For God’s sake, daughter, what have you gone and gotten yourself into now? I swear. Your father was down at Fat Roy’s Big & Tall Dregs with his lazy cronies last night, spending our money we still owe on the dog’s ingrown toenail operation, and he heard Hank went and left you! Well I’d say good riddance to that s.o.b. horse’s ass you married (didn’t your father warn you he was a loser back when they went hamster hunting together that time when Hank took a dang Winchester 30-06 and they didn’t even have a head left to mount, your dad was so pissed his bowels was backed up for a month!) But, Maria, I swear you never had a lick of sense about handling money and now who’s going to keep you in coney dogs and all that special paper you waste for that damn fool “J.J.” computer nonsense you keep printing out? Hank says you had him move the fridge out to the garage and put your bed out there to make room for the stacks of bullcrap you keep printing out from that crazy AC feller. And speaking of beds, he told Roy at the bar you give up on doing your wifely duty and Hank don’t even care no more cause you smell worse than a wet dog after it’s rolled in the cat box. What’s got into you, girl? Didn’t I raise you better! I told you all that time you kept your head in those dumbass stories about elfs and make-believe creatures that it was a tom fool waste of time and you was getting way too old for that. You should’ve been working summers at the Easy Pickins Chicken Lickins where Lula offered you a good position at the drive up window, instead of buried in those ignorant stories you kept reading and writing about. Now just look at you!
And if that ain’t bad enough, now your cousin Margie tells my sister Molly that you stopped taking your birth control pills! I know I been on you to give me a grandbaby for years now, but, Lordy girl, not with some foreign hack writer that don’t even know your name! Where’s your pride, girl?!
Pull yourself together, Maria! You’re still a good girl and there might be somebody willing to take a look at you, if you just fix yourself up a little. You got a real nice face, but put on a little lipstick and rouge, and for crying out loud, fix up your hair some! You looked real cute in your Sunday school recital when you had that little flip haircut with a velvet bow up over your bangs. At least give it a good shampoo and try that new deodorant I sent you last Christmas. Your father always gets frisky when I shower and put on fresh deodorant. Leastways, give it a try! Oh, and if you send your laundry over home with Harvey McFeeter next time he’s up your way with his pick-up, I’ll wash it and send it back so you can have something clean to wear, since Hank says you been storing that “crapster’s” load of you-know-what in the washing machine and on top of it so he can’t even open it up. I don’t care if Hank never comes back now that he’s carrying on with your cousin Margie, but you got to get over this crush you got on some weirdo you never laid eyes on. And what man in his right mind prints stuff about bowel movements, anyhow?! There’s something not right in his head, Maria, and I fear he’s having a bad influence on you. You’re not still wearing those ratty old black sweatpants you had on last time we seen you are you, daughter? They’re fixing to have a sale down at Kohl’s and maybe I’ll pick you up a pretty little dress that might just help snap you out of this bad patch and find you a nice local boy to settle down with. Love and prayers, Momma
PS. Likely Margie’s husband will be free soon. And he got that big ol’ mole removed!