crying. I bent back down to put her in the playpen again and sure enough, she started to howl.

"You are really trying to work my nerves, aren't you?"

She looked at me and I could totally understand her expression. It said: "Just hold me and shut up, bitch!"

I sat down in the recliner, Starla nestled in the crook of my arm. I reached for the remote and could barely grab it because of that damn baby. I did manage, but my cigarettes and beer were even farther away and there was no way I'd be able to get to them.

"Oh, you little brat," I mumbled, feeling a nicotine fit coming on.

Starla snuggled up to me and I noticed that our breathing had started to match. We inhaled and exhaled in rhythm. Her fat little body was warm against me and I could feel this flow of energy coming from her.

I pulled a blanket over us and we were both soon fast asleep, with America's Next Top Model re-runs playing on the TV.

Love,

Trasha

Thrown Out of the Hospital

2008-01-19T19:16:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I was fixing to settle in for the night when the hospital called. Apparently, Mama was misbehaving so much that they decided to throw her out! When I got to the hospital to pick her up, she was fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, her feet bobbing over the edge.

"Hey," I said, quietly. I had no idea what I'd be met with so I thought it best to be cautious.

"I"m dressed like a whore." She said, referencing the spandex one piece and six inch heels she had gone to the hospital in.

"Well, you do love form-fitting materials."

"Disgusting," She spat. "Are you taking me out of here? Do I have to go home with you?

I reached for her hand. "Yes, I'm afraid you're coming with me."

She was quiet most of the way home. She didn't pipe up until I lit a Virginia Slim.

"Must you smoke?" She snapped. "I have to breathe your air, you know."

"Suck it up, old woman. I'm not going to stop smoking until they smoke me."

"That's a great attitude. But it's not enough to kill yourself; you want to take the rest of us down with you!"

She rolled down her window.

"Please tell me that I'm independently wealthy," She moaned, staring at the passing lights.

"Sorry, lady, not quite. Your trailer just burned down so you're staying with me."

"My trailer? I lived in a trailer?"

"Yep and you still are because I live in one, too."

"Oh sweet Jesus, save me from this Hell! I sure set a good example for you, didn't I? Christ on a crutch!"

"Oh, you have no idea. But I'll fill you in on all of that, in time."

"How about you do me a favor and just keep all that mess to yourself? I get more and more depressed the more you flap your gums."

"It's great to have you home, Mama." I said, dryly. I hope Mama can survive this amnesia because I'm this close to killing the bitch!

Love,

Trasha

Good News & Bad News About Mama

2008-01-19T12:18:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Cunt Face and I are at the hospital. We were greeted by a doctor before we were let in to see Mama. He said he had good news and bad news for us, regarding her condition. If you're like me, you prefer the BAD news first, but since Cunt Face is a bit more fragile than me, we decided to go with the good news first.

"The good news is, your mother has come out of her coma. She is awake and alert and giving the nurses hell."

"That sounds like Mama!" Cunt Face said, overjoyed at the news.

"But there is bad news, too, like I said," Continued the doctor. "It appears she has amnesia and at this stage, we cannot tell if this will be temporary or permanent."

"Amnesia?!" I yelled, not meaning to raise my voice, but unable to control it regardless. "You mean, she doesn't know who she is? She lost her memory?!"

The doctor nodded. "I'm afraid that is exactly what has happened. Due to her memory loss, she will not know who either of you are. She doesn't even know who she is, where she is or why she's in the hospital. Due to her condition and its delicateness, I thought it best for you to give her all that information."

I was floored. This shit was right out of a soap opera! I have never known anyone that lost their memory. How could I help Mama to remember who she was?! I looked at Cunt Face and she told me in my head: "I'm really worried, Trasha."

I answered her in the same fashion, without spoken words. "We'll get through this, I swear."

She reached out and gripped my band, to tell me she heard me loud and clear. Hand-in-hand, we entered Mama's hospital room.

Mama looked even smaller with the large machines surrounding her and with wires and tubes and whatnot going in and out of her. She had a black eye and her head was bandaged. She looked like a wounded bird.

She looked at Cunt Face then back at me then back at Cunt Face and then back at me again. "Who the hell are you?" She snapped, then touched her head and winced. "God dammit, my head is killing me. What the fuck is going on here?!"

I sat in a chair next to her bed. "We're your daughters, Mama. I'm Trasha and this is Cunt Face."

"Trasha? CUNT Face? Are you fucking kidding me with those names?"

Cunt Face and I exchanged glances. "Yes, Mama, that is what you named us and despite it all, we've grown to accept and love ourselves."

"That's crazy! What kind of mother would do that to her children! How the hell did I end up in this place?"

"You were hit by a car, Mama. You were hurt pretty bad and the doctor said you have amnesia. They don't know if you'll ever get your memory back, but Cunt Face and I will do our best to help you remember everything!"

"I'm tired--they are giving me something to make me sleepy, those bastard nurses. I think they just want to steal from me while I'm konked out."

It was funny, though Mama had no memory of who she was, she sure acted as mean as ever! Maybe this amnesia wasn't so severe...

"I don't want to sound rude you two, but that was kind of a hint for you to get the hell out!" Mama said, pointing to the door.

"OK, Mama. We'll go so you can get some rest. But we'll be back again and we'll bring Starla next time."

"Who the hell is that? At least her name is half-way normal."

"It's your daughter--I mean, your granddaughter. She's my biological daughter, but you've been raising her."

"I've been raising her? Why not you? What the fuck is so wrong with you that you can't raise your own kid?"

I shrugged. "It's a long story. We'll fill you in on all that in time. For now, just rest."

"Bye Mama," said Cunt Face, waving.

"Hey, you, the Cunt one. You kind of look like a dude."

"It's a long story, Mama," I said, trying to usher Cunt Face out the door.

"Are there any SHORT stories you can tell me? Jesus Fucking Christ!"'

We closed the door behind us when we heard Mama yell: "...and Stay Out!"

We asked the doctor if that kind of behavior was normal for amnesia patients and he said it was. Imagine waking up and not knowing ANYTHING about who you were, where you were, nothing. It must be pretty scary, so I didn't let what Mama say get to me.

Cunt Face and I went back home, where Starla had been hanging out in her playpen. I picked her up and noticed her diaper was heavy with piss and shit.

"Here you go, Cunt Face. Starla needs a diaper change."

I figured if Cunt Face wants to become a woman, she should be given all the fun privileges of womanhood.

Love,

Trasha

Thinking of Mama

2008-01-19T09:04:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Between the meth that I ingested and the situation with Mama, I wasn't able to sleep last night. I had cleaned everything there was to clean earlier in the day, so I decided to take a drive and went back to Jackson Trailer Park. I guess I thought if I was somewhere that really felt like Mama, it would make me feel better.

The police had taped off entrance into her trailer, because they had found PJ's partially-dismembered 700 lb. body in the bedroom. Police tape has never stopped me before and it certainly wasn't going to stop me now.

I entered the dank living room, sooty and blackened in places from the fire. I looked at the pictures on the wall--me at the age of 4, wearing my first sequin tube top, Cunt Face (when she was a boy) sliding a toy into his pocket at K Mart. She really captured us at our core--me, a tramp and Cunt Face, a thief. I never noticed it before, but Mama was a really talented photographer! The things she could do with a disposable were mesmerizing.

Scattered in the living room were some of Starla's toys, though what a baby could do with all that junk is beyond me. But it panged me because it reminded me of Mama and Starla's closeness. A bond she and I didn't share when I was a kid because she was too busy getting drunk, doing drugs and turning tricks to pay any attention to me and Cunt Face. Yeah, a little of me is jealous of Starla, but she is a baby and babies are boring. When she gets old enough to open her trap, that's when the interest will wane!

The cold of the trailer was beginning to wear on me so I got back into the car and drove around our old stomping grounds in Warren. The Memphis Lounge, Louie's Bar, The Pony Keg, White Way (my favorite truck stop--great food and great business in the parking lot)...everything was still standing and business was as usual. I was angry--how could anyone be going on with their lives when Mama was in the hospital, fighting for her life?!

I stopped in a White Way and sat in my usual booth (the same booth I sat at with Shonda, that back-stabbing bitch). I ordered a coffee and a patty melt with fries. I don't why I bothered, it's not like I would be able to eat it.

The bell that hung above the door tinkled as one of my regular customers, a trucker named Jerry, came inside. He saw me and then smiled widely.

"Hey, T!" He said, joyfully. "How you darlin'? How's your Mama? You two still doing those 2 for 1 specials?"

"Hi Jerry. If you don't mind, I'm off the clock right now."

His face soured. "Well, fine then. WHORE!" He then sat at the very end of the counter, as far from me as he could be.

Normally I'd never give such poor customer service--I'm no dummy; I know they pay my bills. But my mind was one place and one place only: in that hospital room with Mama.

I picked at my food, finished my coffee and then left. The sun was finally coming up, ending a shitty, shitty night. Hopefully today would be better. I am going to go visit Mama soon, when Cunt Face gets up and gets ready.

I'll keep you posted.

Love,

Trasha

Horrible Accident!!! [Part Two]

2008-01-18T22:35:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

As passionate as I am for my work (whoring, doing porn, singing), I'm a very non-emotional person. I just don't deal with them, you know? I feel like stone and have always felt like stone, so whenever that stone begins to crack and true, honest emotion pours out...well, it's too much for me to bare.

Cunt Face put her arms around me and pulled me close. I sobbed and sobbed, like I have never done in the 30 plus years I've been on this god forsaken planet. Fearing I would soil her silk top, I pulled away.

"I don't know what I'd do without her, Cunt Face. We fight a lot, sure--what mother and daughter don't? But I love that old lady. She has taught me everything I know in life. Whoring, bingoing, singing...I got it all from her."

Cunt Face was also emotional, tears flowing down her cheeks. "I know what you mean. She taught me how to spot a Mark. She showed me how to make a shank out of a chair leg and even where to stab someone, so they don't die."

"She's given us so much," I sobbed.

A older male doctor (a Mexican doctor no less), approached us.

"Ms. White?" He asked, looking at me and then looking at Cunt Face.

"Yes?" We responded, simultaneously.

"Is your mother Bonnie White?"

"Yes," I said.

"She's sustained major head injuries from the accident. Her body is just cuts and bruises, nothing that won't easily heal. But her head injuries are what concern us and we had to perform emergency brain surgery on her."

"Brain surgery?" Asked Cunt Face. "What do you mean?"

"We had to release the pressure building in her skull, which saved her life. We won't know more until she is conscious, and because of the state she is in, I don't see that happening anytime soon."

"Are you saying she's in a coma?" I was worried beyond belief now. That was as bad as being dead, in my opinion.

"Yes, Ms. White. But we are confident that it's temporary. Go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow. No use in you being uncomfortable out here, being such pretty ladies."

He winked at us and walked away.

"Even in the face of death, men still want sex." I spat, disgusted in the race that made my pussy feel so, so good.

Cunt Face grabbed my hand. "Let's go home."

And we did and I can barely even think about the words I'm typing. All I am thinking about is Mama in her hospital bed, in some vegetative state. Would she come out of the coma? And if she did, would she still be the same Mama we've always known? I have no idea, but I'll let you know all know as soon as I find out more.

Pray for her. Please.

Love,

Trasha

Horrible Accident!!! [Part One]

2008-01-18T22:09:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I'm going to try my best to not sound like a complete moron and tell you everything slowly and coherently. I will need to tell you everything in pieces as it's just too complex to put into words all at once.

I need to figure out where to start...I should probably start where I left off last time, huh?

I had taken Starla from Mama because it was so slippery out I was afraid she'd fall down and hurt herself and the baby. Mama, wearing heels as usual, was careful navigating the WalMart parking lot.

I opened the driver's side door of my car, lifted the seat and put Starla in the back. I didn't have a car seat (why would I?) so I just wrapped her in a shirt I found and tightened the seat belt as best I could.

That's when it happened.

A car came fish-tailing into the row I was parked in. The ice was so thick that the car was out of control. Mama was bending down to fix her shoe when the car smashed into her. The driver probably didn't see Mama or due to the conditions of the parking lot, just couldn't stop in time. Mama went flying over a car and landed in a bloody heap on the hood of a Sedan.

The car that hit her went skidding off and had disappeared around a corner before I knew it.

I ran to her. "Mama, Mama!" I screamed into her ear, but she was unconscious. "Help! Call 911, somebody!" I cried, looking around for someone, anyone.

A scuzzy guy with a beer belly and stained tee shirt was pushing a cart. I looked him in the eye and said: "Please, call 911! My mother just got hit by a car and the driver took off!"

"Fuck you!" He said and kept walking.

"You fat fuck! You FAT FUCK!" I screamed. I turned, looked around and no one seemed to take any notice of us. I thought people were supposed to be nicer in the country, but I guess I was wrong, wrong, WRONG!

I had to leave Mama's side to go into WalMart so I could call 911 my god damned self. I was greeted by some lady, probably a retired volunteer.

"Welcome to WalMart!" She said, smiling.

"Shut up!" I commanded. "My mother was just hit by a car and the driver has sped off. She is hurt real bad and needs an ambulance. Where's a phone? I need to call 911!"

She brought me over to the Customer Service desk, where she told one of the women to let me use the phone. They let me, unbelievably. I called an ambulance and they arrived twenty or so minutes later.

I rode in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital. I looked down at Mama, an oxygen mask on her blood-covered face. her eyes closed, seemingly dead to the world. I was holding Starla close, thinking that we couldn't lose her. We BOTH needed her. Starla was crying--she knew something wasn't right. I did my best to console her, but I know that she needs Mama, not me.

I called Cunt Face and she arrived some time later, with two coffees.

"Any news yet?" She asked, sitting down. She was wearing a fierce mink coat and matching hat, like a Russian dignitary.

"No," I said, taking a sip of the coffee. "I can't fucking believe it, Cunt Face. We had just made amends and were...well, we were just walking to the car! We were on our way home...how could this happen? And the motherfuckers who did it got away! They just kept driving and never bothered to come back."

Miracle of all miracles, I actually began to cry.

[To Be Continued]

Love,

Trasha

Coming Home

2008-01-18T14:45:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I still had some greenbacks leftover from the allowance Cain gave me and Cunt Face, so I decided to go out and spend some of them! I did what any girl in Downriver, Michigan would do with a pocket full of cash: I went to WalMart!

After some time shopping, I loaded up my car with my bags when I spotted Mama and Starla sitting out front. Mama had a cardboard sign that read: "I NEED TO FEED MY GRANDBABY! MY WHORE OF A DAUGHTER THREW US OUT!"

I slammed the trunk shut and walked over to them.

"I could sue you for slander, you know." I said, looking down at the two of them, their faces red from the cold.

"Fuck you, I'm workin'." Mama replied, not even glancing at me.

"Mama, come on--at least stay with me until you find somewhere else. I don't think you and Starla should be out here, begging for money. You look cheap."

"Why don't you just go call your pimp and leave us alone!"

I crouched down. "He's not my pimp, Mama. He's my lover and a damn good one, too. Now, stop the drama and come home with me."

She looked at me, her eyes welling with tears. "I feel like you forgot all about us once that black showed up. You've changed--you never used to care about having a man and now, he's all you talk about! What about the band? We haven't even written any new songs together or practiced or performed or nothing!"

I couldn't help but smile--she was so cute when she spilled her guts like that. "Mama...I'm sorry. I will make more time for you and for the band. I promise you, I will. We'll make that country record you've always dreamed of making."

Her eyes lit up: "You mean, like a real honky-tonk record?"

I nodded. "You got it! I'll even let you sing lead on a song for this new album."

"Really?!" She was beaming. "Oh, Trasha, that would be a dream come true. I don't want to steal your spotlight or anything, but I have always wanted my moment, you know? Maybe I'll even get some fans of my own!"

I extended my hand. "Come on Mama, let's go."

She took my hand and with her free arm, lifted Starla up. There was ice on the ground, so she could barely walk and hold the baby without almost falling.

"Let me take Starla, Mama. I don't want you to fall down!"

She gave me a strange look. "You mean, you actually want to HOLD your own daughter?"

I looked at Starla's chubby little face. She smiled at me, then reached a mitten-covered hand out and lightly patted my face and grabbed my nose. I started to get chest pains...I was actually feeling something.

It was love.

Love,

Trasha

Hit the Bricks

2008-01-18T12:18:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Well, the drama never stops at my place, that's for sure. Remember how Mama pissed me off so bad that I told her I was going to throw her out? She didn't even give me the chance; she left on her own, and took Starla with her. I had planned her dramatic eviction (throwing her clothes out the door, physically "giving her the boot" as she was leaving, perhaps even knocking her down the stairs), but no, she ruined all of that by hitting the bricks before my hangover wore off.

For a tiny lady, Mama sure did add a lot of energy to my trailer. I was actually getting used to us all being together--like a big family. I should have known it would never last; Mama and I just can't live together. I will admit--RELUCTANTLY--that it was pretty cool to have Starla around, even though I feel more like an Aunt to her than her biological mother. She is a cool kid, as far as baby's go. I am glad I didn't abort her.

In need of a distraction, I decided to put together my burlesque number. The song I will perform to is our single "Fist My Pussy". It's got a strong beat and I know that I can do some very bold movements to it. I moved the furniture in the living room and practiced and practiced for hours.

After a few bumps of my good friend "Tina", I was a DANCING MACHINE! Then I cleaned the entire trailer, reorganized the cabinets and used a toothbrush to scour the grout in the bathroom. Shazam!

OK, everyone, I need to go run some errands.

Love,

Trasha

Dinner Disaster!

2008-01-16T19:13:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

It didn't take Dionne Warwick's psychic friends to predict that my dinner date with Cain would be one big fucking disaster. Let me break it down for you.

First of all, dinner was much earlier than I expected it to be. Cain said he needed to go out of town for a few days to take care of some business (probably something to do with CRACK), so he needed to move up our date. Cunt Face and I, in a frenzy, worked at heating up all the food we bought the other day and cleaning the trailer and basically make everything perfect.

"I swear, Cunt Face, it's like Cain has two girlfriends--you're doing so much to make this a special night for him."

"I owe him, Trasha," Cunt Face replied, wiping the dinner table so it could be set with our best WalMart chinette. "He's done so much for me, I just wouldn't feel right to not properly welcome him into our home."

Mama came into the kitchen, Starla on her hip. "So, when's the black get here?"

We looked at Mama, stunned. "Mama! Stop calling him the black! He's my boyfriend and I want everything to be perfect. If you're going to fuck this up for me, you can stay in your room all night. Seriously--if you embarass me, I swear to Jesus, Mary and Joseph that I will cut out your uterus and sell it on ebay!" I was holding a butcher knife, that I had cut the corn bread with.

"Fine! I'll watch my tongue. Don't threaten your own mother! That's just classless."

And with that she and Starla went back into their bedroom. Mama slammed the door to punctuate her exit.

"That little bitch, I swear to God. One day I'm going to kill her." I finished arranging the cornbread into an old Easter basket I found.

"I'll help you bury the body." Cunt Face added, placing knives, forks and spoons next to each plate.

* * * * * *

When Cain finally arrived, I almost shit myself. I scanned the trailer:

Was everything clean?
Was everything put away?
Was the food ready?
Were there drinks prepared?
Did I hide all my porn?
Do I look pretty?
- Anything in my teeth?
- Does my breath smell good?
- Did I put on deodorant?
- What about perfume?
- Did I spray too much?
- How's my hair?
- Should I Aquanet it?

He was banging at the door now, I had to let him in. OK. Everything is fine. Everything is fine.

"Cain!" I said, swinging the door open, a huge smile on my face. "My love, enter! Enter my trailer."

He had a bunch of flowers in his hand and a bottle of Alize (the orange colored one, for all you curious folks).

"My darling, roses for the most beautiful woman I know. And Alize, so we can get crunked up in this bitch!"

I took his gifts and put them in the kitchen. Cunt Face came out of her room, looking fierce in a short, silver dress, making the red number I was wearing look dull in comparison. This was NOT cool!

Cunt Face walked up to Cain and gave him a hug and kiss--and that kiss lasted a little too long, if you ask me. "Cain, thank you for everything, I truly appreciate it. If there is ever anything I can do to repay you, let me know."

"How about letting me break that pussy in when you get it?" He then looked at me and started laughing. "Just kidding--I had ya there for a min."

I scowled at Cunt Face. She came up to me and whispered: "What?"

"I gotta piss baby, where the bathroom at?"

I pointed down the hall. "Right through there, honey. Oh, and you can leave your coat in my bedroom, last door before the shitter. I mean, rest room."

When he was safely out of earshot, I said, in a low voice: "You fucking bitch! Keep your grubby mitts off my man and go put something else on."

"Fuck you! I like this outfit. And I wasn't putting my mitts on your man--why are you acting like this?"

"You practically swallowed his face! And just remember whose tits are real in this place--MINE! And he'd much rather squeeze them than the bags of rice you have in that bra of yours!"

"You are acting insane, Trasha. Don't ruin the night: you want to make Mama happy?"

"Fine, I'll shut it. Where is that old bitch anyway?"

Mama and Starla came out of their bedroom and I nearly puked in my mouth. She was wearing a latex catsuit (black) with the sides cut out, so her fat was pouring out. Her hair was as high as it's ever been, the makeup darker than all get out and heels so high she could barely walk with that baby in her arms.

"What? No thong and tube top for the baby?" I said, my arms folded, my foot tapping nervously. "Cain's here, you know and he'll be out of the bathroom any second. So I suggest you change so you don't embarrass yourself--OR ME. I'm warning you, lady!"

But it was too late--Cain was standing behind Mama. "You must be Mrs. White. I'm Cain, Trasha's old man."

She put Starla down and turned around. "So is it true what they say? Once you go black you never go back?" She grabbed his leg. "I wanna go, Cain--take me there and don't ever let me come back!"

I grabbed Mama and pulled her off Cain's leg. "My mother is not only a talented singer, but also quite the funny lady. She's trying to be the new Joan Rivers, except she's failing dismally. Let's pour a drink Cain and celebrate this occassion."

"Now ya talkin'. Break open that Alize, baby, I want to make a toast."

I poured three glasses of Alize and handed one to Cain and one to Cunt Face.

"Hey, what about me? I like Alize!" Mama yelled, hands on hips, staring up at us.

I opened the cupboard and grabbed one of Starla's Sippy Cups and put some Alize in there.

"Here you are, little girl. Just don't tell yer Mama where you got this, OK?"

Mama glared up at me. "Bitch." She said, ripping off the top of the Sippy cup and downing the contents in one gulp. Then she let out a loud: "Ahhhhhhhh" and smacked her lips.

"A toast," Cain said, breaking the awkward silence. "To family, to new friends and to love--the most powerful motherfuckin' thang in this world."

We clinked glasses and drank. Cain put his glass down and started sniffing.

"Girl, did you make collard greens? And chitlins? And fried chicken? My mouth is waterin', gal. Fix me up a plate of that!"

I clapped my hands together, as if making a plate of food for a man was the best gift you could have given me. I piled his plate high--he had a trip to go on soon and he needed to have all his strength, I'm sure.

We ate in peace. Mama only took fried chicken, but Cunt Face and I were more daring and tried a bit of everything.

"Mmm mmm mmm. My Mama didn't even make chitlins this good. I swear, Trasha, you all got some black in you."

"I don't THINK so!" Snapped Mama. "Not in this family. We're 75% German and 25% Hillbilly, thank you very much! Not a lick of black in us."

"Speak for yourself," I said, winking at Cain. "I have quite a lot of black in me, from time to time."

I brushed my foot up against his leg, under the kitchen table.

"You all make me sick. I can't stand anymore of this, I'm going to bed. Come on, Starla." Mama slid off her chair, grabbed Starla and stomped her away into her bedroom.

"I'm sorry about her, Cain. I don't know what her problem is."

He waved me away. "No, no, don't even worry about it. Nothing can ruin my night with my baby." He glanced at his watch. "Shit. I need to jet--I can't miss my plane. Aww, darling, this dinner was great, really it was. Next time, dinner is at my place. You and Cunt Face will have to come over very soon."

I got up from the table and hugged him. "We will. And we'll leave Mama at home."

"Yeah, leave her at home!" He said, laughing.

I kissed him goodbye and watched him drive off. I wondered about where he was going, how long he'd be gone and what the hell he was doing. But I knew better than to ask. And I probably didn't really want to know.

I tried to open the door to Mama's room, but she had it locked. "Have a nice sleep, woman, because tomorrow you are out on the streets! How dare you act that way around my boyfriend?!"

"Fuck you!" She screamed from inside the room.

So now I sit here, alone. Mama and Starla, locked in their room. Cunt Face has left for the evening--again. I finished that bottle of Alize and have American Idol to look forward to. Hopefully I pass out before it's over.

Love,

Trasha

I Feel Like Chitlins Tonight, Like Chitlins Tonight!

2008-01-16T08:54:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Last night was reality TV OVERLOAD! Believe it or not, I missed the first hour of American Idol because Cunt Face and I had to go grocery shopping for the dinner party we're having in Cain's honor. But I did make it home at 9:00 p.m. on the dot to watch the second hour. This is just the auditions and in my mind, Idol doesn't REALLY begin until they start singing with the band! I also caught the hilarious Bad Girls Club and JDMA. Needless to say, I was in heaven!

Back to the dinner party. After asking my neighbors what black people ate (and they were more than generous with their opinions, but kept veering off the topic of food to the subject of Affirmative Action), Cunt Face and I went shopping and picked up all the necessities: fried chicken, watermelon, black eyed peas, collard greens and chitlins. I couldn't believe they actually had everything we needed at Meijer's! This was going to be a great meal.

Oh shit--I almost forgot to tell you! The DVD for my newest porn film "My Little Pony Fucker (Part Two)" comes out at the end of the month. Too bad Shonda had to totally fuck me over, making this film release bittersweet to say the least. Daddy called me to tell me the news and said they are having the premiere at a club in downtown Detroit. Now, times have changed since I made the first "My Little Pony Fucker" film, 25 years ago at the age of 6 and I will finally be old enough to appreciate this event for all that it is. Back then, all I cared about was coke and cock, but I'm more worldly now.

"We should celebrate, Trasha--you and me. I got a couple twenty's for you if you want to have a romp." Daddy sounded like he was jerking off on the phone again. I hated when he did that!

"You know, Daddy, I'm going to have to pass on that."

There was silence. "Excuse me? What the hell do you mean 'pass on that'? Do you know who you're talkin' to, young lady?"

"Yes, Daddy, I know who I'm talking to! But I have a boyfriend now so I'm going to have to hang up my whoring heels for the time being."

More silence and then. "Oh. I see."

"Don't be sore, Daddy--be happy for me! I'm in love!"

"Well, I gotta go, Trasha. Talk to you later."

Click.

Mama came into the living room, holding Starla.

"Uh oh," She said. "You pissed your Daddy off, didn't you. You'll pay for that, you better believe it."

I glared at her. "You think I'm afraid? He had better be afraid."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"Cain won't tolerate him intimidating me. God help him if he tries to cross me."

Mama sighed. "Oh Lord, Trasha. I sense a war starting."

Maybe she was right--maybe a war between Daddy and myself was starting and so be it. I had other things to worry about anyway--like making sure my God Damned family behaves themselves when Cain comes over tonight. I have to look my best and make sure the dinner is absolutely perfect.

Wish me luck everyone!!!!

Love,

Trasha

How Could I FORGET?!

2008-01-15T16:45:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I'm shaking--I almost forgot what tonight was: the season premiere of AMERICAN IDOL!!!!

Oh.my.god.I.can't.fucking.WAIT!!!!!!!

Love,

Trasha

How I Met Aunt Unis

2008-01-15T16:16:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

People have been asking me about this Aunt Unis lady that lives a few trailers down from me. "How did you two meet?" you've asked and "Why is she your nemesis?". Well, sit back and let me tell you!

Aunt Unis--who is NOT my Aunt, thank you very much--is a legend at the VFW's that pepper Southeastern Lower Michigan. She is known by all as the Cover All Queen for her historic Bingo-winning record. Now, anyone who knows me knows that when it comes to Bingo, I'm second to none. That is, until I met Aunt Unis.

It was at a Bingo tournament held at the VFW in South Rockwood, Michigan (where I now live, coincidently--or is it). The hall was packed with amatuers and professionals alike and we were all there to win the big grand prize: $5,000 dollars and a turkey fryer. I don't cook, but I knew I could easily trade that fryer for some greenbacks. But I digress.

The action was hot and heavy--I was dobbing Bingo cards so fast that ink was flying and then I noticed my neighbor, who was working an entire table by herself! Yes, this old bat had Bingo cards strewn across an entire table top and her tiny eyes darted to and fro, never missing a number.

It was down to the wire--almost every number had been called. I was ONE AWAY from winning the cover all and claiming my cash and prizes when...

"BINGO!!!" Aunt Unis cried, sounding like an old vulture. I slammed my first against the table, stood up and pointed at her and screamed:

"YOU WHORE!"

And since that day, I've made it my Bingo mission to crush Unis. I get close all the time--lord do I ever, but I've yet to beat her. But I will one day. You hear that Unis? I WILL ONE DAY!

And now we've moved to the very same trailer park Aunt Unis lives in--and just a few doors down, no less. I swear, God is either against me or has a bigger mission planned for me. Maybe he brought me close to her so I could learn her secrets. Is she screwing the guy pulling the Bingo balls at the VFW? Does she have some voodoo secret?

I'll let you know what I find out.

Love,

Trasha

The Genre For Our Next Album Will Be...

2008-01-15T14:04:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I've been chilling today, just resting and enjoying my life. Whenever I have these quiet moments in my life, that's when the songs start to come to me. It's like, I'll just be sitting there, gazing off and suddenly, words start coming to my brain. And then melodies and then before you know it, I have a brand new hit on my hands! It's magical, I tell you!

The music fairy came to sprinkle some inspiration on me today and told me what my new musical direction would be. In my brain, I heard the words:

"Country.Western.Star!"

And then it hit me. I don't want to do electronic music or dance music--I want to do COUNTRY music! I could be the next Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, Reba McIntyre, Shania Twain or Kenny Rogers! Better yet, I could be the next DOLLY PARTON!

So, that is what I plan to do. The new Cunty Bitches album or my first solo album (whichever should come first) will be COUNTRY.WESTERN. Or is that Cuntry Western?

Love,

Trasha

A Career Move

2008-01-15T10:41:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Mama always knows how to put a damper on a good day. She came out of her bedroom to tell Cunt Face and I to shut our traps so she and Starla could sleep.

"Do you want that baby keeping you awake all night? She behaves better than the two of you, that's for sure. At least she's quiet right now!"

"Oh, Mother, stop being so old! We're celebrating my newfound love affair!"

She looked at me, hand on her hip and said: "Now who is dumb enough to fall in love with you?"

"Mama, Trasha did good this time--he's a really great guy!" It was weird having Cunt Face come to my defensive as she never approved of the people I dated before.

"Well, I'll be the judge of that! Neither of you could pick a man to save your sorry lives. I've been around this block, honey, and I can smell a loser a mile away and anyone that has decided to shack up with you is a bona fide L-O-S-E-R!"

"I'm inviting him over to dinner this week to meet you so you'd better drop that attitude now, lady!"

"Don't tell me you plan on COOKIN' for him, too! Cunt Face, I think your sister has lost her God Damned mind!"

I never thought about what we were going to eat or how it would all happen. I don't cook! And if I do cook, it's nothing more than putting something in a microwave! Yikes!

"Oh, shit Mama--what am I going to do? What do black people eat?"

"He's BLAAAAAACK?!" Mama screamed and then fainted. Her small body hit the floor with a soft thud.

"Cunt Face, will you please help the drama queen to her feet?"

Cunt Face picked Mama up and sat her on the couch. Then, she slapped her hard across the face. I laughed!

"What happened? Who's there?" Mama said, dazed.

"You fainted Mama, after Trasha told you that her new boyfriend Cain is black. Black as night!"

Her eyes fluttered. "Oh, Jesus--I see you, Jesus. Have mercy on my soul Jesus--TAKE ME! I'm READY, Lord!"

I rolled my eyes at this display. And people wondered where I got my dramatics from.

I decided to let Cunt Face help Mama get over herself while I called Cain.

"Darling," He said. "I'd be happy to meet your family. Why don't you get all gorgeous and come to the club tonight? I want to introduce you to everyone and see if I can't get you a job."

"A job? That sounds great! I do love to work, Cain. What kind of job? Porn, whoring?"

"Better. You're a performer, right?"

"Why, yes I am! I am a natural, as a matter of fact."

"Well, my club is a burlesque club and I want you to see some of the shows we do and if you like it, I'd love to have you be one of our featured attractions."

"That sounds great, Cain. I'll see you tonight--and I'll look my most glamorous!"

"Bring Cunt Face, too. I'd love for her to see the show."

"Oh, I will. And thank you, by the way, for what you did for her."

"Don't mention it. I'd do anything for you and those you love. And for those who cross you--well, let's just say if they cross you, they cross me, too. And you know I'm not the nigger to cross."

* * * * *

Cunt Face and I arrived to the club (dressed to kill) by limo and were escorted to Cain's private booth. He kissed me on the lips and gave me a big hug. He even hugged and kissed Cunt Face!

"The show is going to start soon--I want you to pay special attention to Sabrina. She's the best bitch we got. Well, for the time being anyway. Once my baby starts doing her thang, I know she'll be yesterday's news!"

I snuggled up to him. He made me feel like a princess!

We got drinks (I decided to be CLASSY and have a DIRTY MARTINI) and sat back as the show began. It was quite the spectacle--like the movie Showgirls! There were props and fancy lighting and smoke machines--straight up drama! I was transfixed. The girl doing her performance was exciting and all, but I kept thinking how I'd do it so much better. Stronger movements, more eye-contact...she knew who to take off her clothes, but she didn't know shit about connecting to her audience. That really made her routine suffer and I was free with my critiques once the show ended.

"You think you can show her a thang or two, baby?" Cain purred, rubbing my shoulder.

"I know I can, Cain! You've got the drama, that's for sure--you just need that extra something. I can make you proud--I can do this burlesque thing. I'll be just like...well, a fat Dita Von Teese!"

"You ain't fat baby, you just right. I like a bitch with junk in her trunk and tits for days."

"Aww, Cain--you're such a sweet talker!"

Cunt Face and I left after an hour or so and Cain escorted us out to his limo.

"Now, you let me know when you want to start and I'll get you up on that stage. It sure beats getting that pussy worked out at the truck stop, doesn't it? The only man working that pussy out will be ME!"

He kissed me hard, a powerful, dangerous kiss. A kiss that said: 'Don't fuck with me, you fat bitch or I'll cut you!'

And that night I slept and dreamed of performing. Perhaps I could even work some music into my numbers and really turn that show into something fabulous. Maybe even get Cunt Face and Mama involved somehow...my dreams were abuzz with possibilities and I couldn't wait to make my dreams into a reality.

Love,

Trasha

Too Good To Be True

2008-01-14T22:58:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

Now, I don't want to sound like I'm bragging or anything, but I officially have the BEST boyfriend in the world! Listen to THIS shit:

Cunt Face walks into the trailer with a huge grin on her face. "Guess where I just was?". She was beaming.

"Um, I don't know--something tranny-related?" It was all she talked about.

"Yes, but listen, bitch. I get this call today from a doctor in Bloomfield Hills that specializes in Gender Dysphoria. He said he was alerted of my condition and wanted to see I wanted to meet with him for a consultation."

"Well, that's funny! How the hell did he know to call you? Are you listed in some tranny directory or something?"

"No--shut up and listen. So I ask him: 'Who alerted you to my condition?' and he said: 'A gentleman: Mr. Cain."

"Cain? For real?"

"Yes! He said that Cain told him to take care of me--whatever tests and stuff I needed, to bill him for. Can you believe that?"

"You're saying my boyfriend Cain is paying for you to become all trannyfied? Well, I'll be Good God Damned! I sure picked a compassionate one, huh?"

"Yeah, Trasha--he's a little too good to be true. Don't think I'm complaining though; I'm just not used to people being so..."

"Caring? Generous?"

"Yes, exactly. I have to tell you, Trasha: Cain is quite a guy. You did really great finding him!"

I felt like a hammer hit me. "You actually approve of him? Are you drunk? Did that doctor drug you?"

She slapped my arm, playfully. "Stop it. Yes, I approve. He's really great and I can't tell you how much I appreciate all he's doing for me. I must thank him in person--we should all have dinner or something!"

I didn't like the idea of sharing Cain's company, but this was Cunt Face, my twin. For her, I would allow Cain's attention to be divided between the two of us. Plus, Cunt Face is still a tranny while I am a 100% real woman. I think I can capture Cain's interest a little more than my pseudo-sister.

"I'll arrange everything. Hell, we'll invite Mama and Starla, too. We'll let him get to know the whole family. This will be like a, well, like a Welcome to the White Family party for Cain! What do you think, should we perform for him, too?"

Cunt Face gave me a 'Bitch, Please!' kind of look and so I put any thoughts of The Cunty Bitches giving Cain a private show out of my mind.

"It'll be fun. I'd be honored to properly introduce the new love of my life to you, Mama and Starla: my family."

It's like Cunt Face was finally picking up what I was putting down. "So you and Cain are...official? You're an item?"

A huge smile tore across my face. "YES! HE'S MY BOYFRIEND!"

She grabbed my arms and pulled me up from the recliner and we danced around the living room, like kids. Like idiots!

"Oh, Trasha, I feel like this is a new beginning...for all of us! It's like the universe has just said: 'Let's leave them the fuck alone--they've gone through enough!' You know what I mean?"

I did. I put my arm around Cunt Face's shoulder and said:

"It's a new day, Cunt Face. I see great things for us: success, money, fame and maybe even love and romance. And for you, I see a big, fat, shiny new pussy. And some new tits. And maybe a nose job."

"Hey!" She snapped. "What's wrong with my nose?"

"Well, I figured, since you were going under the knife, might as well get your money's worth, right?"

She laughed. Then I laughed and we smiled and giggled and acted a fool, like we did years ago when things weren't so heavy and everything seemed so much easier. And you know what? It felt fan-fucking-tastic!

Love,

Trasha

You Can't Turn a Whore Into a Housewife!

2008-01-14T14:55:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Cain and I are officially DATING! He called me late last night to talk and the subject of relationships came up and he said: "After the other night, I realized that no other bitch can come close to you. I want you to be my bitch--exclusively."

Now, monogamy and me have never been friends and you know that old Biblical saying: "You can't turn a whore into a housewife". It was true and it felt like Cain was trying to do just that.

"Cain, you know I care for you and it would make me so happy to have you as my man, but you know what I do for a living. I'm a whore, a porn star as well as a musician. How can I turn my back on all that for you?"

"Baby," he purred into my ear, making my nipples hard. "You ain't gotta turn your back on being a singer, a porn star or a whore--but I don't want you fucking around at those truck stops anymore. That's some nasty shit and the pay is nothing. Now, if you want to use that pussy to make some real money, I can assist you with that."

"You mean...be my pimp?"

"Ha-PIMP?! Oh, Trasha, you're funny girl. That sounds so OLD SCHOOL. Think of me more as your manager and someone looking out for your best interests--personal and financial. I know how to market you and get you making the kind of money whores just dream about. But you'll be more than a whore--you'll be my woman--and I'll make sure you are taken care of."

"Cain...I don't know what to say. I'm not used to all this!"

"Just say yes, baby. Say you'll be my bitch."

"I'll do it! I'm officially your old lady, Cain!"

As soon as I hung up the phone, I ran through the trailer, looking for SOMEBODY to tell the good news to. Mama and Starla were fast asleep and Cunt Face was out for the evening. Too tired to blog, I just celebrated by myself with a blunt and a 40 oz. of Coors Light. If it were warmer outside, I would have sat on my picnic table, but I had to settle for my recliner. My mind raced with possibilities--becoming the head lady of Cain's empire, perhaps even helping him to outwit the cops if they got too nosey about his operations (which I was still unsure of, but the thought of it was dramatic)...this was as close to being a Mafia Princess as I would ever get.

I turned the TV on and fell asleep, but was woken later by the sound of the news and especially, what was on it. The mention of Jackson Trailer Park and the body of a morbidly-obese man were impossible for me to ignore.

"The body of a 700 lb., partially dismembered man has been stolen from the Macomb County Morgue last night, thwarting police efforts to find DNA evidence of whoever is responsible for the man's murder."

I tuned the rest out. Cain was behind this. This is the man I've decided to get romantically involved with. Yes, he is dangerous and I like that, but perhaps I briefly forgot about HOW dangerous he was. Kidnapping, arson, murder--it was all so easy for Cain. PJ was totally innocent and had nothing to do with Shonda, but he easily disposed of him just to get her where he wanted her. And now she is probably dead, too! What would it take for him to turn on me like that? And who would I put in harm's way?

Ah, who am I kidding? I'm, as Sommore would say: "I'M DICKMATIZED!"

Love,

Trasha

I'm on Cloud 69!!!!

2008-01-13T16:17:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

What a weekend! You've heard of being on cloud nine? Well, I'm on cloud 69 bitches! I can't recall the last time I've been head-over-heels with puppy love, but it feels great. My whole body is still tingling...

So let me rewind my joy to catch you up. Cain was shocked to hear from me so soon, pleasantly though. His voice purred like a lion, telling me how glad it made him that I reached out to him. He said he had been thinking about me too and wanted to see if I'd like to get together--that night!

"Oh, Cain, that sounds lovely--but I don't have a thing to wear. Maybe we can do it some other time."

"Girl, are you crazy? You're going to not see me because of something as trivial as fashion? If you need a new outfit to hang with Cain, than a new outfit you shall have. How about this--I'll have my driver pick you up and bring you anywhere you want to go. Bring Cunt Face, too. You girls have a day of shopping on me--my driver will bring you cash. Go to the spa--go to the salon. I want you to get gorgeous because I'm going to take you out tonight and we're going to paint the town red. That sound good to you, baby?"

I stammered, floored by this reaction. "Ah, uh, um, yeah...yeah, that sounds good to me!"

"I'll see you at 8 sharp. My driver will bring you to me."

"See you at 8, Cain."

He hung up and I was abuzz with delight--seriously, I was shaking.

"CUNT FACE!" I screamed. "CUNT FACE!"

She came bounding from the bedroom, in her robe with her hair pulled up in a towel. "What?! What's going on?"

"Stop what you're doing. We are going to go SHOPPING and go to the SPA and go to the SALON--all on Cain; it's his treat!"

A smile came to Cunt Face. "Are you serious? Oh, I could really use a massage--and some new clothes. We didn't shop nearly enough the last time we were in Chicago."

"Tell me about it! Oh, I'm so excited! And I'm going to see Cain tonight at 8. His limo driver is taking me to him--oh, and he's coming here with money and to take us anywhere we want to go! Cunt Face, I feel like a STAR! Don't you?"

We were holding each others hands, jumping up in down in the living room--like we had just won the lotto.

"Yes, I do! I really do, Trasha!"

* * * * * * * *

When the limo pulled up outside, Cunt Face and I were waiting and had been for ten or so minutes. We wanted to see our new neighbors reaction to us being picked up in a Cadillac LIMO! I caught the glare from my nemesis Unis, who was scowling at us from inside her trailer. I smiled real big at her as I stepped into the limo, like the star I was. She flipped me off--such bad manners for an old lady!

I'll see you at bingo, BITCH!

The driver handed me a thick white envelope as he opened the door for me. Once inside, Cunt Face and I looked with amazement at the thousands of dollars in cash that Cain had provided to us for our day on the town.

"You're going to have to put out for sure, Trasha--and I mean ANAL, too." Cunt Face said, looking at the money, then looking up at me.

"Consider it done!" I said, my pussy twitching with desire at the thought of Cain's big hard cock gliding up inside of it.

We had the limo bring us to Southland Mall, where we hit all the big stores. We went to pretty much every makeup counter and got new EVERYTHING! We went to the beauty salon and got manicures, pedicures, facials and got our hair cut, colored and styled. Cunt Face, who was working some pretty piss-poor extensions, had them redone with better, higher-quality hair. I felt like Dorothy in the Emerald City!

By the end of the afternoon, we were different creatures. We looked like we just stepped out of a high-budget porno. The driver brought us back home so we could unload all of our stuff. I changed into a new dress (a tight black number), new heels (Manolo Blahniks bitches), checked to make sure my hair and makeup were still fierce and then threw on a mink wrap and was out the door.

"Take me to Cain, please," I said, trying to sound like a movie star from the 40's.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, seemingly charmed by my gorgeous looks and personality. Who wouldn't be?!

* * * * * * * *

We pulled up to a swanky club with only the word "Burlesque" on the building, in red neon lights. My door was opened for me by someone at the club and when I exited, a man said:

"Are you Ms. White?"

"Yes, I am--you may call me Trasha," I said, extending my hand, delicately.

"I will take you to Cain." He gave me his arm to hold onto. I took it, as any lady would.

He lead me through the high-end club, passed leather booths and leather-covered belly ups. Men in suits drank cocktails and women in much, much less accompanied them. The men all seemed single and the women all seemed to be working. Whether it was just stripping or much, much more, I could hardly tell.

We walked to the very back of the club, where a private VIP room was. My escort pulled back the red velvet curtain and inside was Cain, a few men and one of the female workers.

"Trasha!" Cain said, smiling a bright twinkling smile. He was dressed in a white suit with platinum and diamond accessories. He was quite a sight! "Come to me, darling. I'm so glad you came."

I extended my hand so he could help me up into the room. I said polite hellos to everyone at the table before sitting snugly next to Cain. I rubbed my thigh against his and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," I said, directly to him and quietly enough so he knew it was just meant for him to hear.

He took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles and fingers softly.

"You've made me a happy man tonight."

I leaned over, so that my lips brushed against his earlobe as I spoke. "You haven't seen anything yet. I can make you much, much more happy."

He gripped my hand. "Why you gotta torture me like this? You just got here."

"Cain, you know I don't do pretense."

He glanced around the table at his company. "Gentleman--and Sabrina--please excuse my guest and I. We've got some personal matters to discuss."

They smiled and we politely left. I was holding Cain's arm was he made his way through what looked like a VIP section of the club. We went into a hallway that had doors on either side. He would pull on a handle every so many doors and they were all locked. We finally reached one that opened and Cain lead me inside.

The room was small, but well-decorated and comfortable. There was a dim lamp on a table, a red-velvet covered bed and a TV on a stand.

Cain took me by both hands. "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since we met. There's something about you Trasha--I don't know what it is, but I feel intoxicated when I'm next to you. Seeing you now only confirms that. You drive me fucking crazy, girl."

He leaned in and started to kiss my neck, his hands caressing my back and my sides.

"I feel the same about you, Cain. I'm used to being alone--being independent and not caring about anyone but myself. But when I met you, I felt this electricity. I dreamed of you and your hands all over me."

He unzipped the back of my dress, causing it to fall off my shoulders. He slid it down further, exposing my breasts and stomach. He grabbed them in both hands, sucking on my nipples.

I guided us over to the bed, where I laid down. He finished pulling my dress off, so that I was just in panties and heels. He went for the panties next and as he took them down, began to lightly lick my pussy.

"Leave the heels on," he said and then dove right into work, twisting his tongue this way and that--doing things to my pussy a man had never even dreamed of doing. I could have been satisfied right there with that, but before I knew it, he was inside of me--what felt like ten inches was plunging into me again and again, tapping on my G-spot, tapping...tapping...

I cried out in ecstasy, orgasms exploding through me. He held still and then moved in a way that caused me to cum again and again and again.

I need two Virginia Slims when all was said and done.

We lay next to each other, feeling drunk with desire.

"I've never--in my life--had my pussy served like that. Seriously--you've set a benchmark, my friend."

He laughed. "Don't sell yourself so short, my dear. You have the pussy of a 10 year old! How the hell do you keep it so fucking tight? Good GOD! And you take anal better than any bitch I've had before. They broke the fucking mold when they made you, Trasha. They broke the fucking mold."

We looked in each other's eyes and I knew that I was smitten. And I don't do smitten very well! What if I ruin everything? What if he doesn't want to see me again and I've just created this whole thing in my mind?

Cunt Face and Mama knew something was up when I came home. They weren't used to seeing me smile so much! I dismissed their questions and retired to my bedroom--the first time in Jesus knows how long. And when I woke, that glorious feeling was still there.

I'm in love.

Love,

Trasha

A New Dawning

2008-01-12T11:03:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

Today was the first day I didn't wake up pissed off at the world. I'm by no means a "morning person" and anyone who's ever had the misfortune of living with me can verify that for you. But today was different. Like, I woke up all calm and shit and then noticed how the sun was coming into the living room of the trailer. I got out of my recliner and opened the curtains and felt that warm glow on my face. It was quiet outside, snow on the lawns, ice twinkling on the bare tree branches. A new day. A new life.

I felt so good in fact that I ran to the shower, got all cleaned up and then put on something both warm and kind of dressy (leggings and a sweater dress and a pair of Uggs that Cunt Face stole for me), did my makeup and hair, threw on my faux fur coat and went out into the winter morning.

It was a new year and my life had just changed in a big way. I don't know why meeting Cain has made me feel like this, but I just do--and it feels great. I have a renewed sense of hope about things--like I'm on the precipice of a grand rebirth.

I was smiling as I puffed on my Virginia Slim. I was walking around my new neighborhood, looking for a place to get coffee. Now, I typically start my morning with a beer (or two), but today I didn't feel the need. I wanted to be aware of all this and feel these good feelings because God knows, they don't seem to last long!

I did find a gas station, so I got a coffee, flirted with the guy ringing me up and then continued my stroll. I felt like my life had just burst into color, as I sipped and strolled. But I noticed myself wishing Cain was next to me, looking at this new world with me.

Was I feeling feelings for Cain? Now, chocolate has never been my flavor (if you get what I mean: you know, he's black), but I wouldn't mind having some right about now. Yes, I did have a little crush on Cain--he was rich, powerful and dangerous: everything I could ever want in a man! Why was Shonda such a fool to do him so wrong? I imagined Shonda's body being dumped in the river near the sulfur factories and I laughed. That's what you get, dummy!

I wouldn't fuck Cain over--hell no! I would give him all the respect he deserves. I know his pimp hand is fierce and I'm not dumb enough to put myself in Shonda's situation. I vowed then and there that when I got back home, I would call Cain.

When I did make it home, Mama and Starla were up, in the kitchen. Mama was standing on a stool at the stove, making herself some eggs and Starla was in her high chair, drinking a bottle.

"Where the hell were you?" She asked, not taking her eyes off the stove.

"Oh, just taking a walk--checking out our new digs."

"Since when do you leave the house before 2 pm? And without a buzz? Are you pregnant again or just plain crazy?"

I patted Mama on the back and sat down at the table. I made little faces at Starla, who responded with giggles.

"Mama, we need to talk." I knew the discussion about PJ had to happen and now was as good of a time as any.

"Oh, really, what about?" She said, her back still to me. Her tone made me think she already knew what we were going to discuss.

"PJ."

"And what about PJ? Are you going to tell me that he's dead?" She said, in a matter-of-fact way.

"Did Cunt Face tell you?"

"No, I saw it on the news. When the body of a partially-dismembered 700 lb. man is found, it tends to make the evening news."

She stopped stirring her eggs.

"Are you OK, Mama?"

She turned and faced me, tears flowing down her cheeks. "He's gone, Trasha. He's gone."

"I know. I'm so sorry Mama--I know how you much you loved him."

She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve. "Yes, I loved PJ and now I feel so alone!"

I went up to Mama and put my arms around her. "You're not alone, Mama. You've got me, Starla and Cunt Face. We'll be just fine. We'll stick together and get through this. Good things are going to come, I just know it."

She rested her head on my breast. "It's hard to think of anything good ever happening again."

"You'll see, in time. Let me finish making your breakfast for you. You go sit down by Starla and relax."

She looked at me with a shocked expression. "Are you manic?"

"Sit!" I said, shooing her away. I moved the stool out of the way and finished the eggs and sat Mama down to eat them. She and Starla looked so cute next to each other. Mama shared a bond with Starla that I could never have, and I gave birth to her! Isn't that strange that I could give life to something and yet not have that connection with it?

But anyway, I'm going to call Cain and I'll let you know how all that goes soon enough!

Love,

Trasha

Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend

2008-01-11T15:29:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends,

I have found the strength to continue, thanks to the love of our Lord Jesus, a 12-pack of Coors Light, a carton of Virginia Slims and a bottle of Percocets. It's taking everything I have in me to reveal all of this to you--this madness that has become my life recently.

I've dealt with a lot of shit in my life, from my childhood as a child porn actress, getting hooked on drugs before I even got my first period, being raped, abused--basically, you name it and I've survived it, by the grace of God. I think all that has just hardened me and made me into the fucked up mess I am now. I try--I truly, truly do--but I wish shit would start working out in my favor.

But enough whining--we've all got more important things to do, right? Believe it or not, writing all this down really helps me! You reading my blabbering and sending me encouraging messages and comments (hint hint) keep me going.

Let me stay on course just this once so I can fill you all in.

The last I told you, we had peeled out of Jackson Trailer Park (me, Cunt Face and Shonda) and were heading to Cass Ave. We had exactly an hour to get there and figure a way out of this mess so that nothing would happen to Mama. As I drove, pedal to the metal of course, I kept kicking myself inside for leaving Mama and Starla behind. I thought I was protecting her and in reality, I was just making it easier for her to be kidnapped, like PJ was. A fine mess I got everyone into and all because I wanted to have a fucking friend! Shonda coming into my life was the worst thing possible.

We fulfilled our promise of filling Shonda in (for the most part). After all that had gone down, my loyalty to her had dissolved. This selfish, greedy bitch brought all this trouble to my family and I can talk as much shit about them as I want to, but they are still MY family and the only one that can ruin their lives and get away with it is ME.

Shonda sat in stunned silence until I finished my tale. Then...

"I'm sorry--I am so sorry. This is all my fault, I just know it. I never wanted anything to happen to you or your family, Trasha. You were just being a good friend to me and...well, I don't know what to say except I'm sorry."

"Well," I said, not trying to spare anyone's feelings. "Sorry isn't going to bring PJ back from the dead."

"I know."

"Hey, guys," Cunt Face said, from the backseat. "Is that the place?"

He pointed to a set of projects, identical brown brick buildings. The sun had set so the darkness made them look even scarier than they probably were in the daylight.

On the other side of the street, a parked cars headlights flashed.

"That's them," Shonda said. "That's Cain."

"Stay here," I said to her and Cunt Face. I told Cunt Face in my mind to not let Shonda get away and the look Cunt Face gave back was one that said: 'You got it, bitch.' Now, Cunt Face may be a tranny, but she can be a crazy and brutally psychotic bitch when she needs to be. There's no one I feel safer with in the world.

So I buttoned up my fur jacket (fake, not because I care about animals, but because I'm broke) and walked toward the car. It was a big Cadillac limo with darkly tinted windows.

The rear driver's side window rolled down and inside was an older black man, looking like the most blinged-out pimp I'd ever seen. He was dripping in diamonds and even had them in his teeth! Part of me wanted to bust him in the chops and run away with whatever fell out! Diamonds ARE a girl's best friend after all.

"I'm Cain," He said. "You are Trasha. My, I think I could make a pretty penny with a girl like you working for me. Hop in, sugar."

He slid over and opened the door. I got in. We were alone.

"So, I got your messages," I said, feeling no need to beat around the bush. "And while I totally appreciate organized crime and all that, did you really need to kill my fat husband?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe yes, maybe no. It's just how I roll, Trasha. I like to make bold statements. We've both got a flair for dramatics, do we not?"

Now, I know this man has made my life miserable lately and that he JUST had my husband murdered, but I couldn't help but be dazzled by his charm.

"We sure do, Cain. So let's get down to brass tax: I don't have any money but I do have something a little more valuable. I've got Shonda with me and I'm prepared to hand her over so you can do as you wish with her."

A look of surprise came over Cain's face. "You'd give your friend up that quickly?"

I gave him a 'Bitch, you crazy?' kind of look. "You're damn right! I don't want any more the drama that bitch is bringing into my life!"

"Well, I can understand that and I am sorry that she had to drag you into her business but that bitch ain't who you think she is at all. In fact, she was the one that lead us to you. I think she thought that if she could put this on you somehow, she'd be absolved of her sins, so to speak."

"You mean--she knew this whole time? She acted like she was shocked by all this!"

"She's a lying bitch. But she must have really liked you if she agreed to come with you today. So perhaps she's isn't all bad, but she is mostly just rotten. And like any garbage, she needs to be disposed of. But I need my money first."

"Do you really think she still has it? I mean, she said she went through the money like water...she's probably spent it all."

Cain smiled, showing his diamonds to me. "That's what she wanted you to think, but I know better. Bring me that bitch and I'll show you where my money is."

"You got it! And Cain--I feel obligated to say this...No hard feelings, OK?"

He reached over to me and gently stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.

"I like you, Trasha. You are a direct, honest woman--which is a rare thing with your gender. I will give you my card. We are allies now and I will make all this up to you. As long as you don't cross me, we'll be cool."

I smiled. I loved dangerous men with power!

"Before I get Shonda--is my Mama ok? You don't have her, do you?"

"Your Mama is fine--she is at home with your daughter, just as you left her. Your daughter is lovely--she has your eyes."

I did feel a bit uneasy, knowing that I was so easily spied on and followed. It actually made me feel like a celebrity for once--always under watch. I told myself right then and there that this was something I'd have to get used to as my star power would only grow.

I left the car and went back to my own, where Shonda and Cunt Face were. I got in the driver's seat.

"So?" Shonda said, her fear obvious in her tone of voice.

"He wants you to go with him, Shonda."

"No!" She screamed. "I'm not going with him--no fucking way! He'll kill me, Trasha! You've gotta help me get out of this mess! I thought we was friends!"

"He said you have his money and he wants it, so just give it to him and you can be free!"

Shonda reached into her purse and pulled out a pistol--MY pistol as a matter of fact!

"You bitch--that's my gun! Hasn't anyone ever told you that you NEVER handle another person's gun! How rude."

"Drive, Trasha--get me the fuck outta here because I'm fittin' to go crazy up in this bitch if you don't! I have killed before and I will kill again!"

"Who did you kill?" I asked, mockingly. "Cain's daddy doesn't count because he had a heart attack."

She laughed. "He certainly did have a heart attack--after I poisoned him. Don't be so naive and trusting, Trasha. Now drive!"

I looked in the rear view mirror and caught Cunt Face's eyes. I could see the difference in them--something in her, an internal switch, had been flipped. Her eyes narrowed and she told me, in my head, that 'I got this bitch, don't you worry.'

I started to put the car in drive when it happened. So quickly, so efficiently, Cunt Face had both wrapped a curling iron chord around Shonda's neck and with her leg, managed to kick my gun free from Shonda's grip. I quickly reached down and grabbed my gun and pointed it at Shonda while Cunt Face kept her captive with the curling iron chord.

"Good idea, bringing that curling iron, Cunt Face!" I said, my gun still aimed right at Shonda's head. "You never know when you'll need to do your hair--or choke a bitch!"

"I'm always prepared, sister dear," She said, calm as she always is under pressure.

"Now we're going to take this bitch over to the lovely Cain so she can get what's coming to her."

"He's lovely, is he?" Cunt Face asked.

"Oh yes--that whole PJ thing is water under the bridge." I directed my voice to Shonda next. "Let's go, darling. Your man wants a few words with you."

Cunt Face had a firm grip on Shonda and we both managed (him with a chord wrapped around her neck and me with a gun pointed at her) to get her to Cain's car. He opened the door for me.

"Good work, Trasha--you certainly are kind for bringing my darling girlfriend back to me. Now get it--all three of you."

Cunt Face kicked Shonda in the back, forcing her into the car. Shonda and Cunt Face sat opposite Cain and me, Cunt Face maintaining his control over her prisoner.

"Where's my money, Shonda?" Cain said, his voice cold as the weather outside.

"Fuck you!" She spat back.

"Well, there goes the nice way," Cain said and the reached over and torn her shirt open.

He then torn her bra off, leaving her half naked.

"See right there?" Cain said to me, pointing to a pocket sewn into the left cup of Shonda's bra.

"I see it, Cain. Now, what is it for?" I was just being a bitch now, I'm no dummy!

"Well, Trasha, this is what Shonda has this pocket in her bra for..." He tore the seams free and a handful of diamonds came tumbling out, into Cain's hand.

"Oh, when you said she stole your money, I thought you meant CASH."

He shook his head. "Nope, she stole some diamonds from me. And you should never fuck with a man and his diamonds. You'd never do something so foolish, would you Trasha?"

"Hell no!"

"And this...this must be Cunt Face. I understand you are currently in transition?"

Cunt Face had a strange expression on her face. "Uh...yes...I am currently TRYING to. It's expensive."

He smiled. "Your sister Trasha and I have made amends. I'll be in touch with you both soon. We'll see how I can help you reach your goal."

"Don't trust him, Trasha!" Shonda said, desperately.

"Shut it, bitch! Anyway, Cain, it's been lovely meeting you and we will be in touch. But I think it's time that cunt Face and I left you and Shonda alone, don't you think?"

Cain smiled, that big, glittery smile. "Yes, I reckon."

I kissed him goodbye, on the cheek and Cunt Face and I walked briskly back to my car and drove away, back to our new home Downriver.

Love,

Trasha

The Black Box [Part Three]

2008-01-10T16:18:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I have a lot to say--bare with me as I try to sort myself out. I may be a bit all over the place, but that's just because of everything that's happened.

Our first morning in our new home was a weird one. You could cut the tension with a shank. Starla, picking up on the energy around her, was a fussy, crying mess. I was reminded why I sold her on the black market.

Mama and Cunt Face busied themselves by cleaning up the trailer. Stuff shifted around during the move and I know they were just keeping their minds off the black box--both for different reasons. I'm sure Cunt Face didn't want to REMEMBER what was in it and Mama was just dying of morbid curiosity. She knew something wasn't right, but just kept on cleaning and taking care of Starla.

Shonda was on edge as well and she occupied herself by breaking up a huge bag of weed she had. She shredded big buds with her quick fingers, so that it was ready to be rolled up. Sometimes, when I am really nervous, I like to do the same.

But not this day. I had some serious thinking to do and part of me--OK, MOST of me--was really bitter that all this shit had fallen squarely on my shoulders. What about ME? What about MY life? I am not the kind of person to spend any amount of time worrying about the affairs of others. I like to keep to myself and stay out of other people's drama. But it always finds me! I feel like I'm just marked for bad luck.

Cunt Face and I snuck away from everyone at one point and locked ourselves in our bedroom to talk.

"We should go back to Jackson Trailer Park before heading to Cass Ave." Cunt Face said, a grim expression on her face.

"Why? What good will that do?"

"Because--whoever has PJ may have gone back to the trailer park to leave you another message."

She was right. We had to go back, which I hated because I thought I'd never have to see that God-forsaken place again. But I needed to know if another message/package/clue was left behind before I went into the lion's den.

We left Mama and Starla at the trailer. I told Cunt Face that we HAD to bring Shonda in case she was connected to all of this and she agreed: better Shonda than us, you know? She was our bargaining chip.

Thankfully, Shonda rolled a couple blunts for our trip so by the time we got to Jackson Trailer Park, we were pretty much FADED! And after I saw what was waiting for us, I couldn't have been happier that I wasn't sober.

There was another black box, in the empty lot where my trailer used to be. I advised Shonda and Cunt Face to stay in the car, where it was warm while I investigated. We had kept Shonda in the dark about everything, so only God knows what she thought was going on. Maybe she wasn't thinking about it at all because she knew she was the cause of this. Who knows? I'm not a fucking psychic!

Anyway, I snatched up the box, tore open the lid and found what I was expecting to...another foot and another note. All it said was:

Go to your Mama's trailer. What's left of it.

I walked the short distance to the smoking, wet, charred remains of Mama's trailer and went inside. The smell of smoke was so strong--but I could also smell gasoline. Obviously, that is how the fire started.

It didn't take long for me to find the other box. It was in the living room, on what was left of Mama's coffee table. I opened it and inside was a hand and another note. I see that this person had a theme going.

This note was equally short.

Go to the bedroom.

My heart began to race so hard that I felt it throbbing in my throat. I opened the bedroom door. It was dark and there was no sign of another black box. However, on the bed was a huge tarp-covered mound. I tiptoed toward it, grabbed the corner of the tarp and just when I was about to rip it away, Cunt Face touched my shoulder.

I literally pissed in my panties and screamed.

"You fucking BITCH! You scared the piss out of me!" I clutched my chest, and took several deep breaths, trying to compose myself.

"Sorry--I got worried when I saw you come in here. What was in that box?"

"What do you think? Look."

I handed both boxes to Cunt Face and she dropped them in disgust soon after.

"Do you think..." She started, looking at the bed.

"There's only one way to find out," I said and then grabbed the tarp again and without hesitating, ripped it off the bed.

"Holy shit..." I said, stunned and horrified at the same time. Cunt Face had lost her balance and was holding the wall for support. I reached backwards so she'd grab my hand and she did. I needed support, too!

On the bed was PJ's footless and handless body. Well, he still had one hand left and in that fist was another note. I wasn't going to bother asking Cunt Face if she'd get it for me, so I became the man of the group and snatched it free and ran back to where I was standing--a safe distance away.

"What's it say?" Cried Cunt Face, terrified and sick.

I read it out loud. "It says: You were too late, but don't think you're off the hook. Bring my money before 7:00 p.m. or your Mama is next."

"Oh God, Trasha--I can't take this!" Cunt Face was a hysterical mess. She turned and ran out of the bedroom, toward the front door. 'Feets don't fail me now', I thought to myself and quickly followed her out of Mama's trailer and back to the car, where Shonda was.

"What the hell is going on, you two? I think I deserve to know!" She said, with a confused look on her face.

"We'll fill you in--but first, tell me what time it is!" I was not even trying to hide my fear anymore. It was too overwhelming. I'd never seen a dead body that close before, and definitely no one I've ever known, or had been MARRIED to for God's sake. It had shaken me up more than I ever imagined it would.

Shonda looked at her watch. "It's 6:00 p.m.. Why--afraid you'll miss Judge Judy?"

I put the car in reverse and floored it. We had no time to waste. We had to get to whoever had written those notes and killed PJ.

[To Be Continued...]

Love,

Trasha

The Black Box [Part Two]

2008-01-08T23:27:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

The last I told you earlier today, we were still at the truck stop, finishing dinner. I just opened--and promptly closed--the black box, which just made everyone at the table even more curious about the contents.

"Well," said Mama. "What is it?"

Shonda turned to me and added. "Yeah, was it a bomb? Was it money?"

Cunt Face, sensing my fright, said: "Trasha, how 'bout we go to the bathroom?"

I grabbed the black box and said to Mama and Shonda (as Cunt Face was dragging me away from the table) "I'll be right back!"

Cunt Face pushed me into the bathroom, turned and locked the door.

"What the hell is in that box?"

I opened it and showed her. She immediately puked (in the sink, not on ME, thank Jesus). She was breathing hard, trying to gather herself together.

"Oh.my.God. They're dismembering him. What mess have you gotten yourself into, Trasha? Who have you pissed off now?"

She was right: this whole mess was my fault. If it wasn't for me, PJ would not have been kidnapped (though I take my hat off to the men strong enough to cart him--all 700+ lbs. of him out of the trailer park without making themselves obvious). If it wasn't for me, Mama's trailer would have never burned down. I brought this on my family, so it was up to me to get them out of it.

"This letter says I have 72 hours to get them $50,000! Cunt Face, even if I blew and screwed every cock in the metro Detroit area, I still wouldn't have that much cash! PJ is going to die--I believe them when they say they'll kill him!"

She slapped me. "Get a grip on yourself!"

I took some deep, calming breaths. I needed my wits about me. I needed to think clearly and rationally. I have gotten myself into and out of big, big trouble in the past and I know I can do it again. If there is one thing I am, it's a ~~whore~~ survivor!

"What am I going to tell Mama? This news could kill her. If this was a couple days ago, that would be another story, but we made up. And I just can't tell her about this."

"You're right, Trasha. We will not tell her what is in that box nor will we tell her what this letter said. It's better to leave her out of this. You and I will figure all of this out."

"What about Shonda? We can have her help us! She's tough and she's used to dealing with thugs--she lived in Section 8 housing for God's sake."

Cunt Face looked at me, like really intensely, but I knew she wasn't really looking at me, but more like looking through me.

"Hello?! Cunt Face!" I snapped my fingers in front of her face and she snapped out of her daze.

"Sorry. I was just thinking...don't you think the timing of all this is a bit odd?"

I gave him a 'Whatchu Talkin' 'Bout, Willis?' kind of look.

"Are you dense? You really can't put this together?"

I jabbed her in the tit. "Hey, don't get mean! Stop making me guess--I hate that shit!"

"All this shit started happening the moment Shonda showed up to your place. Didn't she say she is hiding out from her abusive boyfriend?"

"Well, yeah, he's abusive--but what does that have to do with me? Or PJ for that matter."

Cunt Face shook her head; I was annoying her. "She said he pissed off some dangerous people because he owes them money--money she stole from him! Since you are helping her out, by letting her hide out in your trailer, he is pissed at you."

"So he kidnaps my morbidly-obese husband, chops off his foot and then burns down my mother's trailer? Why wouldn't he just come over and say: 'Is Shonda here?'"

"Right, Trasha, because psychopaths are normally so logical."

She had a point--why didn't I see this sooner?

"But if he had Shonda, then we'd be out of all this. We'll just give him Shonda!" I was excited--this is exactly the answer.

"If we give him Shonda, he'll kill her. And you don't know he hasn't already killed PJ. There's no guaranteeing that he'll keep his word. This is why the cops and FBI won't give in to terrorists."

There was banging at the door. "Hurry up in there! Some people gotta pee!" It was some older-sounding lady.

"Hold your fucking horses, bitch!" I screamed back. Obviously, if I was done I would come out of the bathroom. HELLO!

"So what should I do then, Cunt Face? Ignore them and let them kill PJ? They know who I am--they will find me if they want to! Should I keep towing Shonda around so that I'm always in danger? What if they come after you, next? Or Mama?"

It's like the thought never occurred to Cunt Face, that she could be in danger.

"I see your point." She said.

We chewed our nails. We did that when we were nervous and we did it the same way, the same hand, the same fingers. Cunt Face then said: "Give me that letter."

I handed it to her and she stared at it, memorizing everything.

"Did you bother to look at the date on this letter?"

Date? There was a date? She handed it back to me and pointed to the date.

"That was yesterday, Cunt Face."

She nodded. "So you don't have three days to get them the money--you only have two. Well, today is almost over. You have one day."

I felt like my chest was unsure of whether to explode or implode. I've never had these feelings before--ever. I actually felt concern for PJ. And I felt like I had to help him. But why?! He never really meant much to me; I only used him. So what does it matter if someone hacks him up to bits (well, chunks)?

And then it dawned on me. I care because of Mama. And I then realized how much I really do love Mama--no matter how much or how badly we fight. She can bust a beer bottle and slice my face and I would still love her. Well, as long as the slice healed without a scar. Hey, this faces brings home the bacon, people!

The old lady was banging again. I opened the door and glared at her.

"What the hell was going on in there? Some kind of sex party?!" She was shaking her fist.

We pushed passed her, clearly annoyed with her, but not concerned enough to yell back at her.

Mama was staring at us and so was Shonda. And so was Starla for that matter, though I'm sure she had no idea what the hell was going on, being a baby and all.

"Listen," I said, in an authoritative tone. "We're going to head down to the new trailer park and settle in and get a good night's rest. We'll talk about this box tomorrow morning, but Mama, Shonda, I don't want you two to concern yourself with it until then. Does everyone know how to get to where we're going, Downriver?"

Everyone nodded. Starla smacked Mama's shellacked hair.

"Then let's get out of here." And we left.

We're finally at the new place now and it's like an entirely different world. This trailer park has GRASS and FLOWERS and no one has any rusted cars parked anywhere. No babies were running around in their diapers, with dirty faces and hands. No cop cars. No one sitting on their porches with shotguns. It's a clean, calm place.

They're going to throw us out any day now! But I'll worry about that later. I have more important things to think about right now. I would be lying if I said I wasn't petrified. I really, really am. I've never been closer to shitting my pants than I am right now.

Love,

Trasha

The Black Box [Part One]

2008-01-08T23:27:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

We all met up at the truck stop for dinner and to make sure we all knew where we were going. I wanted to wait until we were all finished eating before I brought up the black box I found with my name on it.

I lit a cigarette, sipped my coffee and stared at the box on the table. We were all staring at it--even Starla!

"What do you think is in there, Trasha?" Cunt Face asked, apprehensively.

"There's only one way to find out," I said, reaching for it.

"Wait!" Mama said, bouncing Starla to keep her calm. "What if it's a bomb?! This shit happens Trasha; there are terrorists everywhere! George Bush said so himself!"

I gave her a 'Bitch, are you crazy?' look.

"She's right, Trasha," Shonda chimed in. "You never know--it could be a bomb."

"Well, then you big babies can LEAVE the table, but I'm opening this motherfucking package. It could be drugs! It could be MONEY!"

That seemed to shut them all up. So I opened it and after seeing what was inside, I wished it had been a bomb.

There were two things in the box--one item was a letter, which I grabbed and handed to Cunt Face. The other item was a severed foot and I didn't need a DNA expert to tell me whose foot it was.

It was PJ's.

I closed the box.

"What's in there, Trasha?" Mama asked.

I looked at Cunt Face. "Maybe I should read the letter."

She looked at me. I told her in my mind that it had to do with PJ. Cunt Face's expression changed and she handed me the letter. Here is what it said:

Dear Trasha,

You don't know me, but I know you. If you want to see your fat husband alive, I suggest you meet me at 3535 Cass Ave. with $50,000 in cash within 72 hours. If you get the cops involved, you'll find a 700 lb. corpse at your doorstep next.

Tick Tock

What am I going to do?!

[To Be Continued...]

Love,

Trasha

Beginning of And End [Part Two]

2008-01-08T23:27:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

Let me continue where I left off before...

When we pulled into Jackson Trailer Park, all hell had apparently broken loose. There was smoke everywhere and fire trucks, cops, the whole lot. The trailer park was ablaze.

"Holy shit," I whispered. "What the fuck is going on?"

We were permitted to go to my trailer since it was, thankfully, not one of the burning trailers. Most of my neighbors weren't so lucky. The trailer park looked like Armageddon.

Mama's trailer, which was a few down from mine, seemed to be the worse off--burned completely to the ground. I'd say the fire started there and quickly spread in a circle, only sparing a few homes.

Mama and Starla came out of the trailer and met Shonda and me outside.

"Oh, Trasha--I think it's a sign. I think someone is after me! First, they take PJ and now they burn down my trailer! Who would do this to me, Trasha?! Who would target me?!"

"I don't know Mama, but I agree--it is a sign. A sign for us to get our fat asses Downriver. Let's leave this fucking trailer park and never look back!"

And so we prepared to move.

Thankfully, it didn't take long since we're picking up the entire trailer and moving it. Cunt Face and Shonda worked quickly at unhooking everything outside and checking the tires underneath the trailer (which you normally can't see when the trailer has it's "skirt" on). When they told me that they were done and the trailer was hitched up to a truck Cunt Face rented (or stole--I don't know and I don't care), I went outside to take in a place I would never call home again.

The air was filled with smoke, fire and hollering. People were freaking out, and rightfully so. One of my neighbors had the nerve to say to me:

"How come you got off so lucky? I wish it was YOUR house that burned down and not mine, you miserable BITCH!"

"You're only talking shit because the cops are here." I replied, more concerned with closing this chapter in my life than getting in a fight--though I would have kicked the shit out of her old ass. I don't care if she's 70!

I thought back to all the years I spent in this one place and though I am nervous about what's to come, I'm ready to leave this fucking dump.

Cunt Face came over to me and told me it was time. I watched her start the truck and begin pulling the trailer out of the lot that it's always been in. Once the trailer was out of the trailer park, I got in my car and noticed something sitting in the almost empty lot (there was trash and shit lying around--I'm not picking it up).
There was a black box with my name on it. The cops were around so I didn't want to open it (in case someone was gifting me drugs), so I put it on the passenger seat and set off to follow Cunt Face, Shonda, Mama and Starla to our new home.

Love,

Trasha

Beginning of And End [Part One]

2008-01-08T23:26:00.002-08:00

Hey Friends,

I tell you, sometimes NOTHING happens in this trailer park and other times the drama is non-stop. This week it's been the latter for sure.

Mama and Starla moved in--Cunt Face giving up her room for them. She and I are now roommates in the other bedroom and Shonda is still on the couch. I want to post a NO VACANCY sign in case anyone else thinks they can shack up here. This is a SINGLE-WIDE TRAILER, people!

I also got a call from Jerry, the director of "My Little Pony Fucker II" and he said we had to move up the shoot since Raul is set to be sent to the glue factory soon. So Shonda and I got all dolled up (and all douched and enema-d out) and went to the studio.

We filmed some scenes of me, dressed as a little girl, in my room playing with my dolls when suddenly, my best friend Shonda comes over. She is also dressed like a little girl and we sit together to play. One thing leads to another and there we are--fingering, licking and kissing each other. Now, I've done pretty much everything sexual you can think of, but this was my first lesbo encounter. I don't know why I was so scared to do it--it was actually really HOT! So anyway, we did those lesbian scenes and then I ask Shonda if she wants to see "my pony".

The other scenes, with Raul, were shot on a set that is supposed to look like "my Daddy's barn". We brush Raul's mane and take turns riding him when Shonda points out that "Pony has really big thing down there between his legs! Bigger than my DADDY's thing!"

I say: "Oh yes, it's very big--but watch me: I can get it EVEN BIGGER!"

Then I display the talents that got me this job in the first place. I did things to that pony that would make your head spin. Needless to say, I did more than earn my paycheck for this movie, as did Shonda.

On the way back to my place, she said:

"This whole porn thing ain't half bad. It's fun work and you get BANK for it. I don't know about doing scenes with animals though--I draw the line there--but doing those lesbians scenes weren't as bad as I thought."

"Yeah, I will have to agree with you there--though I don't mind the animal stuff. I was shocked that those lesbo scenes didn't make me gag!"

"Hey-my pussy's clean! Ain't nothin' to gag about."

When we pulled into Jackson Trailer Park, all hell had apparently broken loose. There was smoke everywhere and fire trucks, cops, the whole lot. The trailer park was ablaze.

[To Be Continued]

Love,

Trasha

Tragedy Strikes Jackson Trailer Park [Part Two]

2008-01-08T23:26:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

Let me pick up where I left off in my last entry.

...And then Mama saw Cunt Face for the first time since she's been back.

And then she fainted. Her tiny, 3 feet high (minus hair and heels) frame tumbled onto the floor. Cunt Face and I both bent down and dragged Mama into a kitchen chair. I took the liberty of slapping Mama across the face, like they do on TV when someone faints. Cunt Face got Mama a cup of water, which she accepted once she gained consciousness again.

"Lord, have mercy! Trasha, did you drug me? I swear to God I'm looking at TWO of you! And the other you is thinner and prettier!"

"Mama, you're not seeing double. It's me, Cunt Face." Cunt Face crouched down so she and Mama were eye-to-eye. Mama reached her hand out and touched Cunt Face's face, not believing her eyes.

"Cunt Face? My son? But you look like a woman...I don't get it--what's going on here?!"

I left Cunt Face and Mama alone in the kitchen so she could get the whole Tranny Talk. Shonda was rubbing her eyes, finally waking up.

"What the hell is going on in there?" She asked, drowsy.

I lit a Virginia Slim and plopped down into my recliner.

"She's getting the run down about her tranny son. I wasn't expecting her to faint--just lose her mind! The fainting was fun, though. I slapped her silly!"

Shonda laughed nervously and then went to the window and peaked outside.

"Damn girl, chill out!" I said. "You really are scared of that man of yours."

She scanned the trailer park through the blinds. "Caine ain't no fucking joke, I'm telling you right now."

"All this because you were taking some money from his wallet? I mean, that sounds pretty insane!"

Shonda turned to me and the look on her face told me there was MUCH more to the story than she was letting on.

"Tell me the truth, Shonda. The WHOLE truth."

She sat, perched on the edge of the sofa. "Well, the money thing is just a tiny bit of it. Everything went to hell the day Cain's father died."

"Why, did you kill him?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Kinda. He died while we were fuckin'."

"That's gotta be an ego-boost! You fucked him to death. That's some powerful pussy."

Shonda laughed. "Oh Trasha, if only things were that easy. Cain was furious, as you would imagine. I mean, he did walk in on us and all and there was his daddy--his dick as hard as a rock, mind you--lying there. Dead. I got my ass whooped long and hard that night--even ended up in the hospital. Well, shortly after, I turned up pregnant. All I heard my entire pregnancy was that Cain thought the baby wasn't his and we just found out that his worst fears were correct. Mar-kay is not his son. Mar-kay is his half-brother. Now, he loves Mar-kay regardless, thank God, but he doesn't love me. He hates me and add me stealing his money on top of that and that makes me a pretty much dead bitch. That's why I gotta leave, Trasha. He will kill me if he finds me!"

"Now, you're sure that this is it--nothing else?"

She bit her lower lip. "Well...I wasn't just skimming money out of his wallet and putting it in the mattress. I was spending it and I ran through his money like water. The motherfucker is pretty much broke and now he owes people money. He owes people money that will kill him if he doesn't get it."

"Lord, Shonda--how much money did you spend?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea, but it was in the thousands, I know that much. This is Korean hair!" She said, pulling on her long weave. "This shit ain't cheap!"

I heard stirring in the kitchen. Mama and Cunt Face were leaving the kitchen.

"So?" I asked, looking at Mama. "Have you properly met your new daughter?"

Mama looked thoroughly confused and discombobulated. "Well, I don't understand it--but I will try to! What other choice do I have? I'm not going to lose you two--you are my world! You both sure know how to put your Mama through the wringer!"

Cunt Face and I exchanged glances, telling each other in our minds that she ain't seen nothing yet.

Love,

Trasha

Tragedy Strikes Jackson Trailer Park [Part One]

2008-01-08T23:25:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

Shit has hit the fan in a big way. Mama just came over, her hair not even teased, her makeup not touched up--a wreck, basically. When Mama leaves the house without a full face of makeup, hair as high as the heavens, you can be sure trouble is afoot.

PJ is missing. How a 700 lb. man turns up "missing" is beyond me and Mama has no idea, either. It's pretty obvious that he didn't leave on his own--someone (actually, a few people) must have moved him. But the question is: did PJ just get sick of Mama and have some people help him leave her or is there something more sinister going on?

Shonda was asleep on the couch when Mama burst in. I brought her into the kitchen so we could talk and not wake Shonda or Cunt Face with all the commotion.

"Listen, we'll find PJ, ok? I mean, he's huge--it's not like he could travel far!"

"Trasha, he didn't leave me--I know he didn't. He needs me and we never fight or nothin'. There is something else going on here--who would target PJ? Who would target me?"

I thought for a moment. Lord knows I've got a laundry list of enemies--especially from my past as the creator of the Trasha White Home Abortion Kit. Could an angry customer of mine be taking out their vengeance on Mama, by kidnapping PJ?

Then I thought of my music career. Mama is one of The Cunty Bitches--perhaps people are disillusioned and think we have money or something.

Then I thought of the work Mama and I do on the street and at the truck stop. Could one of Mama's clients have fallen in love with her and is stalking her? Maybe getting rid of PJ made them think they'd have a chance with her?

"What about Starla? Is she ok?" Come on folks, it's not all stone in my chest--I do have a heart. I carried that damn baby to term for God's sake.

"Starla is fine, but I'm worried that something could happen to her, too. We can't stay in that trailer anymore--I'm scared!"

Jesus Fucking Christ! I mean, this is a single-wide trailer and can only hold so many people...but Christian compassion overcame me when I said:

"You two are moving in here, then. Besides, we'll be out of here this week anyway. We can all move Downriver together--one big happy family, Shonda included. She's run into some hard times of her own, so she's coming with us, too."

Mama looked truly stunned. "Are you serious? You'd let me and Starla move in here? Really?"

I grabbed Mama's tiny hands in mine. "Yes, I'm serious. You are my Mama and my band mate. We need to stick together. We'll put our collective heads together and figure out what's going on. We'll track PJ down."

"Should we get the cops involved?" Mama must be scared if she's willing to get police assistance.

"Let's not get crazy, Mama. None of us want the cops around--NONE OF US!"

Like a spell was being lifted, she shook her head. "You're right--what was I thinkin'? Oh, God, Trasha--I can't take this!"

And she started to sob. I held her and patted her back as her heaving subsided.

And then Mama saw Cunt Face for the first time since she's been back.

[To Be Continued]

Love,

Trasha

Panic In Detroit [Part Two]

2008-01-08T23:25:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

Let me pick up where I left off with Shonda.

"I'm going to help you, Shonda. I have an idea--now you gotta tell me what you think."

She sat and listened as I told her our plan about moving and starting a new life in another town, where life would be easier than Warren. I told her about my porn film and the terms that I had to agree to in order to be cast in the movie. I also told her how doing this film meant the difference of us staying or us getting the hell away from 8 Mile and Van Dyke.

"I'll do it Trasha. I'll do it because I need the money just as much as you do. But there is only one condition to me doing this flick."

Oh, lord--what could it be? I was bent over a barrel really and pretty ready to do whatever I had to in order to secure Shonda for those lesbian scenes.

"Take me with you. Fuck Mar-kay, Caine can have him. But I gotta get out of here Trasha--it ain't safe for me here no more. I will do this film but you have to take me with you Downriver."

I had no other choice, but I would have let Shonda come regardless. What's one more person living with me? I'm used to Cunt Face and I really just get lonely if I'm left to my own devices for long.

"You got it girl! We'll be like the Golden Girls--you, me and Cunt Face all living together. It'll be fun--just like a sitcom!"

"How many of those Percocets you had, Trasha?"

I smiled. "You think I actually count them?"

Love,

Trasha

Panic In Detroit [Part One]

2008-01-08T23:25:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I was preparing for bed when my phone rang. The only people that normally call me at such a late hour are Mama and Cunt Face, but Cunt Face was at home, asleep, so my last guess was Mama. I was wrong--it was Shonda. And she was frantic!

"Hey girl, slow down," I said, pulling on my house dress. "What's going on?"

"Trasha, oh shit girl, Trasha, I gotta get out of my house, I can't stay here. Can I come and stay at your crib tonight? Oh, lord, Trasha--I'm in trouble!"

While I wasn't in the mood to deal with any domestic disputes, I knew I needed Shonda to agree to do my film with me, so I couldn't piss her off now.

"Sure," I said, begrudgingly. "You can crash on the couch if you need to. You and that baby."

"I ain't takin' Mar-kay with me. He staying here. Tell me how to get to your place--I'll be there in ten minutes."

I gave her directions and no sooner had I opened a Coors Light came a nervous knock at my front door. It was Shonda and she had a busted lip and looked a frightened mess. I grabbed her, because she was in a daze, and dragged her into the trailer before slamming the door shut and locking all six locks. I made a mental note about where my pistol and bullets were in case shit got crazy up in this bitch!

"Take these," I said, handing Shonda two Percocets and a beer. "This will chill you right out so you can tell me what the fuck is going on. You got me scared, Shonda!"

She took the bills and took a long drink from the beer. She set it down, fumbled in her purse and produced a blunt. With twitchy fingers she managed to light it and pull hard on it before passing it to me.

"I fucked up, Trasha, I really did and now I'm going to die."

I hit the blunt. Holding the smoke in, I asked: "How did you fuck up? What are you talking about? Who's gonna kill you?"

"Cain. Cain's gonna kill me. That's my baby daddy, the dude I stay with. He found out I've been skimming money from his wallet and stashing it in the mattress. I ain't got no job Trasha and I need a safety net, in case something happens to Cain and me and I have to fend for myself. Well, Cain found the money somehow, put two and two together and whipped my ass good! What am I going to do, Trasha? You don't know Cain--he's not a nigger to be fucked with. He will blow my fucking head off without thinking twice!"

"He don't know where I live, right?" Well, I had to know!

She shook her head, "Nah, he ain't got no idea and he'd never think of looking for me in a trailer park--no offense. I'm sure he's out, scouring the hood, just waiting to find me and put a bullet in my ass!"

Shonda broke down and started sobbing and I knew this was hard for her...as hard as it would be for me to be so vulnerable as to cry in front of someone. I don't think I ever have, now that I come to think of it. And I got the feeling this wasn't something Shonda was used to doing either. I could see her, trying with so much effort to pull herself together and put her emotions in check. Soon, her tears were dry and she was back to being stone again.

I put my arm around Shonda and told her with absolute honesty:

"I'm going to help you, Shonda. I have an idea--now you gotta tell me what you think."

[TO BE CONTINUED]

Love,

Trasha

Wheels Are In Motion

2008-01-08T23:24:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

Cunt Face and I had a long talk and she agrees that it's time to spread our collective wings and try out a new town. We're not going too far and if it all goes to Hell, we can always come back--there will always be a lot to rent in this shit hole, that's for sure. Someone's always dying or their trailer gets repossessed...this place has a higher turn over then a 711.

We decided the sooner, the better--like after I make my movie this Thursday. We'll be all packed up so after I wrap the shoot, Cunt Face and I will be on our way to our new trailer park. Actually, this place we're going to has ESTATES in the name. Fancy! I'll tell Mama what we decided tomorrow.

But there was something else I needed to do before I shoot the movie--I need to find a female co-star for the lesbian scene. I know who I'm going to call, but just hope she's open to the idea. If she won't do it, I'll have to give them back half the money they already pre-paid me, and that will fuck up this entire move.

Everything hinges on Shonda doing this film with me--everything. I don't like leaving matters in someone else's hands. I feel out of control and you all know I'm a bit of a control freak.

Until next time...

Love,

Trasha

Time to Move On?

2008-01-08T23:24:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

The big thing I missed about working in porn was the money. Nowhere else could you do a few hours of enjoyable work and come home with more than you'd make in a week at a normal 9-5 job. And since my triumphant return to the industry came with a DOUBLE PAYDAY, Cunt Face and I filled up the tank of my Ford LTD. II and drove four hours to the Windy City. That's right: The Cunty Bitches went to Chicago!

I always feel like a big star when I walk the streets of Chicago, shopping bags in tow. And now that Cunt Face is living as a woman, I have even more fun shopping! We both tried on so many outfits--we felt like we were reliving "Pretty Woman"--except no one threw us out of their shops for being trashy hookers!

We got all dolled up later that night and hit the town, like a couple of Big City Girls! We were fierce, flawless and any other "f" word you can think of. We drank MARTINIS (with olives) and gave people who weren't dressed as nice as us tons of attitude. Cunt Face was such a hit with the mens that we got free drinks all night! Now, that's my kind of tranny!

But we're back home now, back to reality. Sometimes I feel like I'm really getting above my raisin'. This trailer just isn't enough for me anymore--I want something else. A change of scenery perhaps? I don't know, but I need something that I'm not getting in Warren--at the truck stop, the bar, the alley behind White Castles.

And that's when Mama came by, as if she was sensing my unhappiness. She had a brochure with her for a trailer park in a city south of Detroit, in a more rural area of Michigan called Monroe. It looked like a lovely place--so different than Jackson.

"The lot rent is pretty much the same as here and they ain't got roaches and meth heads living there. I mean, we can easily move our trailers down there--and there are plenty of truck stops for us to get work in. It's perfect, Trasha--what do you say?"

It was like Jesus was smiling on me from above, telling my heart that it was time to go--to upgrade my life. I took the brochure, assured Mama I'd discuss this with Cunt Face and then walked her to the door. With my WebTv, I was able to do some research on this place called Monroe and found that it was the perfect place for a star of my caliber to live, to work and to make a life for myself. Mama was right--there were plenty of truck stops, rest stops, bars...there were so many more opportunities than what we had in Warren. AND, there were MANY VFW's and Moose Lodges for us to play at.

I will talk this over with Cunt Face and let you all know what we decide...what do you think: is it time for The Cunty Bitches to claim a new area as their own?

Love,

Trasha

...And Donkey Makes Three

2008-01-08T23:24:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

God damn, I am tired! Daddy just dropped me off a few minutes ago after a successful meeting with the porn director. It turns out the guy making this movie is the same guy who directed my very first kiddie porn flick (which I made at the age of 6) called "My Little Pony Fucker". His name is Jerry and he doesn't look much different now than he did over twenty years ago: still fat, still greasy, still rocking a handlebar mustache, still taking his bottom set of dentures out to get a reaction out of me. It was comforting, in a way, to see him again.

"Trasha, Trasha, Trasha!" He said, getting up from the cluttered desk in his office. He waddled over to me and bear-hugged me breathless.

"Hey Mr. Kowalski," I replied, moving in to kiss his cheek. He sensed my movement and turned his face so that my kiss found his mouth instead. Fucking pig!

"I can't believe you've decided to come back to the business. I mean, times are different now: I'm officially out of the kiddie porn business. The cops were all over us, you know, the same time your old man got arrested. No, I've moved on to do other fetish films and have been pretty successful with the bestiality circle. Did you tell Trasha much about the film?"

"No, no, I wanted you to fill her in on everything, Jerry," Daddy said, cracking open a warm Pabst Blue Ribbon that he got from a case on the floor next to Jerry's desk.

"OK, listen to this: we've decided to do a sequel to your very first film 'My Little Pony Fucker' since it's the 25th anniversary of it's release. The same star and co-star! Yes, believe it--Raul, the Burrow who played the part of the pony, is still alive and very well and eager to see you again, Trasha. He took a huge shit in excitement when I told him I was meeting with you today."

I thought back to the day we shot "My Little Pony Fucker". Everyone was so impressed that a girl my age could take that huge burrow cock with such ease--not to mention my amazing sense of balance. Yes, that was the day I knew I was a star and that was echoed at the premier of the film, which was held in an old warehouse on Cass Ave in Downtown, Detroit. Even though the whole affair was underground and hush-hush, they had me fooled. I was treated like Red Carpet Royalty when I made my grand entrance, dressed to the nines. That was the first night I did coke off a guy's cock.

Ah, memories.

"I'd love to do the film, Jerry--and I'd love to work with Raul again. You've gotten me all nostalgic, thinking back to the good old days. How can I ever repay you?"

He smirked and shifted in his chair. "Well, how 'bout letting me get a gander at that puss? You know, to make sure it's camera-ready."

I shaved just for this, I thought as I spread my legs, giving him a clear shot at my curtains of love. I toyed with my tampon string and slowly rubbed my clit.

"You wanna earn your red wings, Mr. Kowalski?" I said, doing my best little girl impression, seducing him the same way I did a quarter of a century ago.

His eyes lit up and widened and he was on his knees, lapping my bleeding cunt flaps in no time. He buried his face in and pulled out my tampon with his teeth. Then, he put it in his mouth, withdrawing it slowly before tracing it along the contours of his face. He sniffed it, like a cork, and then threw it into a garbage can near him.

"Come back next Thursday and bring someone if you can. We want to have you a do a lesbian scene and 3-way with Raul."

A lesbian scene?! I don't do no lesbian scenes! "Well, Mr. Kowalski, we're going to have to renegotiate my fee for this film if you expect me to do a lesbian scene. You do realize that not only am I fiercely heterosexual, but I'm also a Born-Again Christian!"

"We'll pay you double." Jerry said, flatly.

"Shall I be here before noon?" I asked, pulling my day planner from my purse.

Love,

Trasha

Wanna Check Out My "Back Door"?

2008-01-08T23:23:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

I bet you're not used to getting so many updates from me, are you? Well, you can thank the winter season for that. These are the days when I just want to curl up and stay away from the world. These are also the days when I get loaded before 11 a.m. What else am I going to do?

So I filled Cunt Face in on everything that's been going down. She's much more calm than me and understanding, so she's happy that I gave Mama another chance. Thankfully she is around to give me that other perspective...you know, a more sober one.

I am not going to confront Daddy with what I've learned, either. I will just keep that information in my back pocket until I need to use it. A woman must always have ammunition--can I get an amen, girls? Plus I don't want to fuck up the potential work coming my way, via Daddy and his many connections in the porn industry.

* * * *

I had to take a break--the phone rang and speak of the devil! It was Daddy. I was sweet as sugar and pie and told him how much fun I had the other night and blah blah blah--typical male ego-stroking chatter. He did have something very interesting to tell me:

I'M WANTED FOR A FILM!!!!

I don't know all the details yet, but I have to get purdied up so I can go meet with the director and Daddy. I'm sure I'll have to give the director a little "screen test", so I need to douche and do some Kegels. Oh, I'd better do an enema, too in case he wants to see how the "back door" is. ;) Cunt Face just said she'd help me with my makeup and picking out an outfit--maybe even letting me borrow one of her fierce new getups. I hope I can squeeze my ass into them!!!

WISH ME LUCK!!!

Love,

Trasha

Pint-Sized Redemption

2008-01-08T23:23:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I should get me a job working with Dionne Warwick. Or be the new Miss Cleo. Shit, I'll settle for being the new Pet Psychic, but my point is I can see things and when Mama scuffed her tiny little miget feet up the stairs to my trailer door, I knew exactly how our meeting would unfold.

She looked like a fucking chow, a giant black puffball in her fur parka. She unraveled herself and miracle of all miracles, her hair managed to hold its beehive shape; she always was the Queen of Backcombing.

"You look like one of those Vegas acts--where the midgets impersonate celebrities. You could be Amy Winehouse in fifty years."

"I'm only twice her age!" Screeched Mama, waving an acrylic nail clad finger.

"Well, you look like shit."

Mama dismissed me--she was used to be abuse after all these years: this was a pretty civil interaction for the two of us.

"I came here to make peace," she said, hopping up on the sofa, her itty bitty legs poking just cover the coushin she sat on. She was of course wearing stilletos--even in the snowy Midwestern weather. Between her shoes and her hair, she gained over a foot! To a midget, an extra foot in height is quite important. Dunk her in some water and she looks like a Vienna sausage, the way she practically paints on those lycra jumpsuits she loves to wear.

"Peace? You didn't seem so peaceful the other night, when you were trying--so desperately, so pathetically--to kick my ass, right there on the dance floor at the Memphis Lounge! What were you trying to do--embarass me in front of my cutomers? I turn tricks in that parking lot!"

"So do I--and if it wasn't for me, you'd never have been able to whore at the Memphis Lounge. Or the truck stop. I got you into the fold; I put my time in on the streets so that you could just mosey on in. And how do you thank me?"

I towered over her, my arms crossed. "Thank you? For what?! You honestly think a big, fat, drunk trucker wouldn't rather rub his greasy mitts all over these tator tots? Look at you! You're nothing more than a fetish. I've got mass appeal!"

"Well, you got me there: do you have A LOT more mass appeal, heavy on the ass!"

I scowled at her. "Eat shit and die." Men love junk in the trunk--that's what Shonda says and she knows: she's black!

"So you don't want to make peace with your own mother? Think of your brother--think of the band! It's you that's tearing this family apart!"

"Did you forget that you STOLE my husband? Oh, and what about my BABY?!"

"I didn't steal your damn baby--I SAVED her is what I did! You have no idea what those creeps that bought her on the black market had planned for her. Let's just say she would have followed in your foot steps and I will be damned if I was going to sit by and let that happen again."

"Are you talking about...kiddie porn?"

"Yes, Trasha--kiddie porn! Your daughter Starla was going to become the first infant porn star and you can thank your father for that."

"Well, I thank Daddy for my career in kiddie porn--I'd have been nothing without him!"

"I'm not talking about you Trasha; the world doesn't fucking revolve around you! I'm talking about Starla. Who do you think bought your precious bundle of joy? It was your father! He arranged it, from prison. Your legacy as the top kiddie porn artist was about to be reclaimed by none other than your very own infant daughter!"

This news hit me like a brick. I did not foresee this. I had to sit down.

"...Daddy? He was going to...betray me? And to think, I let him fuck me in the ass the other night!"

"Really? He made you do anal, too? God, I hated when he'd do that to me. He'd use butter as lube!"

"Back to me, mother! How can you just drop all this on me? You're trying to turn me against him; you're jealous of our relationship. Oh, you're slick lady, but not slick enough."

She was gravely silent. She wasn't lying. "It's true, Trasha. But I stopped him and...well, it's my way of righting the wrongs from the past. I never should have let him turn you into a kiddie porn star, or a hooker or junky. I sat idley by, too fucked up and drunk and stoned to care about anything or anyone except myself. I'm sorry for that, Trasha. I really, really am."

"What are you sorry for? I don't regret the past at all--it's made me into the person I am today. And I don't know about you, but I think I'm fucking GREAT! I'd never be able to fuck as good as I do if it wasn't for Daddy and my childhood porn career. I cherish those times!"

Mama shook her head. She just didn't get it, I could see it in her mascara-caked eyes.

"Well, ok, fine, let's say I believe you about Starla, that you did a good thing for her. What about PJ? You let me think he was dead! Why did he fake his death? Why haven't I heard from him? And how could you MARRY him? We're not even divorced!"

She looked down at her acrlyic nails, picking at the Christmas tree applicee. "I lied. We ain't married. But I do love him, Trasha. Always have. Always will. I like having someone to take care of. I know he's bedridden and can't do anything for hisself, but that's where I feel useful, you know? I mean, I sing in the band with you, so I feel useful on harmonies and I feel useful when I'm turning tricks at the bar or truck stop...but it doesn't fulfill me, you know? But taking care of PJ: scrubbing him, powdering him, feeding him--all the time feeding him--even wiping his big fat ass...he needs me and you never gave a God-damn about him. Even when he could walk and wasn't morbidly obese. If he didn't serve you, you ignored him. But not me. We're in love Trasha and if you'd stop being so concerned about your ego, maybe you'd see that."

She was right. She was making perfect sense. What was I angry for? Why couldn't I see how my mother was trying to change? She was doing everything in her incredibly small power to become someone new. And who was I, Trasha White--Born Again Christian and Internet Celebrity--to deny her redemption?

"You're back in the band, Mama!"

She beamed and threw her arms around my neck. "Oh, thank you Trasha! I swear you won't regret it. I'll sing my ass off! Our next album will be even better than our first, I know it!"

So Mama is back in the Cunty Bitches and it's a trio again. However, I never did tell her about Cunt Face and his impending sex change. Perhaps the future for the Cunty Bitches isn't so certain afterall...

Love,

Trasha

I Spoke Too Soon...

2008-01-08T23:22:00.002-08:00

Hey Friends,

Clearly, I spoke too soon about having nothing to report to you! I just got a phone call from Bonnie. Get this--she wants to get together and TALK! I knew the bitch would come crawling back to me and I'm sure it's about getting back into the band. Part of me wants to stick to my guns and keep hating her and another part, the business side, thinks that we could really use her on harmonies. But my mind isn't made up yet. If she wants to be in this band again, she'll need to GROVEL and grovel GOOD!

She wanted to know if it was ok if we met at a neutral location. I told her it was too fucking cold and I wasn't leaving my fresh clean and WARM trailer for anything, especially not to talk to HER. She asked if she could come over and I said: "Sure, I've got five minutes to spare--and then you're out!"

Now, before you go off throwing the Bible in my face, talking about honoring thy mother and thy father, you need to understand that Bonnie is a mean, selfish bitch and deserves NONE of your sympathy. I can see right through her pathetic attempts to seem like a concerned mother or a doting wife. She only cares about advancing her own life, with little to no regard for anyone else.

What can I say: like mother, like daughter.

Love,

Trasha

Housecleaning is like Masturbating...

2008-01-08T23:22:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I was just thinking that it seems like forever since I have had a pregnancy scare. How odd it is to just live and not constantly worry that you're "with child"--or as I call it "fucked". Now that I think about, my pussy hasn't be filled with a hunk of manmeat since...well, since before I was thrown in prison! My, how time flies.

I was reminded that I am indeed NOT knocked up when my period came today. I am in such pain, it's like my uterus is seeking revenge on me for beating it up so terribly all these years.

I explained to Cunt Face that I feel like my uterus is being smashed into smithereens, which I wouldn't really mind IN THEORY, but since it's IN MY BODY, it fucking blows. He she doesn't know how lucky she is to not have a womb to deal with on a monthly basis.

But it's great having her around--especially since she totally cleaned and organized the place from top to bottom. This single-wide trailer has never looked better. I may even consider it INHABITABLE. It's so nice not having to walk around big piles of junk or stare at a sink full of dishes that I hadn't touched in Jesus-knows-how-long.

"A disorganized house is the sign of a disorganized mind," Cunt Face said as she Windexed/Pledged/PinSol'd her way around the trailer. That smell--that smell of CLEAN...it is great! Too bad it's such work to keep that up. I mean, I have far more important things to do than clean up after myself. Housekeeping is like masturbating--why bother when there are plenty of Mexicans willing to do it for you?

But she may have a point--I have always been so scattered. Perhaps my messy existence is cause for my life constantly being in turmoil. Or perhaps the world just really is out to get me!

Oh, listen to this--someone actually thinks I should put my blog together into some kind of BOOK! Y'all are crazy--who would want to read MY blog as a book? Who the fuck am I--Bridget Jones?! I mean, I've always wanted to write my memoirs and Jesus knows I've got nothing against product-whoring, but still...what a silly idea!

That's all for now...not much to report today. But it's never quiet for long in this trailer park. Until next time.

Love,

Trasha

***UPDATE: A reader asks: "How can you say you haven't been fucked when you fucked your Daddy the other day?! What gives?!"

My Response: DADDY WANTED ANAL and anal he got!!! Hey, I need the money...

Resolutions are for Pussies!

2008-01-08T23:21:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

I find New Year's resolutions to be a waste of time, so I won't bother to make any. I'd rather my goals or plans. Cunt Face loves to do a big huge New Year's cleaning, so I left her to do what she loves while I spent the day thinking. What does 2008 hold for me and what can I MAKE 2008 do for me?

Of course, my favorite way to think is stoned, drunk and after a nice long fuck. I wasn't in the mood to turn a trick, but am always in the mood to get fucked UP, so I called my new in-person friend Shonda and asked what she was doing.

"Hey Girl--I just put Mar-kay down for a nap and I'm fittin' to smoke a blunt. How bout you meet me at that truck stop you love on 8 Mile and I'll bring you to my crib. We can even have something to eat first--I'm starvin'! Mar-kay will be out like a light for an hour or two--Robotussin puts him out cold."

"Is he sick?" Like I cared, but it seemed like the right question to ask.

"Nah--I just need a fuckin' break every now and again!"

I knew there was a reason I liked Shonda so much!

Cunt Face dropped me off at the truck stop and I got Shonda and I a booth by the window, which was spotted with bullet holes. It was freezing outside and some of the frosty air came through those bullet holes, making my nipples hard!

Shonda showed up in no time and we had burgers, fries and coffee. I filled her in on all that had happened since we met at the welfare office.

She dipped a fry in some katsup. "A tranny? Damn--that's some heavy shit right there. I feel for your brother--I mean your sister. It has got to be rough to be a tranny--and in Detroit? Shooooot."

"I know, right! Lucky for him, he's gorgeous as a chick and you wouldn't even know he was a tranny unless someone told you. And I aint' telling nobody shit--I got enough trouble at that trailer park."

Our conversation inevitably shifted to something at the forefront of everyone in Michigan's mind: the economy, the lack of jobs--what we need to do to make it in a rich man's world.

Shonda looked around, to see if we were being listened to. "Well, I tell you what I do and you don't seem very judgemental..."

"Oh, please! I won't judge..."

Her voice came to a hush. "I strip!"

My expression didn't change. This was her shocking way of making money?

"Oh, lord please! You might as well tell me you work at a bank."

Shonda looked at me like she wanted me to top her secret. I rolled up my sleeves!

"Let's see--I turn tricks: right in this parking lot as a matter of fact and sometimes at the Memphis Lounge. But I used to bring in the bacon when I was little, doing porn and my Daddy just got out of prison and we are going to get back into the business. There is some serious money in porn and I'm ready to get back in the game!"

Shonda gave me a "are you serious, bitch?" kind of look. I knodded to tell her, "yes, bitch--I am serious!"

"Porn, eh?"

I sipped my coffee and said matter-of-factly. "Porn."

I could hear the gears turning in Shonda's brain. "You let me know how that shit goes--if there's money in it, I may be interested!"

I smiled. I would love to welcome Shonda into the fold!

We went back to Shonda's place and sure enough, Mar-kay was passed out good on the couch. She put a rolled up towel next to him, so he wouldn't roll off. I envied her maternal instinct--she cared for him so much!

We walked passed him and went into the bathroom. Shonda closed the door and turned on the radio. Next to the radio was the blunt she mentioned, which she smeared honey on.

"Honey? Won't that ruin the blunt?" I was dumbfounded!

"Bitch, please! This makes it smoke real real slow. And it smells like marshmellows. Smell!"

The bitch wasn't crazy after all. It smelled GREAT and did smoke much slower than the joints Cunt Face rolls. Her weed was also much, much better than the crap we're forced to smoke.

"How DO you afford weed this good?" I was in awe.

"Girl, my man gets it for me! He sells it and he gives me as much as I want." She opened one of the drawers beneath her bathroom sink and pulled out a baggie full of weed--at least an ounce!

"Here you go, bitch," Shonda said, throwing the baggie into my lap. "Don't say I never gave ya nothin'."

I was stunned. If I were a lesbian, I'd totally be eating Shonda's cunt right about now! I could tell this was the start to a beautiful, beauitful friendship!

Love,

Trasha

Daddy’s Little Girl

2008-01-08T23:21:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

I'm such a spiteful bitch! But I'll come back to that soon enough.

So Daddy made good on his ~~threat~~ promise to come over for a little "family reunion". Don't judge me--I have bills to pay! OK, so I don't so much PAY my bills as I do buy stuff for myself. But now that I've got a new purpose in life, I need all the cash I can get for myself and for Cunt Face.

When Daddy came over, I had Cunt Face answer the door. Call me a troublemaker, but I couldn't resist seeing the look on my Daddy's face when he was greeted by his transsexual son.

"Trasha, is that you?" he howled, pleased. I soon appeared behind my former-brother, now twin sister and said: "Guess again!"

Daddy's face, worn by age and bad living, twisted into an expression I couldn't figure out.

"Come on in, Daddy. Meet your new daughter." I was loving this!

Daddy walked, slow and hard, up the steps of my trailer and into the small living room. He put his arms out toward me and said: "Give yer Daddy a big ole hug!" He was totally ignoring Cunt Face. Some things never change. Cunt Face took little notice and went into ~~his~~ HER bedroom (God, this is taking a lot of getting used to). Daddy and I were left alone--just as he wanted it and just as I preferred. I mean, I didn't need Cunt Face observing me at work and this was DEFINIATELY work.

"So, Daddy--can I offer you a drink?"

He removed his large parka (it was freezing outside) and made himself at home on the couch. Under the parka, he was wearing a flannel shirt and worn jeans, which weren't fitting his wide frame very well. Again, some things never change.

I fetched Daddy and myself two ice-cold Coors Lights. He snatched it greedily and took a few long drinks. I lit a Virginia Slim and went straight into Hooker Mode. For all you whores out there, you know exactly what I mean. I turned off the real Trasha and turned on the Working Trasha.

"It's lovely to see you Daddy. How have you been?"

He smiled, a wide, wide smile--exposing some missing teeth and those that were left were stained with chewing tobacco.

"Oh, darling, I'm alive and just barely. But seeing you--well, it gets my heart racin' like nobody's business. I have missed my little girl."

I massaged my breasts. "I'm not so little anymore, Daddy."

His mouth salivated at the site of my Double D's.

"No, no siree, you are not! You put your ugly old mother to shame, I tell ya."

"Yes, she is an ugly little mutant, isn't she? She has a big old loose crotch and tits that sag to her knees. I, on the other hand, have always done my Kegel excercises and despite the size of my tits, they don't sag. I'm a lucky, lucky girl, aren't I?"

Daddy was getting excited, I could see it in his pants. However, I had other plans before he got some of my "homecookin'"--EVIL PLANS!. He downed his drink, staring at my jiggling boobs.

I grabbed his hands and pulled him to a standing position. I came in close, rubbing my thigh against his erection. I had him where I wanted him.

"How would you like to take your sweet little daughter out for some line-dancing?" With the last words, I did a little shimmy, working his cock in the process.

"Dancin'? Well, I was thinking more of a horizontal mambo..."

"Oh, we'll get there eventually--but I want to go out and have some fun first. I hear tonight is a big night at the Memphis Lounge and I'm ready to get down, dirty and WILD. Do you want me get WILD tonight, Daddy?"

He flexed his cock in excitement. "Do I ever!"

We had our coats on faster than you can say: HOME ABORTION! I snuck into Cunt Face's room to tell her that Daddy and I were going out and wouldn't be back for a while. I could tell she was picking up my vibe--we could reach each other's thoughts like that, you know. We are twins afterall.

So Daddy and I made the quick trip to the Memphis Louge--it's not far from my trailer park. And the place was PACKED. Even Shelley, the owner, was there and she waved at us the moment we walked in. Well, most people would have thought there were getting flipped off--Shelley only had a few fingers on one hand! Ha! I knew better and waved back.

And at the bar stood the entire reason I wanted to go to the Memphis Lounge: MAMA! This is where my "spite" comes in. I knew it would piss her off to no end to see me and Daddy together. She was always so jealous of our relationship and the fact that I had to pick up the slack in the bedroom department. When it comes to fucking, Mama just ain't got NOTHING on me!

"We must go say hi," I told Daddy. Too dumb to figure out the ways of women, he agreed. "Can you get us a couple beers, too? And a table?"

We went to the bar together, where Mama was. Daddy ordered our drinks and I turned to my egg-donor and said:

"Hello, darlin'. Nice to see you out and about! And with a baby and husband and all--it's a wonder you find time to whore around and get wasted."

Mama was already loaded and I probably should have known better than to fuck with her. Despite her height (or lack thereof--she's a fucking midget afterall), she really does pack a punch.

"Fuck you, you ugly bitch! I know what you're up to, bringing your daddy in here like this! You're trying to make me jealous and it AIN'T gonna work, you here? AIN'T.GONNA.WORK!"

Oh, but it was already working and I was JUST getting started.

"Now, why would I go and do a thing like that? I've got more class than that!"

Mama spit her beer all over me. "Class?! You gotta be hopped on pills, lady! You ain't got no class and never will!"

Daddy joined our conversation, handing me my beer.

"Hey Bonnie," he said.

She glared back. "Hey. So they let you out of prison? Morons!"

"Now, now, Mama--don't talk to my loving father like that. Daddy--it's time we hit the dance floor. I got some moves that I want to show you!"

"Lead the way darlin'," he turned back to Mama. "Later, Bonnie."

I looked back at Mama. She was gritting her teeth and glaring at me. I was loving every second of it!

Daddy and I made our way to the dance floor. Line dancing hadn't started yet--there were just a few couples shaking their booties to "Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under" by Shania Twain.

I started doing my thang--shaking my tits, shimmying this way and that, all around GETTING CRAZY and wild and showing the other bitches what was up. I may be fat, but I can move my fat body, let me tell you! Daddy was digging it but one person sure wasn't: MAMA!

She hopped down off the bar stool, with a beer in one hand. I was ready for her--we've been down this road before. She turned the bottle over and was holding it by the neck. As she approached me, she slammed it against a table, breaking most of it off. She was always like this when she was drinking!

"Come on you fat bitch, you want some of your Mama?!" She was bobbing and weaving like a prize fighter, holding her broken bottle aloft, waiting to strike.

"Listen, lady--I'm here with my date, trying to have a good time. Why do you have to be so hostile? Shouldn't you be at home, taking care of MY husband and MY baby?!"

"You ulgy BIIIIIIITTTTTTCCCCCCHHHHHHH!" She screamed, swinging wildy. Mama was tiny, so all I had to do was reach down and grab her forehead. Her tiny arms couldn't even get close to me. It was really a redicilous sight. Poor Mama was embarassing herself in front of everyone.

"I'll-get-you-you-fat-fucking-bitch!"

"Mama, Mama--is this any way for a MOTHER to act? Or a WIFE? You should be ashamed!"

She kicked her little legs--they came no nearer than her little arms. It was all I could do to hold myself together and not collapse in hysteria.

You just had to be there.

Love,

Trasha

The Difference a Day Makes

2008-01-08T23:21:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I was passed out in my recliner (what else is new) when I heard knocking on the door--in the wee hours of the morning. I did what any good Christian would do: I grabbed my pistol and yelled through the door: "Who the FUCK goes there?!"

"It's me," said a shivering, quiet voice. It was Cunt Face.

I threw open the door and there was my brother, shaking from the cold, his makeup running down his face. One of his high heels was also broken. I pulled him inside.

"Get in here! It's freezing outside!"

I grabbed the NASCAR blanket off the couch and wrapped it around him.

"No wonder you're freezing--you're dressed like a tramp! Where did you get that outfit by the way? It's FIERCE!"

Cunt Face started to sob and collapsed into my arms. Normally, displays of affection such as this would really make me clam up, but this was Cunt Face--my twin. Only he could show emotion with me and not make me turn to stone.

"I'm really sorry Cunt Face--I am. You know I love you and that it doesn't matter to me who or what you are. I love you no matter what and I know you'd accept anything about me. I guess part of me was just kind of jealous that you look prettier than me!"

He looked up at me. "I do?"

"Uh, yeah! Have you looked in the mirror?!"

"Well, I never thought I'd ever be prettier than you."

Cunt Face always knows what to say! We hugged and I sat him down on the couch and went to my bedroom to find him something warm to wear.

"Now, if you're going to be a lady Cunt Face, you need some of these: they are a staple in the wardrobe of the Midwestern woman!"

I handed him a sweatshirt and sweatpants. They were my new ones since I've lost so much weight. Actually, now that I think about it--Cunt Face and I are pretty much the same size now.

He changed in front of me and seemed more at ease now that he was warmed up some.

Next to my recliner there is a TV tray that I use as an end-table. I had rolled a big fat joint but never smoked it, since I had passed out before I got the chance.

"To new beginnings," I said and gave it to him to light.

He did so, happily. He puffed away on it then handed it back to me. I took a liberal hit and before I exhaled the smoke said:

"I have a new mission in life now. It's not a doublewide trailer or fame or fortune. My new goal is to get you a PUSSY! We'll make you a real woman in no time, Cunt Face." I exhaled a great white cloud that hung in the air. "And you know me--I get what I want, come HELL or high water."

Cunt Face grinned. "Are you serious? You're really ok with all of this?"

I thought for a second. Who I am to judge ANYONE on this planet? I follow the beat of my own drummer and so does Cunt Face. We are twins after all and he needs me more than anyone else in the world.

"Yes, I am serious. We will get you a pussy and some proper tits. I don't know HOW we'll get the money but we'll get it. I'm sure if we put our heads together, we can figure it out. And perhaps you can also help me to dress better and do my makeup better. You sure seem to have a knack for it!"

"It's a deal!" He seemed truly happy now and that made me happy.

"And from here on out, you are my sister Cunt Face. I will modify my pronoun usage accordingly."

He she pulled on the joint liberally and smiled. "To sisters."

So it seems my life has taken a dramatic turn yet again--but I love having a sense of purpose. And I feel the real Christian thing to do would be to help out my ~~brother~~ sister in her time of need. And if Christ doesn't like it, he can eat my pussy!

Love,

Trasha

Cunt Face Drops a Bomb on Me!

2008-01-08T23:20:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

Cunt Face just left, in a tearful panic. I'm still reeling from the news, from the talk we just had. I'm stunned--truly. I can barely light my cigarette and type on this WebTV at the same time. I have smoked an entire pack of Virginia Slims in the last six hours and I just opened pack 2. I popped two Percosets and downed at least 4 Coors Lights and still I am truly, truly stunned.

I'll rewind. The last thing I told you was that Cunt Face was in the shower. He was in there FOREVER--seriously, at least 2 hours. I banged on the door after about 40 minutes and asked if he was OK.

"Did you fall in?" I yelled through the bathroom door.

"I'm just cleaning up. I'll be out soon--jeez!" He sounded peeved--but what was I supposed to think? People really DO fall in the toilet!

I waited. And waited. And banged on the door. And yelled. He kept telling me he'd be out soon. At last, he woke me from the nap I was taking in the recliner.

"Trasha...I'm ready."

What I saw before my eyes left me slackjawed, hornswaggled, gobsmacked and all around shocked.

Cunt Face was dressed like a woman.

And he looked DAMN GOOD, too. Too good.

"What the hell--you kept me waiting two hours so you can put on a drag show for me? Seriously, Cunt Face! I haven't seen you in ages. I want to hang out--not watch you lip sync!"

His face was grave. I thought drag queens were supposed to be entertaining!

"I'm not in drag, Trasha."

First, I thought maybe it was a weird drug interaction I was having or worse.

"Am I having a stroke? I could swear I'm looking at my very own brother, dolled up like a glamorous LA woman! I mean, you look gorgeous!"

He sat down, quietly and began to speak.

"Trasha, I want you to listen to me with an open mind before you say anything. Just litsten--I know how hard it is for you."

It is SO hard for me to listen...I spend so much time waiting to talk that "listening" is just too much work.

"I left town, not just because of the cops and being afraid I'd get arrested and thrown in jail because of the meth lab--no, that was actually only a tiny part of the reason. The real reason is I needed time to think--the get my thoughts together."

Right, he said he was living in dumpsters and all that jazz...

"I have, after many, many, many years, finally accepted that I am Transgendered. To make it simpler: I'm getting a sex change."

SEX CHANGE?!

"I've always been a woman--inside. I just think I was born in the wrong body; I feel like I've been living with a birth defect and I'm getting medical assistance to correct it."

I.feel.faint.

"Can I talk now?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.

"Of course."

"I mean, are you really sure about this? I mean, you are a BOY! I know you are--we were in the womb together for god's sake. You are my twin brother and I think I would have KNOWN if something like this was going on with you. We have that twin bond thing, right? We took baths together as kids and I've heard about how hung you are and how good you are at railing the menz. Maybe you're having a nervous breakdown--I have pills if you need some. They really help me!"

Cunt Face had tears in his eyes. "Trasha, I really wish you could understand. I do. But my mind is made up--today, I begin officially living as a woman. I will start the process of getting my Sexual Reassignment Surgery. I've already been taking hormones for the last six months, but the change is so gradual that you couldn't really tell. Plus, I wore such baggy clothes so that you wouldn't be able to tell that my body was changing and that my breasts were beginning to grow."

I looked at his tits. They were spilling out of his low-cut top. They were hot. Too hot.

"And don't worry--I'm not changing my name or anything. I think Cunt Face is pretty gender neutral, don't you?"

I couldn't even process his question. My brother wants to become a woman--a HOT woman! Why couldn't he choose to be a spinster or librarian woman? Why a HOT woman? Why a hotter woman than ME? Thin, gorgeous, cute clothes and flawless makeup. Why not a frumpy old hag? WHY?!

"I don't know about all this Cunt Face. This is a LOT to take in. I mean, I doubt the church would be OK with something like this! It sounds STEEPED in sin!"

That did it for Cunt Face. He jumped to his pump-clad feet, snatched up his pocketbook and glared at me, fuming. "Listen, Trasha--I know this whole Christianity thing is your new flavor of the month, but don't fuck with me lady! I know you and I know who you REALLY are and it's not no fucking Bible-thumping Christian. So get off your fucking high horse and realize that I don't care if you accept me or not--I am going to live MY life and if you can't take it. FUCK. YOU!"

And he left, in a tearful panic. I feared for him--to be running around dressed like that in this trailer park. In this town. On this PLANET! People don't accept that kind of thing--how am I supposed to?

I don't know what to do or what to think y'all. HELP ME!

Love,

Trasha

CUNT FACE IS HOME!!!!!!!!!!

2008-01-08T23:20:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I had to tell you--CUNT FACE IS HOME!!!!! My queer twin brother, my other half, my voice of reason, my muse and pseudo-conscious is HOME! He looks beaten up by the world, let me tell you--I've never seen him so distressed. He is taking a shower right now and pulling himself together. He said: "We have to talk", which you all know is NEVER a good thing.

I'll give you all the details later!

Love,

Trasha

You’ll NEVER Believe This!!!!

2008-01-08T23:19:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

I need to give you the gossip about my Daddy that I promised yesterday. But before I get to that, I have some exciting news!

I HAVE A NEW FRIEND!!!!!

You are all my friends, but it's easier for me to make "fan friends" than in-person friends. Maybe it's because men just want to pound my puss and women are jealous of my gorgeous looks (oh my god--that sounds like a SONG--I will make a note to include those lines as lyrics)...So for me to make a new in-person friend is a BIG DEAL!!!

I met my new friend at the welfare office, where I was doing all my paperwork to get food stamps and such.

"You knew to all this?" Said a woman to my right, bouncing a baby on her knee.

"Well, yes and no--I've never gotten food stamps from the government, just from my neighbors in exchange for meth."

"Girl, you trippin! Lawd, lawd." She laughed loud and hard. I love when people think I'm funny! A moment later, she said: "My name Shonda and this here is my baby, Mar-Kay. Say hi to the lady, Mar-Kay!"

The baby giggled and I stuck out my hand, making sure to show off my new press on nails: "I'm Trasha and I sold my baby on the black market."

Shonda was roaring with laughter now. I could tell right then and there that this chick and me would be in-person friends!!!! And the best part is:

SHONDA IS BLACK!

I can now officially say I have a black in-person friend!!!! I feel so worldly!

"Lawd, I could use a drank right about now. I hate sitting here, waiting for them to call me up so I can get my shit."

I stopped filling out my paperwork and reached into my purse. I pulled out a water bottle and handed it to Shonda.

"That ain't water," I told her. "That's Popov!"

Shonda snatched it out of my hand. "I knew I liked you girl! Gimme some of that!" And she took a deep drink--I mean: DRANK! Ha! I will learn fun new words from Shonda, I just know it.

So anyway, we're in-person friends now and Shonda is going to come over and hang out sometime!!! She is dying to try Percocets. I told her I have a truck load!

Now, gossip about my Daddy. WELL, you all know he got out of prison and you all know he was in prison for 15 years because he had me doing child porn (which is stupid since I was totally into it). Anyway, he called me and told me he was coming back into town and then drama happened, I went to jail, yadda yadda yadda. So I get a call one day:

"Hey Daaaarlin'." Said a low, heavy-breathing voice.

"Hello Daddy. How are you?" I was not really in the mood to talk--Judge Judy was on.

"Whatchu wearin'?" His breath was coming out in short puffs.

"Oh, Daddy, come on! I'm wearing the usual--cut-off jean shorts and a tube top--why?"

"Are you.." heavy breathing "wearing..." more heavy breathing "panties???"

"Daddy, are you masturbating right now? You sound funny. Of course I'm not wearing panties--you raised me better than that!"

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!"

"Daddy, did you just cum?"

"Oh baby, you were always the only one who could get my motor runnin'. I want to see you--tonight. Let's get together--for old time's sake."

I sat and thought for a minute (Judy had gone to commerical). I was low on cash and it has been a while since I had a father's love (if you know what I mean).

"It'll cost you." I told him, matter-of-factly.

"I just came into a lot of cash--I'll take care of you baby, don't you worry. I got some good news, too--I'm going to re-launch your porn career. Real, legitment, adult porn. I knew you were a star, when you were as little as 5. I know I can mold you back into a star and we can go to the top, just you and me!"

I thought...hmmm...I do need the money, my music career is in the toilet (where it started) and the tricks have kind of dried up in my area after the truck stop closed (health code violations). I do LOVE being in front of the camera and if I can't make music videos, I'll make adult films instead! I can't wait to reclaim my title as the Princess of Porn!

Isn't that great news?!

Love,

Trasha

Hate Mail!

2008-01-08T23:19:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

The last thing a girl wants to deal with when she's hungover is HATE MAIL! I look forward to getting on my WebTV (or as I call it, my LAPTOP) and checking my messages--you guys truly keep me going when I think I can't go on anymore. And what do I see when I open my MySpace today?

From: ego inhio procul subvenio

hey just wanted to say your shit really fucking sucks. this is the worst "techno dance" grabage I have ever heard. noe listen, the beats are ok but you need more than that shit. It's just pure plain old garbage.

My response, which I cannot access since I blocked this little jerk was basically:

Hey Friend,

Thank you for writing. I like the music we make (obviously) and it's ok with me if you don't.

However, I think you should learn to be more constructive with your criticism instead of being a total prick! I don't come to take a shit on your page, so why would you do that to me?

At any rate, I'm sending big Christian love your way!

Love,

Trasha

His response:

hey bad music just irritates me. the lyrics to your song are ok... at most. you can leave what ever comments you want on my page i don't care. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. that said opinions are like assholes, and if i want to hear from an asshole I would fart.

I'll admit, I have nothing to add to this--except: lay off the cliches! "If I want to hear from an asshole, I would fart"--who says this crap?! I mean, by all accounts, I am poor white trailer trash and even I don't throw around those lame lines. Ah, whatever. How many records has HE sold?

I need a drink.

Love,

Trasha

What Did You Get For X-Mas?

2008-01-08T23:19:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

What did you get for Xmas this year? Wanna know what I got: NOTHING! Oh wait--I take that back--I did get FIRED from my job at Arby's. Some ashes from my cigarette fell into a roast beef sandwich and my boss had a fit and fired me.

Did I mention that I was also on a few painkillers and started a small fire when my cigarette fell out of my mouth? OK, so it was a large fire.

Details, details!

Now that I think of it, I DID get a present this year (besides being unemployed). CUNT FACE CALLED ME!!!!!!

You all know that Cunt Face is my queer twin brother and that being without him makes me spin my wheels in confusion--he is my voice of reason. I feel like I've been half-dead all this time without him. But he called me and he's on his way home!!! He's been hiding out in Ontario, Canada, stealing food and sleeping in dumpsters. I asked why he didn't just turn tricks to make some cash and he assured me he'd explain more when he came home.

I said: "What happened? Did your dick fall off? Come on, Cunt Face--I taught you better than that!"

He was very secretive - which he knows annoys me, so he's on his way home now to quell my curiosity.

You want to hear some DRAMA?! I know you do!!! I was out shopping last week, trying to find some new clothes to fit my gorgeous new body, and guess who was there--shopping in the junior department, no less? MY MOTHER, Bonnie! And she actually had the nerve to go shopping WITH MY DAUGHTER, Starla! When I went up to her (I can't resist a confrontation), she sheilded the baby--like I was going to try and take her or something.

"I don't want that fucking baby!" I screamed at her. "Quit acting like I'm going to snatch her away or something."

She stared at me, angrily, then screamed: "What the fuck do you want, bitch?!"

"I wanted to officially tell you that you are OUT OF THE BAND, you midget WHORE!"

She spat at the ground. "Like I give a rat's ass! Who needs a career when you have a husband and child to take care of?"

You could have knocked me over. HUSBAND?! She STOLE MY HUSBAND (and my baby, but who cares about that).

"Oh, so you and PJ are married now? Well, have fun! You always did love scrubbing his obese ass. God, you're sick! Have fun living off those disability checks, you loser. When Cunt Face and I make it to the big time, we WON'T thank you!"

"Rot in hell, you ungrateful bitch!"

"The next time I see you, you had better be in a casket!" I screamed and then walked off. HA! I love getting the last word.

I know, I know--this behavior is NOT the most Christian, but I am trying, I tell you. I was too tired to go to church this Sunday, so I watched Joyce Meyers instead. Good enough!

Love,

Trasha

Do You Want Fries With That?

2008-01-08T23:18:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

My newfound Christianity has lead me to reflect a lot on my life and the choices I've made and continue to make on a daily basis. I was looking through my closet today at all my clothes--clothes which I use as part of my job (on the stage or in the truck stop parking lot) and the wire hangers they hang on. How ironic--the two things that define me most I will now have to turn my back on.

For Jesus.

No more whoring. No more abortions. To be a true Christian, I must turn my back on all that--and the thought scares me to death! I feel like I don't know myself anymore. I'm having a crisis and I have no one to turn to, since ~~Mama~~ Bonnie stabbed me in the back and Cunt Face is nowhere to be found (he's been on the run from the cops since I got thrown in prison). It's just me and The Lord--and it's really fucking boring!

So I had to buckle down. I knew I needed to make an honest living if I had any chance at turning my life around. I now work at Arby's, in the gas station. It's not exactly glamor (or what you'd expect of a famous internet singer), but it's all I got. Some habits die hard though and I blew my boss so that I'd get a day off. Sorry Jesus! The great thing about this Jesus stuff is that I can pretty much say and do whatever I want, but as long as I say sorry to Jesus, everything is A-OK. I'm liking these loop holes!

I'm smoking a huge, fat joint right now and that's OK since Jesus made it. Nothing is bad as long as you can connect Jesus to it somehow, which is what I've been learning at the Church. I need to chill for a bit and get myself together. And I need to get the smell of roast beef out of my hair.

Love,

Trasha

Working on a New Song--My BIG Comeback!!!!

2008-01-08T23:18:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

The future of the Cunty Bitches as you know them is uncertain--I'm not exactly on good terms with my undead-husband-and-sold-baby-stealing-whore of a mother (no offense to you whores out there). But, I'm not going to slow down my creativity because of that. I'm working on a new song right now for a solo EP I plan on releasing sometime in 2008. It will be all about my newfound Christianity! I still wish they'd stop giving me dirty looks at the church when I light up my Virignia Slim--or hit my flask. Why do Christians have to be such prudes??? I tell them God invented cigarettes and booze and I will partake in them. Even Jesus drank!

Love,

Trasha

Awwww!

2008-01-08T23:17:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

You all certainly know how to make a bitch feel good! Thank you all for being so warm and loving to this old heffer. Your messages and comments and all that help me get through these cold, cold days.

There is something keeping my heart warm lately. I have a new man in my life!!! And better yet, YOU KNOW HIM! Well, you've heard of him I'm sure and I hope you get to know him, too...

Who is this mystery man rocking my world?

JESUS!

Yes, that's right--I, Trasha White, have been SAVED BY THE LORD!!!!! I'm still getting used to this new "holier than thou" thing, like any good Christian. But I've started to judge the low lives around me and it feels REALLY GOOD!

More to come...

Love,

Trasha

Guess Who Ain’t Dead?

2008-01-08T23:17:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

If your answer to my bulletin question is: YOU, TRASHA, you'd be half right. Yes, I am very much alive and have been going through quite some trials and tribulations lately. But I've had a sort of rebirth that I will fill you all in on VERY soon, I promise. I'm not quite the same Trasha that you have come to know and love. In time, in time...

Back to what I was saying. I'm not the only one alive and kickin'...it appears so is my dead husband PJ. And Mama, she ain't missin', either. Nope--seems that when Mama run away long ago, she was actually runnin' right into PJ's fat and UNDEAD arms! And that ain't all--they have been secretly raising my offspring, Starla--the one I sold on the black market, which landed me in prison.

Can you fucking believe that?!

My life had just fallen apart...but things are looking up at last. How can I find a silver lining to such a dark, dark cloud?

I'll tell you very soon--and you won't believe your eyes.

Love,

Trasha

I’m Back Y’all!

2008-01-08T23:17:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

Those fools released me from prison! HA! I think I may write a book about my time in the pokey. My homecoming was very bittersweet. OK, it was just bitter, but I will fill you ALL in! Some VERY interesting things have transpired since I've been away and you won't BELIEVE it! I'm stunned right now--like Betty Butterfield would say: "I can barely hold my cocktail!" You will shit your pants.

Love,

Trasha

Update on Trasha

2008-01-08T23:16:00.004-08:00

hey everyone trasha asked me to right you all so you know whats goin on...well, shes still in jail and wont be out any time soon she has a public defnder so you no what that means--shes screwed. she is being strong and loves you all more than life itself. she said she hasn't had to eat any pussy yet to survive in prison but she does carry a razor blade around in her mouth just in case anyone steps to her. oh--mama is not in the band anymore but trasha will go into details about that...i'm still hiding out until the smoke clears but i think the cops want me cuz of the meth lab but hey i was just tryin to help trasha lose weight...you wouldn't recognize trasha anymore--shes lost about 100 ponds already! she says it's the "jenny crank diet". she has another 100 to go and shell be goregous she says if her teeth stay in her head you know how meth makes your teeth fall out anyway i gotta go i love you all too please send messages of love and support to trasha she really needs you now!!!! cunt face

Trasha's in JAIL!!!!

2008-01-08T23:16:00.003-08:00

Home Abortionist Jailed for Selling Baby on Black Market

[Warren, MI] Trasha White, a resident of Jackson Trailer Park in Warren, was brought into custody last night after an anonymous tip was given to police regarding the whereabouts of White's missing infant daughter, Starla.

Starla White, just weeks old, was sold on the black market for the sum of $50,000—which Trasha used to purchase a doublewide trailer. Police are still trying to locate the child, but fear she's been taken out of the country. When police brought Miss White into custody, they also confiscated a large meth lab, prescription pain killers (not prescribed to Miss White) as well as several pounds of marijuana.

When asked why she did it, Miss White had only these words to say: "I feel like Paris Hilton—this is an outrage! Get that [censored] camera out of my face—I don't have my makeup on!"

She is being held without bail, pending her arraignment.

So Much to Tell You!

2008-01-08T23:16:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

No I'm not dead or in prison. I am so sorry we've been out of touch for so long--that ain't like me and you know it! So much has happened since I last wrote that I don't know where to start. Here is a list of topics that I will covering as soon as I have enough time to really write about it:

1) Starla
2) My trailer
3) Mama
4) The band
5) My Daddy
6) My weight loss

Love,

Trasha

Weight Loss Goals

2008-01-08T23:15:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

In my plan to drop 250 pounds, I've devised the following diet plan, which I'm convinced will let me reach my goal of getting pretty in a matter of weeks. I'd do Gastric Bypass, but I'm a girl on a budget.

1) Crystal Meth (courtesy of Cunt Face)
2) Binging/Purging (a la Nicole Richie)
3) Laxatives (it did wonders for Karen Carpenter)
4) TrimSpa (RIP Anna Nicole)

Now, if this isn't a recipe for ~~disaster~~ delicious sexiness, I don't know what is!

Love,

Trasha

Crystal Meth Will Make Me the Next Beth Ditto!

2008-01-08T23:15:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

I'm feeling much better now that I'm in the comfort of my own trailer. I've got an ice-cold Coors Light, a pack of Virginia Slims and a full bottle of Perks sitting right next to my recliner. Cunt Face rolled up a celebratory blunt (like he needs a reason) and we're having a ball right now.

I still haven't wrapped my head around this whole motherhood thing. I just look at Starla, sleeping next to me in her car seat, and think: what the hell am I going to do with her? I don't know the first thing about parenting. My expertise is in the AVOIDANCE of motherhood--I don't know if I have the strength to take care of this kid. I'm a mess, this I know...I'm just baffled!

I was worried that she'd be screaming all the time and getting on my nerves, but oddly, she's very quiet and chill. Probably because of all the Perks I did during my pregnancy.

There were whispers in the trailer park as Cunt Face carried Starla in. It seems everyone is agog at the fact that I carried a child to term. I got some evil glances from my asshole neighbors, to which I responded by giving them the finger and grabbing my crotch. If I had a beer bottle in my hand, I would have thrown it at them!

I feel a real sense of completion. The album is out (not moving enough units to buy a double wide yet, but hopefully, we will--hint, hint: BUY THE FUCKING ALBUM BITCHES) and the baby is out, so now I sit and think: WHAT NEXT? I'm too exhausted to think about the next album or performing or anything really. I need to chill, get my shit together (as much as humanly possible) and let the muse find ME.

Cunt Face and I have talked about me losing weight. He promised to cook up enough meth to take the pounds off in record time. My goal is to be a little smaller than this hot punk chick, Beth Ditto (lead singer of Gossip):

I know I can do it! Wish me luck!

Love,

Trasha

Trasha White: Lot Lizard, Home Abortionist, Mother

2008-01-08T23:15:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

Despite my best attempts/desires, I gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Her name is Starla and she weighs 7 lbs and 6 ounces and is actually a pretty cute baby. I can hardly believe she came out of my cunt--it's truly one of God's miracles. I say miracle because it truly is one that I carried her to term. When a girl can drink, pop pills, throw herself down stairs, get punched in the stomach and STILL manage to not miscarry, it IS a fucking miracle.

Cunt Face has been at my side the whole time. He told me that he let you in on me and Mama's little "altercation". I am so surprised she got upset when I threw my bedpan at her. As security dragged her from my room, I yelled: "You said you were into water sports!" Oh, I had a good hearty laugh at that one. I always laugh at my own jokes! Needless to say, Mama and me aren't talking right now.

Thank God for my brother, though--I tell ya. Cunt Face is the perfect uncle. I say uncle because I called him "Aunt Cunt Face" and he slapped me!

"Don't take away my fucking masculinity!" He spat. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm not a man!"

He had a good point. Cunt Face may be a queer, but he's unassumingly violent. I also know better than to push him too far because I'm more of the mouth and he's more of the broken bottle swinger. Whenever I get us into trouble, he's quick to bail us out with some dirty street fighting that no one would expect from a guy named Cunt Face.

Anyway, he's been a big help. He was holding Starla just a bit ago and said: "I wonder who her daddy is."

"Yeah, that's a good question," I replied as I saw a short film before my eyes of all Starla's potential fathers. It was like a fucking mini-series! HA! What can I say: I'm a busy girl! The US has a better chance finding Osama Bin Laden than I do, trying to figure out who Starla's daddy is.

She seems cool and all, so I guess we'll play this whole "mother" thing by ear. I mean, I can always give her up for adoption or sell her on the black market. For now, she can stick around. I'm too bored to get rid of her.

Love,

Trasha

Trasha in Hospital Again

2008-01-08T23:14:00.006-08:00

hi evryone trasha was rushed to the hospital again cuz she was having cramps an shit the doc said shell prolly have the baby really soon she keeps beggin for more drugs like morphine but they told her no! i snuck her some perks tho to take the edge off an im excited about becoming an uncle never thought that would happen but i guess you never know. trasha promises to not become boring like madonna once she gives birth - she said with the baby out of her stomach shell have room for even more rage. mama came to the hospital an trasha an her are yellin at each other mama called trasha an abortion that lived and trasha called mama a cum dumster. then mama threw water in trasha face and trasha threw her bedpan wich was full of piss at mamas face and security had to take mama out. ill write l8r - cunt face

Fuck American Idol and the Real World Las Vegas Reunion!

2008-01-08T23:14:00.005-08:00

Hey Friends,

Last night's American Idol finale was so bad, that I had to turn it in the middle of Jordan's poorly-performed cover of Xtina's "Fighter". What a bunch of horse shit this season turned out to be!

Did you hear about the new MTV show, REUNITED? It seems like we'll be catching up with the season of the Real World: Las Vegas. Like anyone wants to sit through another season of Trachelle. They SHOULD have chosen the Real World: San Francisco--that is a cast I'd like to catch up with. You know what would be REALLY great? If they brought Pedro back, too! I think it would be a hoot to see something along the lines of this:

OK, enough of that.

I feel so much better now that we've finally put our album out. I'm sure it'll be a huge success! YEAH RIGHT! It's nice to finish things--an album, school, a 12 pack of Coors Light. And VERY soon I'll be finishing something else--having this damned baby! I'm surprised that I've had the patience to bring a child to full term. I can't wait to see what kind of mother I turn out to be! I wonder if she'll follow in my footsteps and be the Trailer Park Tricycle like I was. You know, everyone's ridden it? I guess we'll see.

Love,

Trasha

BUY OUR ALBUM!!! RELEASED TODAY!!!!

2008-01-08T23:14:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

Cunt Face has officially released our album "Abortionized!", which can you buy at SoundClick. Simply click on the album cover below and you'll be whisked away to our store, where you can pick up the CD for $5.99. It is available digitally, so you'll be downloading all the songs (FYI). We're proud of this album and we wanted to make it worth you while so there are 11 songs on the CD!!! Here is the tracklist:

We promise you'll love it! Please support us, spread the word about us, tell your friends to buy our album--we need your help! I have a baby to raise! Hey, I think I can get used to exploiting this fetus.

BUY THE ALBUM!

Love,

Trasha

I’m Beyond This Trailer Park!

2008-01-08T23:14:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

In my life, I've been accused of being many things.

Whore.
Money-hungry bitch.
Evil.
Heartless.
Fat.
Crazy.
Without concious.
Trashy.
Talentless.

So many labels have been put on me. I sit here, in my trailer, drinking an ice cold Coors Light while I rub my rediculously pregnant belly, and I think of all the people who have labeled me throughout my life.

My family.
My friends.
The hicks in this trailer park.
Society.
Strangers on the internet.
The other hookers that work my part of the city.

I am not even angry. I just don't care anymore. I think I'm finally at peace with who I am. There may be some truth in the labels that people have put on me, but I am not those labels.

I'm beyond this trailer park, this country, this planet. Sometimes I just feel like I'm not really here--like I'm just observing the crazy behavior of the people on this planet and chiming in with my own actions, just to observe their reactions. Like I just assume the role of human, of American, of Earthling, but it's not really me. Am I making any sense? Am I just drunk? Should I have taken those three Percocet? Is it just because I'm about to bring another baby (albeit a retarded one) into this world? Perhaps these feelings just come with age--I am not a spring chicken anymore.

I need some answers and I need them NOW.

Love,

Trasha

Baby Names - From My Friends

2008-01-08T23:13:00.002-08:00

Hey Friends,

A few of you have given me some great ideas for baby names. I want MORE! Here is what I have been given so far and once I have enough, I'll let you know so you can all vote for the best! FYI--this blog entry is being updated each time you send me a new name!

"Name Trasha's Baby!"

Flower
Summer
Kitty
Lolly
Vikki
Oxycontin Marie
Vagina Slim
Beaver Michelle
Perkiset Louise
No More Wire Hangers Gertrude
Morticia
Selene
Nebula
Starla
Angel
Sugar
Suzette
Slut
Whore
Ezra

Love,

Trasha

Daddy

2008-01-08T23:13:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

I was getting ready to put pen to paper to write my father when the phone rang. It was a collect call from Jackson Prison (no relation to Jackson Trailer Park--where I live). It's like my father is pyschic!

The call was brief, but he did tell me that he's getting out of prison next month and that he is coming right to the trailer park to see me. I told him that Cunt Face is living with me and that I'm going to have a baby--a baby girl.

"A girl, eh? I hope she turns out to be as pretty as you were when you was a kid. God, you were so pretty. And your little breasts were so firm...oh I remember those titties..."

"Well, it's going to have Down Syndrome--they told me that much."

"Really?" Daddy sounded interested in that. "A retarded little baby girl? Well, I'll be more than happy to give you a hand with her."

I know where Daddy's hands have been and what his idea of parenting is. I must admit, I started to get jealous of the baby, thinking that he'd have his tobacco-stained mitts all over her. It's like I was yesterday's news or something. Well, I'm an adult now--no longer Daddy's Little ~~Whore~~ Girl.

I declined his offer and let him know I'll be ok as a single mom. Hell, my pathetic mother was around, but I still felt like I raised myself when Daddy went to prison. (Yes, Mama, if you're reading this--you were and still ARE a lousy fucking mother. But you've got a vocal range to beat the band).

I have such mixed emotions about seeing him after all these years. Will he still think of me as his Pretty Little Thing?

I guess we'll see.

Love,

Trasha

I Shit In Jerry Falwell's Mouth!

2008-01-08T23:12:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

Everyone got pissed off when Rosie O'Donnell said she wasn't sad that Jerry Falwell died. I have to agree with Rosie--I wasn't sad, either. However, I think we both had very different reasons for not mourning this man.

I met Jerry Falwell in 1996. He came to Detroit to do a sermon at the Pontiac Stadium.

I was standing in my usual alley, smoking a Virginia Slim and hoping to make some quick cash. He pulled up in a limo, rolled his window down and said: "Are you into threesomes?"

I said: "Honey, for the right price, I'm into ANYTHING."

He then flashed a wad of cash and said: "We'll just see about that!"

Of course, I got right in the car! I would have rode in the trunk of that limo for all the greenbacks he had in his fat little fist.

It was Jerry, me and another huslter--a male one! He was a cute little twink and I could only imagine what Falwell had in store for us.

We ended up at a motel near Cass Ave. in downtown Detroit. It was a seedy area, but I am comfortable in that environment. Perhaps he didn't want to be recognized, I couldn't tell you.

We went to his room. He told us to undress and get ready while he prayed for forgiveness.

I said: "We haven't done anything yet--don't you think you should hold your horses?"

He giggled: "I need all the forgiveness I can get...trust me."

The twink and I exchanged glances. I don't know about him, but I was getting nervous. These freaky tricks always make me a bit uneasy. That's why I love truckers--it's simple, in and out, wham bam thank you Trasha and goodbye.

After saying his prayers, Falwell opened a suitcase and pulled out a huge double-headed dildo. The twink didn't flinch a bit, but I wasn't sure if I could take all that! Jerry must have seen my expression and quickly put me at ease.

"It's not for you, hon."

Phew! What a relief!

He stripped all his clothes off and ordered the twink onto the bed. I was instructed to masterbate while he and the twink fucked themselves with the double dildo. The twink was pretty cute, but there was nothing sexy about Jerry or his big fat ass. I could tell he liked to get his pussy fisted--his hole was GIGANTIC! Gross!

After a while, the dildo was tossed aside and replaced with the real thing: the twink! I watched Jerry get pounded by that twink and started to wonder why I was even there in the first place.

My question was answered when Jerry commanded me to get on the bed, hover over him and shit on his face. Lucky for him, I really had to shit! He looked like this afteward:

He loved every second of it. It was my first and only time doing scat because he was the first and only person to offer me $1,000 to do it! I feel bad for the twink, though--he did all the "real" work and I got the most money.

Well, shit happens! HA!

Love,

Trasha

Name Trasha’s Baby!

2008-01-08T23:12:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

Cunt Face dragged me to the doctor a couple days ago to make sure everything is ok with the baby (that paranoid queen) and I found out that I'm having a girl. And, despite my best efforts, she is healthy as can be (you know, besides the Down Syndrome).

I need your help naming my retarded spawn. I'm lacking interest in that department so I want you to do my dirty work! I can't wait to see what you freaks come up with.

I am not even going to comment on American Idol. They've been losing me since Sanjaya got the boot.

Love,

Trasha

Great Shot Recipes!

2008-01-08T23:12:00.001-08:00

Hey Friends,

You all know I love a nice cold Coors Light. But I'm not just a beer drinking gal--I do love doing SHOTS. Cunt Face and I love to go to the gay bars and do shots and act all kinds of crazy. A friend of his sent him some shot recipes that had me laughing so hard, I HAD to share them with you.

Red-Headed Slut

1 oz Peach Schnapps
1 oz Jagermeister® Herbal Liqueur
Cranberry Juice

The Bloody Tampon

Tomato juice
Vodka
Rolled-up napkin
Soak napkin in shot, then suck on the napkin and drink the shot!

And for my personal favorite:

The Abortion

Add Bailey's to Peach Schnapps until it reaches the consistancy of monkey jism
Add grenadine for the finishing touch

I was so excited by these drink ideas that I just HAD to come up with my own. It's only for the REALLY BRAVE (read: drunk) girl, but it's sure to be a party starter--or stopper, depending on the crowd you associate with.

The Cunty Bitch

What You'll Need

1) Coors Light
2) Virginia Slim
3) Percocet
4) Vagina

First, get your gal pal to lie on the bar, panties down.

Then, pour beer into her snatch

Punch her in the stomach so that the beer squirts into your shot glass

Drop in one Percocet

While taking a drag on your Virginia Slim, drink the shot

Yeah, I know--shots are typically with booze, but I have a baby to think about you know!

Love,

Trasha

Political Correctness Can Eat Shit!

2008-01-08T23:11:00.004-08:00

Hey Friends,

Political Correctness is getting out of hand.

When will the world lighten up and learn to take a joke or turn off their radio/TV/computer when they find something offensive to them? I'm so sick of everyone turning into PRUDES these days--what kind of career could we possibly have if everyone loses their sense of humor?

Lighten up.
Stab your wife.
Beat your kids.
Get a life!

Love,

Trasha

Japan has drop box for unwanted babies! LOVE IT!

2008-01-08T23:11:00.003-08:00

Hey Friends,

Once again, those crazy Japs have come up with something that we should have thought about decades ago: a drop box for unwanted babies!

This has been my answer to the "drop box" for years:

Love,

Trasha