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by postalservice

8th grade xmas was alright.

I remember the big red box with the bow, it said- To: Ass From: —— (It was my mother.)

A knock on the door and a man’s face is blurred behind the stained glass- no- my mother shaved her head – about gives me a heart attack – Anyways, I open the present, and the ugliest “chuck jones” shoes, but I can’t say that. I did anyway. They didn’t fit either. She takes the box, says she’s selling em for booze, screams merry xmas, and slams the door.

I lived for the change, I guess. It all happened so fast. Fun little laugh though. Just reminiscin.

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