Thanks be to all the magical and non-magical beings out there in the universe for mothers! Without ’em, the human race would have vanished tens of thousands of years ago because, as a man, I can tell you, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell men would EVER even consider squeezing football-sized babies outta their privy bits in order to keep the race going! So, thanks, mothers. The human race is highly appreciative of ya! Have a great Mother’s Day, y’all!
I’ve a great idea. I know it’s great because I thought of it, and like the Good Book says, “Those who think their ideas are great and have the balls to say so, have great ideas.” Thus, my idea is great. So, here it is: Make the day after Mother’s Day, “Mother Fucker’s Day”. Let me set the scenario for you. You’ve just finished an exhausting dinner with your mother, a middle age crabby person who takes every opportunity she has to remind you of just how disappointed she is in you, and you’re angry in a pent-up, gotta get relief or bust kinda way. You can’t yell at your mom and tell her what you actually think of her. No way. The Bible forbids it, and you’ll burn in Hell for it. So, here’s my answer for you. Send someone, even a dead someone, a “Mother Fucker’s Day” card the very next day and regain your equilibrium.
For example, I sent Hitler a “Mother Fucker’s Day” card this morning that read,”Dear Hitler, I think you were a real mother fucker to kill all those innocent people like that, and I’m glad you’re dead.” I sealed it; addressed it to, “Adolf H.,The Bunker Remains, Berlin, Germany'” and mailed it off first thing this morning. Hell, it doesn’t matter if it actually ever gets there. No. What matters is I blew off steam by calling a mother fucker a mother fucker, and I feel good about it. So, I declare the day after every Mother’s Day from this day forward to be, “Mother Fucker’s Day” and ask Hallmark to make cards especially for it. They, and you, will be the happier for it.