Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Signs a Mo Wants You to Babysit...Her Nugs
You hold the door for a Mo who’s grappling with her tiny moppets and a bag of supplies. She rushes in, parks the gear and the kids, then mouths the words ‘thank you’ while cupping your balls. ‘Opps, wrong sack’ she says, gathers up her nippers and bag, and flounces away, never looking back.
You’re at the gym, banging some plates. You spot a Mo, 10 o’clock. You’ve seen her drop her kids in childcare before, so you know that bitch is a Mo. She motions you to come over. ‘Do you know if I’m doing this right' she asks as she pivots, bends over, and reaches for her toes. Confused you say ‘are you doing a forward bend correctly?’ She straightens herself and turns to you. ‘You call it a forward bend, I call it getting you to take a good look at this keister.’
You’re getting gas. Leaning against your tricked out Honda Accord, a mammoth mini-van pulls up behind you. A hot as balls Mo steps out, clearly overwhelmed and in a hurry. Your eyes meet ‘hey – would you mind pumping my gas?’ she inquires, as she swipes her card, her eyes never leaving yours. ‘Sure,’ you shoot back ‘what kind?’ You insert the gas pump into the van, she puts her hand over yours and whispers ‘Supreme. Fill me up with only the best.’