Remind me never to ask about that again…

I recently asked my mom why she never put any underpants on me as a child. The answer I got from said mom, “Oh, Jessie, don’t be so uptight.” Uptight? Oh yeah, my mom was/is a hippy, gypsy, plays by her own rules and never admits to having raised me, well, unorthodox to say the least. I use the word ‘raised’ quite loosely because it was a bit of a shit-show at my house growing up; naked adults screwing on the lawn, vegan lunches leaking out of brown, paper bags assuring me I wouldn’t have even one friend at school and the thrift shop clothes I wore that stank like a family had been murdered in them. I’m sure my mom would’ve taken better care of me if she’d not been so stoned throughout my childhood, but having your neighbors fucking next to your kid and your boyfriend sleeping with his guns may just put a gal in a numb state for quite some time. Love ya mom!

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About thejesswood

raised by hippies reared by gang members=actress, writer, gun moll, stand up comic
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