And Another Thing, I Don't Like Your Moms

Have you ever seen the SNL skit with Maya Rudolph?  I think it's her. Was it ScarJo? It's the skit that that Keenan Thompson has called Deep House Dish and guest singers come on.  I cannot find it on the internets and it is upsetting me.  If you find it, I will give you...something...I don't know what.  Undying love.  I will fucking worship and adore you.

One day, I was downtown on the phone with my friend Mark and recited the lyrics in a conversational tone (I interject other words, but these are the lyrics):

I am tired of both your Great Danes
And another thing....I don't like your mom
And another thing....I do not like your car.
You've got a bad haircut
And your house smells weird.
And I am tired of you calling off our wedding.

Oh, the looks I got with that last line.  It was glorious!  This gorgeous man stopped and looked at me as though to console me.  And he was all in a suit, probably going to a meeting, Point is - not a tourist...someone that has to be somewhere. I just put my hand up and shook my head a little like "please, don't, I'll be okay"

Son of a bitch - he was probably the ONE.  They guy in the suit stops and I brush him away. I am an idiot

So I get a call from Moms today:

I was at your Godmother's.  She has a cousin in Chicago.  Irene.  (me...waiting to hear it....waiting...) She owns a grocery store.  It's like a big store.  Produce and butcher shop. (wait for it...) It's in Chicago.  But I don't know the name.  She could not remember.  But her name is Irene and her son's name is John XXXXXikis (there it is). ..."

 She continues and I go into my mom coma.

Me: laughing "ok mom, great"
Moms: "well can you find him?"
Me: "what the hell? how am I supposed to find him.  And say what?  My godmother told me to call you?!"

Moms suggests just finding out about him.  She learned a new word, "internet".  I am so sure, stalker! I explain that it's not nice to spy and also impossible to do if you do not know the name of the store.  And that I am NOT doing it anyway.

Note that I do not really talk to my mom about anything.  She really has no idea what goes on in my world.  But manages to pour salt in my wounds with ferver.

Me: "I need a job, not a boyfriend"
Moms:  "What boyfriend? What job?!  You need  husband.  What, you gonna be alone forever?  You need husband, no job.  You  go work with him....."
My ears start to bleed. "I really don't want to talk about this right now."
Moms: "okay. okay...we're just talking."
 "So, my dress came in for Ry's wedding.  It's going to be big, because I had to get a bigger size for my boobs and I'll need to put straps on...."  She let's me babble for a few minutes.
Moms: " No worry, honey.  I fix it pretty for you.  You bring it -I fix it. Don't worry."

Man, she kills me.