When your parents are really mad, they don’t know your name.  They just know you’re some asshole who’s fucking up all their shit.  My mother would call us every name in the family—because that’s who she was mad at, the whole family. But you couldn’t understand her because she’d clench her teeth and run all her words together.


My brothers and I would be like, “Who’s in trouble?  Pocahontas?  I heard Pocahontas.”

“That bitch is in trouble.  Mom’s pissed.”


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