It’s been one of those summers. You know the kind. The temperature rises, then the MotherDick Insurgency begins. At first I thought, no, don’t do it. Another MotherDick rant isn’t going to help anybody. Except, well me. So why the hell not!?
First, to the MotherDick who blurted out “Who are they? What are they wearing? Aren’t those people terrorist?” Shut your mouth. Not every Muslim has a bomb hidden under their skirt. They were visiting their dying child. You were on your phone talking loudly in the ICU as a family was grieving. Shut your pie hole. I saw the No Outside Food Restriction on the sign of the room. I saw you spoon feed that pie to the man you were visiting. You must be trying to kill him. Don’t worry. I heard him reassure you his life insurance would take care of you for life. Let’s hope you spend some of that time and money with your head outside of your ass.
Also, that specialist who saved your loved one is Muslim and Lebanese. I know. You know why? Because we spoke in Arabic about our favorite racist remarks. Asking me if he was on of “my”people was yet another example of why you need to have your mouth sown shut. “My” people? You mean Americans? Yes, he sure as hell is one of my people. If by “my people you mean intelligent, compassionate, and utterly baffled by your bullshit then yes! Nailed it! He’s one “my” people.
To the MotherDicks messaging me on FaceBook or calling me internationally blowing up my messenger with constant “hey baby where are you?” I’m married. I ignored the 18 calls you made at 5 am-I blocked 18 of you MotherDicks. I realize my “memory” post of myself on a cruise made you feel some type of way, but you’re creeps. I shouldn’t have to change my settings because you have a bottle of lotion next to your bed waiting for someone to respond to you. Not flattering. Plus, all of your profile pics (men and women) are fake. I watch catfish. I know how to use google images. I hope you fall into a ditch breaking your tailbone. Maybe then it will be harder for you to sit online all day trolling.
To the MotherDick who vandalized the truck: I hope you cut yourself with that knife you used. A staph infection in your wound would make me squeal with joy. I’m sure I’m not the first or last victim of your MotherDick ways so next time you decide to engage in criminal damage of property I hope someone’s dog gets out and bites you in your privates. You need to be spayed or neutered you rabid squirrel. Gather some nuts, hibernate. When you wake up maybe you’ll be human.
I haven’t forgotten about this special MotherDick– Let’s call you by your own words “Your Mom Sucks Cocks In Hell.” Being classified as MotherDick isn’t enough for your title. You certainly deserve recognition here. I get it. You felt compelled to comment on the poem. Something about it bothered you. That’s why there’s a comment section–we want to hear your feedback or questions. Exception you are likely impotent. Your comment was as flaccid as you. Even if you are a test tube baby developing in utero inside a baboon you likely came out of a woman’s womb. If you were , I’m sure the scientist won’t call you a success. Your condition is worsening. It’s fine when you see the light follow it. Let go. Based on your MotherDick activities you are guaranteed a place in Hell. No worries, you will traveling to hell amongst your own in “MotherDick Class.”
The funny part is your comment itself . All the effort it must have taken to create a fake, pathetic attempt at a screen name to comment on blogs to say “it’s so gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!” Really, MotherDick? Really? I hope your prostate gets enlarged. Your balls are tiny. You need a pair of giant cojones so when someone kicks you in the nuts, one of your testicles will burst. I hope you haven’t reproduced. Are you a Trump? It’s possible you are. Maybe you’re one of those responding to the polls. If so, let me pack my bags move away. Iceland sounds good.
Finally! Winter is coming. If this were Game of Thrones I would invite all you MotherDicks to The Red Wedding or to the Boltons’. Ramsey Bolton would love to make you “Reek.” You MotherDicks need to have a seat on the Iron Throne and Dance With Dragons.
**Please note these are examples of situations**Creative Non-Fiction**