Mother's Day

The 39-year-old woman took a marker and wrote "PUSSY" on the leg of the boy who lay unconscious. The woman was at home with three kids: one was her 13-year-old daughter, and the daughter had invited two of her friends, a girl, 13, and the boy, 14.

The kids and the mom were in the woman's home on a Friday night, and among the four of them they had beer, pot, and cocaine. The woman also gave a couple of her prescription morphine pills to the boy, and that's why he was still unconscious on Saturday. That's when the woman wrote the word on his leg.

When the boy failed to wake up, they finally called for help, the boy died two days later in the hospital, and a year later the woman was found guilty of murder by a jury that included a relative of mine.

Salesmanship

A pitiful acquaintance, now selling a single magazine subscription door to door, visits Mrs. Bridge in her home:
At length he became aware that she was waiting for him to explain the visit, so he worked out of his pocket a crumpled little magazine which was titled The Doberman, and he held this up for her to see.

"Oh?" said Mrs. Bridge.

"I don't guess you or Mr. Bridge'd be much interested in subscribing to this, would you?"

She had suspected he was selling something, and she knew that whatever it might be she would have no use for it.

"I really hadn't planned on subscribing to any more magazines, Mr. Gadbury."

He nodded in complete understanding. "You wouldn't want it unless you had a Doberman." Then an idea came to him and he sat erect and asked, "You don't have one, do you?"

"No, we don't."

"Nobody does," he said despondently. "They eat an awful lot, I think."
From the novel Mrs. Bridge by Evan S. Connell.

It's been 25 years

She said that she was working for the ABC News
It was as much of the alphabet as she knew how to use
Her perfume was unspeakable
It lingered in the air
Like her artificial laughter
Her mementos of affairs

By a bicycle factory as they sounded the siren
And returned into the dancehall she knew he was the one
Though he wasn't tall or handsome she laughed when he told her
I'm the Sheriff of Nottingham and this is Little John

The big light came through my window and it opened up my eyelids
And it snapped them up like roller blinds and told me things that I did
I can't face another day and night of good ideas and complications
And I'm thankful that I didn't open another bottle of inspiration

When we first met I didn't know what to do
My old love lines were all worn out on you
And the world walked 'round my mouth
I didn't mean to say it
I just blurted it out
As you pretended not to notice
Or be taken aback
And I loved you there and then
It's as simple as that

He's got all the things you need and some that you will never
But you make him sound like frozen food, his love will last forever
Still he knows what you want and what you don't allow
And I hope you're happy now

As I stepped out upon the landing my heart was already down the stairs
She's in the bedroom with that boy of hers
Though her face is creased and her eyes seem strange

What do we care if the world is a joke
(Tokyo Storm Warning)
We'll give it a big kiss
We'll give it a poke
(Tokyo Storm Warning)
Death wears a big hat 'cause he's a big bloke
(Tokyo Storm Warning)
We're only living this instant

In the spring of 1986 Elvis Costello released King of America; in the fall he released Blood and Chocolate. All lyrics by Declan MacManus.