November 21, 1949

Today is my mommy's birthday.

And I Love mom-dukes! Which then makes me wonder about how people use the word "Love".

I may be in the hot-bed of anti-family values and liberal debauchery otherwise known as California, and even RIDE with these pot-smoking, wave surfing, gang culture revolutionizing, methamphetamine producing, ATV dirt dune jumping, South San Diegan drug trafficking, sun set watching, no rain seeing, bad driving homo sapiens.

But I have to cut my pluralism off in some places. Love is one of them.

'Cause when a boyfriend and a girlfriend ... or maybe even a boyfriend and a boyfriend ... or maybe even a girlfriend and a girlfriend ... or a girlfriend and a boyfriend -- which is not the same as a boyfriend and a girlfriend because they are different because kn'amsaying?

... when any one of these variations says they Love each other. I'm like ... kn'amsaying?

Matios' Definition of Love > Yours

But this isn't about me being right again. It's about my mommy.

She herniated disks, shat blood, had her brain all aneurized, herniated intestines, fell off ladders, woke up in the mornin' to concoct the most magnificent breakfastases in the world ...

And above all else raised my brethren and sister and myself to be who we are. And considering some conditions ... that's a trip.

My mommy taught me how to Love.