Ms Mother's Day

For some, Mother’s Day is about celebrating the lady who gave up the prospects of being a vaginal model for you. For others, it’s a day to showcase what a shit-hot daughter you are in an unadulterated display of self-absorpery. 

Sara awaken in some modest Bunbury accommodation and races to her Getz to return to Perth. The ill-effects of over-refreshment and party drugs at Groovin' the Moo have her looking like Gollum after an 12 orc gangbang.

She pulls over on the side of the road to chunder up a ripe mix of stomach lining and Bile-cardi Breezers. To prove the vom-slurry isn't the worst thing to come out of her she starts hammering out a Facebook status to honour her Facebook-less mother:

“Happy Mothers Day to the best mummy in the world! You are my best friend, my world and I appreciate everything you have done for me. You deserve the best xxx #bff #bestmum #humbledaughter”.

Clearly “the best” refers to a $20 Dusk Candle and the second cheapest bouquet of flowers from the roadside van guy. Sara is running late and most of the flowers have been snapped up. Alas, she is forced to choose from the sloppy seconds, the Dockers' Interchange bench of the floral world.

Upon arrival, Sara presents her mother with her gifts and asks her mum to also pose with a bottle of Moet that her brother bought. She posts the photo “#luckymum #gooddaughter #gifts”. She is inundated with kudos for her cunt-erosity.

Her likes-fiesta is interrupted by her father announcing that brunch is ready. While mum attempts a little toast, Sara is zooming around the table like a hashtagging blowfly trying to get the perfect angle for her brunch photo. She barely listens to her mother’s pleasantries as she hammers out another FB post:

“Made mum brunch! Oh, and a couple of champagnes? Why not, you deserve it mum ;) This daughter cleans up alright ay haha lol xxx#igotitfrommymamma #happymothersday#luckymum”.

She attempts to enjoy a glass of bubbly but the alcohol makes her feel sicker than Kerser on results day at the sexual health clinic.

After waging an unwinnable battle against half a croissant she lazes on the couch and basks in the baking sun of faux-daughtery.

Daughter of the year.

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