Hi everybody! My name’s Erma and I’m Greg’s third cousin by birth. I live in Matador, Texas, which sits between Amarillo and Lubbock, but I’m up here in the big city visiting with Greg’s mama and stuff. His mama’s my mama’s oldest sister and her and my other cousin Stephanie whose Greg’s sister let me come back with them since they were down home for a school reunion anyway. It’s nice up here; down home it’s hot as sin cause we all out in the country and stuff. Matador only got 700 people living there and five hundred of those are Mexicans or black folk like me. They let me stay over here while Greg be at work during the day and stuff.

I asked what he do for a living but all he says is that he works for the Man? Who that? Plus what kind of stuff Greg be doing in here anyway? All kinds of pictures of half naked women on the walls, makes me glad we’re cousins and all, he nasty. Though to tell you the truth? Back home that don’t stop nobody anyways. Somebody’s kin always climbing up on somebody like theres was no tomorrow. No wonder half the townsfolk look like everybody else. Plus up here they got the air conditioned air and stuff. Good thing Greg left his computer on. I’ve been learning the computer in my specials skills class up at the school. In another year I’ll have my GED and stuff and I can get a real job typing up at the prison.

That’s where my mama works, she be up in the kitchen plus my daddy’s inside doing five to ten for shooting at the Rangers last year. Daddy got a thing about cows and once he takes a liking to one he just has to have it. But the Rangers got too close one night so daddy let loose with his old shotgun. Old bastard lucky he’s not dead, plus I’m glad he’s in jail. Here I am damn near thirty year old and he still insists on washing my back every time I bathed and stuff. On Oprah she be saying that kind of thing ain’t right. But you know what they say back home right? “Can’t stop an old dog from licking his balls”. Well, unless you cut off his dog balls and stuff. But don’t wait and let the dog get too old now. Cause all that do is make the dog mean and stuff. Well I gotta go and visit with some more of my kin while I’m here. Don’t you’ all be letting Greg know I was on his computer and stuff. He don’t need to know no how. Bye






Hi everybody, it’s Erma again.
Greg found out yesterday that I wrote to you all, but he wasn’t too mad and stuff. He’s just making me clean his house and told me that when he gets home from work he’d let me toss his salad. He must be stopping by the store on the way home cause he got nothing in his kitchen for making salad with. Theys must be a lot of mens eating salad lately, I overheard my daddy one time telling mama that he’s always tossing salads in prison. Greg came home late last night; he’d been out with some of his friends up at this movie house called the Empire Room? We got no movie house back home, we needs to ride up to Lubbock if we want to see one, Matador got nothing and stuff. Greg tole me that when they all got there they found this couple having sex in the movie room. Lord! The way ya’ll go on up here in the city. But Greg said everybody went on back anyway and turned on the film and the couple hopped up and ran out.

I wanted to go but he tole me to stay my butt at home. So now that he done upped and pissed me off, excuse my French but I’m ah gonna tell you all a few things about ole Greg. Ya’ll know cousin Greg is crazier then a cowboy sissy right? His mama, my aunt Jessie Mae, tole me that when he was just a baby and stuff, he stuck a butter knife in a electric socket and got hisself blown into the next room. He never acted like the other kids after that. Plus his mama also says that he got hisself smacked in the head a lot when he worked as a bouncer and stuff.

And he always be necked and stuff. I never seen no grown man like going without clothes like him. Lord, the boy walked out of the bathroom last night and said he wanted to show me something called a windmill, but I was watching Miss Oprah’s movie the Color Purple and wasn’t paying him no mind. So he went on to bed. And he always be doing something called surfing the net. His butt too big to be surfing anything if you was to ask me. But I needs to be at the bus station is a bit, I gotta catch the Greyhound back to Matador. It’s been fun seeing all my kin and visiting.





Hi everybody! It’s me again, Cousin Erma logging on from Sturgis! I guess we’ll all be heading back home early Saturday morning right after breakfast. I’ll be glad to get back home to Matador cause I’m here to tell you what. Biker’s? They be nasty, last night I was told I was gonna go on a train ride? Well, there weren’t no train, no sir. All I can say is good thing I’m in shape from having to walk up to the prison every day to go to work. Wooo, them boys tried their darnest to wear me out, but hell, and excuse my French, I do more then that on Saturday nights back home when daddy gets into the whiskey cabinet. Old bastard.

But at least they were all friendly and stuff, the way they all stood in line waitin they turn. I did get a chance to go see Mount Rushmore, very impressive. Though on the ride back my weave fell out, I guess it got loosened from all the tussling that went on the night before. I like riding on the back of a bike, except when the biker feller be stinking and all. I pays no mind to the wind or the bugs and riding on the back of one is just like sitting on a big ole vibrator, oops, excuse my French again, that wasn’t very lady like. But when you gots all that stank flowin back over you, it kind’a sours the butter if you know what I mean. Cause my eyes be watering and my nose gets all closed up and it just be hard breathing and stuff.

That’s why I like riding with the chapero biker’s from back home, cause they be smellin sweet and stuff, them being cowboy sissies and all. Except when we pull into truckstops to eat? Them pink Harley’s they ride tend to attract more attention then needs be. But they’s some good old boys, like Greg always say, happier then a retard with a snow cone, and prettier then a new cow. And speaking of snow cones? You can keep that snowballin, that just ain’t right. You never hear of anybody back home in Matador doing anything like that. Well, I gots to be going now, I done signed myself up for some mud wrestling; we can use the gas money and all. So ya’ll be good now and maybe when I come up to Kansas City for Christmas I’ll ask Greg to let me log on so as to say hi. Bye now!





Hi everybody! Remember me? This heres Greg’s cousin Erma from Matador, TX, except that I’m not in Matador or Kansas City, I’m in Sturgis with all the biker’s.
I called Greg last week and tole him I be coming up this away with some of my Mexican biker friends from Matador. I was up here with them all last year and had such a good time I had to go for it again. And he tole me that if I got near a computer I could log on and drop a line to ya’ll, so here I am! Cause since I talked to ya’ll last year I done gone and got my GED and stuff, now I got skills and a good job makin a whole 8 dollar an hour typing up at the prison in Matador. But don’t ya’ll be worrying and stuff, I’m still the same ole Erma, I don’t let makin all that money go to my head.

Lord above, I loves me some biker’s, they so friendly, heck, tonight a bunch of em tole me they’d take me for a train ride later, how nice is that? And whatever snowballin is I’m gonna get to do some of that too. I thought since I was black and stuff I have trouble fittin in, but theys all tole me that titties is titties. And after talkin to cousin Greg I figured since all the other womens were showin theirs I could show mine. Plus my daddy back home in Matador always be telling me that mine be better then mamas anyhow. I guess he know since he’s always lookin at em, old bastard.

Greg asked me to look up something called orange county bikes? Lord, if my ass a wasn’t stuck to the back of me I’d for sure lose it, I meant orange county choppers! I guess Greg watches they show all the time and that they build choppers.
But here in Sturgis all they have is a couple of small stands, cause most of they stuff is at Rapid City which is about 25 mile from where I’m at. Somebody tole me that because the bike rally is so big it stretches out into all the nearby towns. Plus Rapid City is where Mount Rushmore is so a lot of bikers end up there anyways.

But here on Main Street they be so much to see, as far as I can look is nothing by bikes, and you sure can tell which bikers got hotel rooms and which camp out. Lord some of them boys stink, I’m sorry, not stink but stank. I sure hope they don’t go on the train ride with me. Well I gots to be going now, some of my friends be hollering at me to come on. But before I go be needing to say hi ya’ll to cousin Stephanie back in Kansas City. I heard tell she had some kind of operation and is all stove up at home. Hi cousin! Get better! Well let me sign off and swing a leg over the back of this here hog, that’s what they call bikes up here you know. Bye now!