When I lived Texas as a kid (post LA), we had some real colorful neighbors. But the cream of the crop, my favorite, was the neighbor we’ll call “Ned.” Every morning Ned would creep outside carrying two old coffee tins filled with some sorta liquid, then empty them into the storm drain. Ned only wore wifebeaters and old plaid swim trunks and spent each day mowing his lawn. One morning i was getting into the the car on my way to my douche-magnent high school, when Ned strolls up to me holding a nasty towel. “Good Morning Ned,” I say. “Morn’n Nelly,” he says. Ned leans against my car door, dangling the towel, his head so near I notice he needs a dentist, and fucking quick.
“You, know…” he says. “Umm.. what?” I respond, knowing that if he tries to kidnap me and I scream, it’s useless since my mom is knocked out with sleeping pills and my dad is face down on the back porch with a bottle of scotch. Fuck. “Nelly, you should always carry a towel with you, like i do, in case of emergencies.” Okaaayyy… “Why?” I ask as he grins and stares down at my crotch. “In case you get trapped in your car and have to go to the bathroom.”
“Thanks,” I said, slamming the car door, knocking him back, and speeding off like I was on the honor roll and late for prize day. That’s when I began to wonder if the nice Turkish man that “joked” about being a pimp at that seedy bar (fake IDs baby) may have more to offer me than the world I was raised in.
Here is Helen Hunt raising her daughter in a beautiful world filled with Hawaiin beaches, and towels not soiled with Ned’s feces. What’s not so beautiful is her right ass cheek hanging out of her bathing suit. She’s got that wise look like, I may be old and have thighs like clotted cream but fuck you, I am rich, have an oscar and love my life. And for that I both respect and hate this bitch. I don’t know if you can spank it to her aging ass, but knowing you’re a virgin, it’s a go.
Obediently yours,
Sugar Nell (ex-hooker, friend of Jesus)
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