Hey mom, this Mother’s Day I wanted to thank you for all the things you’ve done for me. I know I probably don’t say these kind of things as often as I should; it’s just I’m not very good at this heartfelt kind of stuff — so all I’m going to say is fuck off and die.

You’ve always been there for me, since the beginning. When I cried, you were there to comfort me. When I was sick, you were there to nurse me back to health. But I can’t articulate the heartfelt thanks appropriate, which is why I implore you to fuck off and die. This mushy stuff makes me uncomfortable; I’m not the kind of guy who just wears his heart on his sleeve. Perhaps if I were to really try I could muster a “Thanks bitch”, but even that makes my ooshy gooshy heart show a little more than I’d like.


I wish I could be one of those people that buys flowers and chocolates, or writes poems. But you know that’s not me. It never has been. If only you knew how much you meant to me. But you never will. Fuckin’ is what it is.

I hope what I’m saying this Mother’s Day holds a candle to the “You don’t suck ass“ card I made you last year. I really cherish you, and your positive influence in my life has and will be everlasting, but I would never say gooey shit like that, you know? You understand. Die fast and in a fire.

Ryan Creamer writes for Mashable. Follow him in on Twitter at @ryguyguyry.

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