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labor's a bitch 04 November 2004 - 12:41 She's giving birth.Ohmegodohmegodomegodomegodomigodomigodomigod.... I can't think, dawg. I can't eat, either. So stop asking me to. I won't eat those tacos, Ma, no I don't care if I haven't eaten in two days. First Carrie bites the dust, now this. God, why me?Ask for the day off at work, said Dud. Can't, I choked out through a dry throat. Already didn't go Tuesday because of Carrie. I am terrified. Shit, whaddoido? [Mom yakks on the phone with a lady she knows. 'Que debemos de hacer? Ah, le jalamos el perrito, aunque llore la perra?' Oh God.] I swear, I'm gonna be sick. And mom's being a pissy whiner about it. Ew, no! She doesn't wanna get close to Cookie, no quire ayudarme para que de a luz. No. She cries instead. Like a child. She expects me to do everything on my own. Let me save the fuckin' day. Yeah, real fuckin' nice lady. Typical on her part. Shit. Now I'm fuckin' pissed off. It's as if the doctor says, 'Ooo no, I can't help your wife deliver her triplets. I'm squeamish.' Well what the fuck you there for, you prick?! God damn! It's not like I'm asking you to pull out the damn puppy with your teeth. I want your moral fuckin' support on this, alright, lady? But no. So fine. Fuck you then. I gotta go now. My bitch needs me. |