Ok a little disclaimer to all my nammer friends! Don’t come chop me because of what I’m about to say. You probably know it’s true too in the back of your mind. Even though I’m talking about your mom, I mean it in the most respectful manner. And it’s not your specific mom I’m talking about, I’m just generalizing. So yes, don’t kill me. (I’m moving anyways, so you don’t where I live anymore. HA!) No just kidding. I’m not taunting. Don’t kill me.
Number 6: Done Out Nammer Moms
I went out to Cactus this weekend and at the next table sat a Vietnamese mom and her 3 daughters. I’m a big fan of nammer girls as my buddys will tell you, something about the ‘I’ll kill you if you ever piss me off’ attitude mixed in with the ‘I’ll take care of you and make sure you’re happy’ combo. The complete killer psycho bitch and the caring motherly sweetheart, all mixed into one bowl of pho and spring roll combo. I don’t know, something about the attitude that gets me. But what I don’t get is the way they dress when they’re 50+ years old. Just like a 50+ year old man who wears his pants around his knees and a backwards baseball cap and leather jacket (*cough* Hoff), please dress appropriate to your age. No one wants to see your fake ricebowl implants surrounded by wrinkly skin and makeup painted on your face so heavily that in the morning you leave that face on your pillow. The mom at Cactus was more done out than all 3 of her teenage daughters! I love the bleached blonde hair too! Keep that up and by the time you’re 55, you’ll have to buy wigs cuz it’s all been peroxide’d dead clean. The most F’d up thing was one time I was at a club with my buddy one time and he was like “Hey my aunt is here, lets go drink with her.” I was thinking, maybe his young cousin’s mom who was in her early 20’s. But no, she was probably like 60 and decked out in skin tight Marciano tank, R&R skinny jeans and 5 inch stilettos. While my friend says it’s a hot look here, I think she meant for girls in their 20’s. I don’t know about you, but I’m traumatized enough when I run into my baby sister at the clubs. I’d probably hari kari myself if I saw my mom.
(Yes I know the picture isn’t of a Nammer Mom but hey, the shirt rocks)