"Viva Lost Vegas!" - Hunter Thompson

It was like only seventy-five degrees in Vegas, and the sky was a perfectly cloudless blue and boring ASF. My hungover mother had decided to day-after-drunk drive me to the NLV airport, with all the windows rolled up. Probably just so she could totally torture me one last time with her stale-ass beer breath from the night before. Upside, at least she changed out of her neon orange Hooter's uniform short shorts, and back into what passes for what I call her regular whore-drobe. A pair of ancient ass daisy dukes, a Budweiser sports bra and a pair of faded pink cowboy boots, that might have been alright in the 80's. But not the good part of the late 80's with Maddona, but the lamer part of the early Cyndi Lauper 80's.  

While I was wearing my favorite shirt, a sleeveless white eyelet lace number, that totally shows off my new perfectly perty summer boobs. I was wearing this as kind of a Bone Voyage farewell gesture to my mother's new baseball player boyfriend Phil. But as usual, she's too hungover to get the message. But at least I gave Phil something to think about during his "alone time" out in the garage after I am long gone.  

I think my mom sorta looks like me ...sometimes? Except she is super old and shit, with blurry bloodshot eyes and leathery lizard skin. Like you can totally tell that she should have started wearing sunscreen a decade or two before she did? What's sorta sad about this is that she used to be an online psychic for a minute? So you'd have thought that she would have psychically seen those pre-skin cancer sunspots coming, right? I guess it's true what they say after all ...you really have to be careful how you pick your psychic friends too. 

Unfortunately for me, my mother clearly feels the need to slur out some more words at me, while circling around the airport to avoid paying for parking. 

"Belladonna my little bitchess..." My mom mumbles my whole name over at me, as if this will be meaningful instead of super annoying ASF. Like she has some last-minute super stupid sex advice to impart before I get out the crappy car and get on a plane. Like don't try to put a condom on with your mouth, or you will be tasting Teflon for the next three days? 

"You know don't have to do this shit, right? Like maybe, we can figure something else out?" 

I see a spasm of panic as I blankly stare back at her wide, childlike eyes of wonder. How could I leave my drunken, erratic, harebrained mother to fend for herself? No problemo, pretty much the same way she left me at home to fend for myself since I was two when she had to go to "work". I guess payback is a bitch after all ...and that bitches name is Belladonna Blackswan.  

Oh yeah...that's me and shit. Just in case you just got lost ASF in my ongoing mental monologue like I do too. To be honest, I am not super psyched about my lame name, but it was better than the alternative, Destiny's Childe Blackswan. I swear to god, there should totally be a law or something that says ex-stripper moms should never be allowed to name their daughter's Destiny and shit. Cause some karma should just not be tested! 

Huh...Karma Blackswan might be cool though? Maybe I will change it later on when I get my own reality show or after my first arrest? Anyways...back to the bullshit.

"Don't worry about it, I'll be hella cool." I lied easily grabbing my shit and making my move for the door. "So anyways ...it's been real and shit, but I gotta go, ho."

Truth is that I've always been a pretty good liar. But I'd been saying this latest lie so much lately that it almost sounded tired and unconvincing now. I kind of wish that my face could express all the emotions I am not feeling at the moment. But for whatever reason, it is always stuck in Resting Bitch Face mode these days? My RBF is probably why people think I am super stuck up and shit. I mean I know I can always be acting up like I am cool and shit ...but even I have feelings too. Maybe? Sometimes? Anyways, whatever...

"Well then, tell Chief Chuck I said 'hey-ho' anyways, okay?" She pouts all put out.

"No worries." I shrug this last-second feel shit off, like I do most everything else I don't care about 

"So ...I'll see ya when I see ya, little sister?" She insists on keeping that story going one last time before I bounce up outta here. "And you know you can totally always come home whenever you want to, right? Or I'll come right back from wherever I am at, as soon as you need me to be ...whatever?"

Yeah, right dynamite! And I can already see a thousand lies in her eyes behind these poor promises. I think the thing that I will miss the most about my mother are her "stories". Cause some of her stories are actually pretty damn decent. Especially for someone who doesn't always get along with the rest of her personalities when she is sober. 

But instead, I smile slices right into her storytime. "I love you too ...Mommy."

Which was suddenly a really weird moment for us. Slightly paranoid as we both looked around the airport drop off spot real quick, to make sure no one heard us. It was super strange to finally call her the M-word out loud. Seeing that she told me since I was three not to ever call her that out loud. You know, so that other people would think we were sisters instead of mother and daughter. You know ...cause she got knocked up super young working off a "problem" with my so-called "Daddy" slash small-town Sheriff, who should have totally known better. I guess crime doesn't pay after all ...well at least not child support anyways.  

"Bitch." She rolls her eyes and hugs me tightly for a minute one last time. 

"That Bitchess to you ...mutherfucker." I snort affectionately and turn to pick up my garbage bags of luggage to head off into the strip search security line. "So like adios bitch-tacos ...stay crazy and shit." 

"Right back at cha, Bitchess" I hear slurred at my back.

By the time I turn around my Sister'mom was long gone, and back to the new life that she had lied herself into with Phil. Truth is I am kind of happy she had Phil to leech on now. So at least some of the bills would maybe get paid? Maybe there would be food in the refrigerator other than Strawberry Hill Wine coolers and Cheese-Wiz. Oh, and someone else to call when she got drunk-driving lost in the desert again? But still ...I kinda wish that final parting "MutherF'er" wasn't the last thing I said to her as I checked out of her life.  

"Shit, I should probably text her to drunk drive safe? Or some other shit I don't really mean before I get on the plane?" I look down at my prepaid phone and see I only have five hours worth of minutes left. I really have to wonder if it is worth the minutes to make her feel better about whatever? 

"Whatever." I sigh and start stomping towards the security checkpoint.  

My only carry-on item is my gangsta Raider's parka, bedazzled across the back to say "Bitchess" ghetto gangsta style. I got at the Cheap Shite Outlet in ghetto ass Barstow on the cheap. Personally, I think that moniker says everything about me that needs saying at this point.   

Okay, so I totes take it back ...the thing I will miss the most about my old life is my matching rhinestone bedazzled box cutters. One that says "Bitches!" and the other that says "Stitches!" Cause that TSA touching lady confiscated my prized possessions from my makeup bag with a smirk. So I guess someone just came up on early Christmas! 

Sad to say, but my matching bedazzled box cutters are not the first thing that Las Vegas stole from my childhood ...just the last. So boo-fucking-hooter-hoo ...whatever ...cause I am outta here Bitches! 

See'ya North Las Vegas and suck it!

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Authoress Notes & Super Forking Feels!!

Hella all my Luvlies!!! Omidog! Can you forking beliebe it! I actually wrote a whole story in a day!!!    

So what did you Luvlies think about my first Chappie? Was it so totes Kool ASF or what? 

And what did you think of Bee's "Bitchess" parka? 🤩🤩🤩  

Bitchess is like Bitch + Princess = Bitchess. Me and my homegirl Quacker came up with that shiznit last week in Study Hall when we were talking trash on Courtney (That Skank!). I actually giggled so hard I almost pee-pee'd myself a little bit.

So anyways... like I need your Luvlies advice on this thing. Do you think I should keep this story going? Or should I just go back to posting random selfies of my new palliates ass in different pairs of too-tight yoga pants?

Anyways...don't be a silent reader and shit! Cause that's like really wrong and it really hurts people's feels and shit. So read, vote, over-comment, share, add to all your libraries, follow this account, create fake Facebook accounts to follow this account. So you can vote more on my stories, and all my friend's stories, but not my enemy's stories. Like that stupid skanky skank-a-lot Courtney at WillF*ck4Votes!!! I so totoes know you reported my Pilates camel toe selfie, Courtney! 
Never Forgive~Never Forget 
"Snitches get Stitches" 🪒🪒🪒

Oh and please keep my dog Mr. Bobo in your thoughts and prayers, cause we think he might have testicular cancer again. But like no one at my house really wants to check ...so gross. 🤢🤢🤢 

So we are taking him to the vet tomorrow to check his "doodads".  
OH FYI... does anyone know how to make a pug cough??? 

Anyways... until next time... LUV U LUVLIES !!! 😍😍😍