Pic by Matthew Stone
My mother doesn’t get me—that I didn’t go to university, that I live in a squat, that I write a blog detailing my love of casual sex and hard drugs, that I don’t have a “real” job, that I’m an atheist—these are all things she disapproves of fervently. And as any concerned mother should, she’s constantly reminding me of this fact in the form of lengthy, condemning emails detailing how much of a fuck up I am. Below are excerpts from some of her recent psychotic, Jesus-fueled rants. This is the shit I have to put up with.
– Karley, I went on the Vice blog today and I am seriously afraid to read your articles sometimes. I feel like whenever I enter that site I see something about vaginas, and I know that’s your favorite subject (????) so I don’t read the article in fear that you wrote it! I would really love it if you did not write about penises or vaginas! Ok talk to you later! Love, Mom
– I don’t want to seem like a creep by Rob [my little brother] had Facebook open the other day so I took a quick look at your page, and I’m worried about what you say on your “wall.” When I looked you had written something about thinking you might be gay. Is that meant to be funny? I don’t understand your humor sometimes.
– Let Jesus back into your heart.
– This clubnight Girlcore that you do, is it true that this is a lesbian night or is that just for show?
– There are a few things that have been bothering me lately and I need to get some things off my chest. It bothers me unbelievably that the one thing that you choose to write about is “dirty things.” Is that who you really are? Is that because you feel nobody would read your writing if it wasn’t all about sex? I know you know it bothers me. I think it’s only natural that it would bother me and Dad and anybody who loves you. Can you at least try and understand how it makes me feel?
– I just want to know what you are.
– I can’t hold me head up in the supermarket anymore because I feel like the whole town is looking at me and judging me because of your blog. Don’t you have any respect for how your actions reflect on me and Daddy?
– You’re not smoking dope are you?
– You are twenty three years old. Why is it that you are so “into” a nineteen year old boy who looks twelve? Also, you say that he acts “crazy” and that obviously does not make me feel good. It seems like instead of getting more mature as you age you are acting more crazy and talking about getting drunk and having hangovers all the time. Please set me straight if I’m wrong, but can you see why I am so worried about you?
– There has been lots of coverage in the press about HPV recently and it makes me so nervous! Are you making sure to use protection?
– I called you three times yesterday and you didn’t pick up. Please respond to this email and let me know you’re not dead.
When does one reach the point in life where everything we do, say, think, dream, breath isn’t done without the nagging feeling that it’s going to get us in shit with our parents?