Heartwarming: Decrepit woman shares letter detailing renewed perspective on life after disturbing and frankly embarrassing accident

Plus—her life changing advice to young women considering abortion

Dear Marge,

Doris here. Happy 91st. I’ve sat down to compose this letter to share what I think about this Roe v. Wade controversy I’ve been seeing on my television. Lord help these young people—have they any morality left in them?

But first I must share something truly horrid.

I’m writing this letter to you through the conduit of an oafish six and a half foot tall man because, well, I accidentally blew my goddamn hands off in a kitchenware explosion.

I’ll spare you the details of the accident. It transpired as you might imagine. The boy helping me is a handful and truly awful at spelling. He says that computers fix all of the problems anyways, but I think that’s hardly the point. On the bright side, he fucks like he just got back from Korea. Everything happens for a reason I suppose.

As you and I both know Marge, there are more important things in this world than me and my old severed hands.

Women of this day and age have really lost their way. It brings me great joy to see that those boys over at the courts have finally decided to put a stop to all the malarkey.

To be frank, I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Did these young girls not make their decision when they committed those acts of lust and adultery? It’s about time they stop whining and get through pregnancy the same way women have been doing for generations—one cigarette at a time.

I understand that motherhood isn’t easy. Shoot, nothing in this life is easy. Just recently my granddaughter bought me a new kind of telephone that requires me to scan my fingerprint before I can see all of my calls and texts. Irony is a whore that insists on following me to the grave it seems.

But just because raising a child is hard doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. You know as well as I how many resources are available to young mothers: parenting books, tree branches, belt buckles, and plenty of other household items that can be used to discipline unruly children when needed.

Believe me, there are always ways to handle the difficulties that come with motherhood.

Say, what if you have a smart-aleck child with a case of the devil’s tongue? See if their tone changes after getting a mouthful of soap.

Or maybe you need a little time to yourself? Take a deep breath and exhale that sweet cloud of smoke from your Camel blends—it’ll create a barrier between you and all the mischief.

And what about children that are lazy good-for-nothings? Put them to work I say. I remember we used to have little Johnny and Debra spend entire summers painting the barn out back. And yes, they never failed to complain that the paint made their heads feel all woozy. I suppose the youth have always been sensitive.

As a great mother yourself, I’m not saying anything you don’t already know. It just breaks my old heart to sit here and watch the liberal abortion agenda harm the innocent youth of this country.

Too many children lost to this horrible practice. Too many hands lost in fiery fucking crockpot explosions. But nonetheless, my faith in the higher powers remain steadfast.

Faith in our Lord.

Faith in modern medicine.

And faith in the Supreme Court.

Sincerely yours,

Doris

P.S. No, never mind, I forgot what I was going to say.