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Letter to Ian Frazier, re “easy cocktails from the cursing mommy”. New Yorker, September 14th.
Excuse ME. mr. Frazier. but i’m it. i am the original fuckin’ cursing mommy. not you mister fuckin’ ian frazier. you gotta be too fuckin old. do you have twins? you’re a guy, for chrissake. your wife probably makes you your fuckin’ gimlets. and gimlets are so goddamn dated. i design my own fuckin’ cocktails. THE MOTHERS HELPER. for instance. it has appeared in several cookbooks, thank you very much mr. frazier. it’s served at bars left in my wake. it bloody well works a fuckin’ dream. when the shit hits the fan. around six every day. when (why the fuck do they give them so much) homework hasn’t been touched. no edible shit in the fridge. iona getting hysterical and depressed from eating a box of motherfuckin’ cheezits. twins killing each other over the only surviving piece of shit DS. amber, our dog, in neighbors yard trying to kill their bitch dog. my horny husband loiters down, i’m goin for a swim wanna come? i say whatya think? whos gonna do fuckin’ dinner? he shrugs. acts like i’m frigid. i say fuck off. he says you’ve turned into one nasty cursing mommy. so there you have it mr. frazier.
i’m fuckin’ IT.
and this is when i turn to: THE MOTHERS HELPER.
I grab the largest lemonade glass from the shelf.
fill 1/3 with vodka
1/3 with real (SIMPLE) lemonade
1/3 seltzer
add ice, slice of lemon and a sprig of mint if available.
aaahhh. sweet.
yes, mommy is having some lemonade. no you cant have a sip. get your own. and get your effing homework. NOW. i stick my head in the fridge. it looks more promising already. perfectly fine meals can be created with half a bag of baby carrots, half a packet of thin sliced chicken. an onion. a cannister of parmesan cheeze, some frozen ravioli, apples, bananas and bread.
i finish THE HELPER. i thank THE HELPER. i sit down with the twins. i say. you guys wanna make dinner while i do your homework. its a fair trade. oh mommy you’re so funny, you really like lemonade dont you? hell i do!
the next post from the original cursing mommy: how to organize a goddamn pool party for my hyper twins and their ADD friends at the too fuckin’cool to crack a smile aqua pool and not be evicted for being too fuckin’ loud, not gay enough with too many kids, using too many bright colored, non AQUA logo, towels, jumping, splashing, diving, playing, and have sicko wild time.
easy cocktails from the cursing mommy, in the new yorker, by ian frazier. LINK:
http://www.newyorker.com/humor/2009/09/14/090914sh_shouts_frazier
October 2, 2009 at 11:56 pm
Hey girl, I wondered how you did it…..you go
Loved this blog ….the best yet.
Cheers !
Love you, Elaine
October 5, 2009 at 5:18 pm
Soooooo cool, this blog! It’s a book and a film and a Broadway show…
October 6, 2009 at 12:48 am
honestly…i am much too fucking scared to vote for any other fucking choice than you!!!
October 6, 2009 at 1:04 am
aaah, dont be scared. I’m just trying to be scary to Mr. so not scary Ian Frazier.
xx
B
October 7, 2009 at 6:30 pm
I read this when it came out…good one!
xa