Every Word my Mother told me not to say
and a few I learned along the way
Fiction & Literature, Humorous
| Author: | Christina Naftis, Alex Willis | ISBN: | 1230000028884 |
| Publisher: | AP Publishing House | Publication: | November 5, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Christina Naftis, Alex Willis |
| ISBN: | 1230000028884 |
| Publisher: | AP Publishing House |
| Publication: | November 5, 2012 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
You think your mom was bad, let me tell you, when my mom threatened to send me to school in nothing but my underwear because I hadn’t thrown my dirty clothes in the hamper, she followed through! That woman had some resolve!
My mother had a very twisted sense of right and wrong. She could swear like a sailor and make grown men blush, but God forbid one of her children mention repeat her choice words. Her method of overcoming the desire to be ‘foul mouthed’? SOAP.
S stands for the Shit I was not supposed to say
O stands for the Oh my God, this tastes like Shit
A stands for the Ass Whooping I’d get if I didn’t finish eating my soap
P stands for what always happened in my pants after my ass whooping
I have tasted them all. And I’ve created a chart for those less privileged:
Best Flavor: Irish Spring. The nice smell lulls your mind into thinking that the nails scraping across your tongue and grabbing at your gag reflexes, are just like a spring day with green arbors and trickling waterfalls.
Worst Taste: Ivory. I don’t care if that shit floats instead of sinks like most soaps. Sometimes my shit floats too. It don’t mean that it tastes good. Seriously, Ivory soap was made by mom chemists who intended on ensuring they scrubbed every last foul word out of children’s mouths.
Most Interesting: LAVA Soap. I don’t know if it was the little flecks of stone from actual volcanic rock meant to pumice the taste buds from your tongue, or the red and angry color that made you lather foam like those science fair volcano entries.
If you ever have a chance to travel back in time and relive your childhood, and if you, like me, were prone to eating soap, but not of your own desire, here is a great technique to get you through it.
FOAM! Lather, foam, drool and repeat. Most soaps are made to foam up, you know for the false sense of cleanliness that it offers. If you sputter a lot and really work that soap in your mouth, most of it will find its way past your lips, down your chin and successfully into a sink. Better out than in I always say.
So back to this book… Yes, we did write that tripe 5 Words to Overcome Writer’s Block and we invented the whole Left Brain/Right Brain reading shit, but honestly, we are humorists and writing the serious side was far too taxing. I am on Xanax (Alprazolam) still trying to overcome the links my brain was making to pull that stuff together into one book. It just was never meant to be. Still, the sequel was begging to be written. And here it is.
You think your mom was bad, let me tell you, when my mom threatened to send me to school in nothing but my underwear because I hadn’t thrown my dirty clothes in the hamper, she followed through! That woman had some resolve!
My mother had a very twisted sense of right and wrong. She could swear like a sailor and make grown men blush, but God forbid one of her children mention repeat her choice words. Her method of overcoming the desire to be ‘foul mouthed’? SOAP.
S stands for the Shit I was not supposed to say
O stands for the Oh my God, this tastes like Shit
A stands for the Ass Whooping I’d get if I didn’t finish eating my soap
P stands for what always happened in my pants after my ass whooping
I have tasted them all. And I’ve created a chart for those less privileged:
Best Flavor: Irish Spring. The nice smell lulls your mind into thinking that the nails scraping across your tongue and grabbing at your gag reflexes, are just like a spring day with green arbors and trickling waterfalls.
Worst Taste: Ivory. I don’t care if that shit floats instead of sinks like most soaps. Sometimes my shit floats too. It don’t mean that it tastes good. Seriously, Ivory soap was made by mom chemists who intended on ensuring they scrubbed every last foul word out of children’s mouths.
Most Interesting: LAVA Soap. I don’t know if it was the little flecks of stone from actual volcanic rock meant to pumice the taste buds from your tongue, or the red and angry color that made you lather foam like those science fair volcano entries.
If you ever have a chance to travel back in time and relive your childhood, and if you, like me, were prone to eating soap, but not of your own desire, here is a great technique to get you through it.
FOAM! Lather, foam, drool and repeat. Most soaps are made to foam up, you know for the false sense of cleanliness that it offers. If you sputter a lot and really work that soap in your mouth, most of it will find its way past your lips, down your chin and successfully into a sink. Better out than in I always say.
So back to this book… Yes, we did write that tripe 5 Words to Overcome Writer’s Block and we invented the whole Left Brain/Right Brain reading shit, but honestly, we are humorists and writing the serious side was far too taxing. I am on Xanax (Alprazolam) still trying to overcome the links my brain was making to pull that stuff together into one book. It just was never meant to be. Still, the sequel was begging to be written. And here it is.
