Penis Chronicles and Other Random Observations. e-bog

One of the things that I remember most about my mother aside from spitting her false teeth out of the bus window while trying to jettison some gum, was her constant chatter. In the metronome of the daily walks my mother told me stories. She was a brilliant woman, strong, beautiful and smart. Unfortunately for her while loving the man she rebelled against the patriarchy of the society she was born into with the blame of all ills landing squarely in the lap of the not so humble penis. I spent my life trying to balance her teachings while chasing down the male race and producing two boys from the perspective I learned at her feet with often hilarious results.