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Best Mom

I will never ever tell my children about the details of my current past.

And I will take every precaution to glut mischievous demons now, with all the recklessness of a blind sexy stunt-car driver.

The taboo masochism of illicit pleasures unbridled by any emotional commitment must be satiated before adhering to selfless virtue. I cannot see myself regretting the dicks I did not suck and resenting my children for making it impossible to revisit or explore new dicks, drugs, and cities.

Well you can. But that's a terrible thing to do. I'm a little bit of a prickly bitch now, but I can only hope to enjoy life as a loving tender mother before dying a piece of alabaster leather.

I am only confident in all these terrible things I love to do because once exhausted, virtue will likely become the most exotic vice. It seems like a waste of youth to punish harmless exploits by avoiding them.

Despite all the strange thoughts stirring of settling down, I take my solitude to explore limitless company. While my tits still bounce anyway.


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'Hope, you don't have to use it on your wedding night.'

She handed the pistol to Hope, right after the vows, right before the reception.

'I'm just kidding, darling. Don't worry. He's a good man. You did well sweetheart. He's a good man. You'll be fine.'

Hope's paper-thin smile tried to grow as she stared at her grandmother's reflection in the mirror. The mother-of-pearl grip sparkled in her grandmother's hand, bathed by the Chapel's cheap buzzing lights.

'There's a bullet for you, just in case.'

Hope had left the gun on the table.

A week earlier, drunk off self-pity, she had taken it out of its case and walked to the kitchen, where she stuck the barrel in her mouth and proceeded to take pictures of herself to send to Ray.

In a rare instance of good fortune, her phone ran out of battery before she could indulge her sense of pithy revenge. She woke up and pried open her tear-salted eyelashes then made sure to delete an…