The Fuck Off Queen of Little River County

 Hello! 

Gosh, it’s been a while since I’ve posted. Life has been INSANELY busy. 

Below is a little bit of an idea I’m playing with. It has a mind of its own, which is fine by me – I haven’t written anything since finishing Message to New York (which still needs edited and submitted for publishing). 

It looks like this tale, The Fuck Off Queen of Little River County, will be something of a remix of history and satire. 

What if the Confederacy had won the war?

This is the story of Antebellum Lee, great (x5) granddaughter of Robert E. Lee, the second president of the Confederate States of America. The country evolved (read: devolved) to an oligarchy and named the Lees as the royal family of Dixie, the renamed country.

Hmmmmm…

((**cough** not edited **cough**))

 

 

Image

 

 

Fuck.

 

That’s all. 

I hate being the cliché bitch with the broken nail, the run in my seamed stockings, and the gum on the bottom of my red-soled shoe. Damn it. I bet it’d feel great to take these new, spiky-toed pumps and give a good kick to the asshole I was here to see. I’m only worried he’d bleed and make more of a mess; that was one thing I did not need. 

What the fuck was the deal with New Yorker’s and spitting their gum in the path of busy, rushing pedestrians. Have they no class? To treat their fellow citizens in this a way is awful, but to treat a queen – yes, big-Q, Queen – as such? Appalling. 

 

Fuckers. 

 

I’ve heard horror stories of the yankees, and, from what I’ve witnessed, they are all true. It’s impossible to stop my eyes from wandering toward the stinking street drain to check for rats, and alligators, and other vile creatures. 

 

Being here in the first place has wedged its way into my nerves the way Daddy’s personal militia would drive splinters and rusty screws into the nail beds of the dissenters. No wonder he was assassinated. The bastard was rotten… God rest his soul. 

 

Good gracious, I’ve walked all of twenty feet toward the door of the Federal Building, and the stench of body odor, food vendor’s carts, and car exhaust is already making me nauseous. Well, I blame those things, anyway. 

I can’t believe I have to come to this country to see the fucking spying traitor who knocked up a queen. 

Asshole Yankee. He betrayed the wrong girl. 

Advertisements

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s