Mercer, May I?

This is my mom, Rene.’

Well, the one on the left is my mom…I’m the one on the right. She’s is one sexy bitch really classy-looking lady, isn’t she?

Mom is a Cancer and was born in the same year as Jerry Seinfeld, Oprah, John Travolta, and the creepy guy on “Lost.” She is 5’4″ and never wears flat shoes…never.  She has hazel eyes, light auburn hair, and a huge rack (obviously).  She loves Victorian architecture, long walks on the beach, and movies that are politically incorrect and lack any current relevance (i.e. “Holiday Inn,” in which Bing Crosby does “black face”).   She has ophidiophobia (an abnormal fear of snakes…not just actual snakes but also rubber snakes, snakes on TV, even pictures of snakes), and she just learned how to do the “Cha Cha Slide.”

She doesn’t like short, chubby, bald men; men who have Oedipus complexes; men who are easily offended by cursing or Stephen Colbert; men who are unemployed (unless they’re comfortably retired or independently wealthy); or men who identify themselves as “republicans.”  If you still qualify, hopefully you are handsome and educated, have a good sense of humor, and like animals (read: are a veterinarian, run a pet store, or maybe own a small petting zoo).  And age is just a number…unless you’re on a ventilator or use a walker.  FYI, anyone taking her to dinner  should avoid trying to feed her anything that could have once been considered “cute” before it got to her plate (i.e. rabbit, duck, venison, etc.).

Anywho, if you or someone you know may be her perfect match, I will need a resume, three personal references from people who aren’t family members, a criminal background check, and a photo.   No penis pictures, please.