With a high pitch, she shouted: “Cherie! c’est Jojotti”,
Speaking on her mobile, and wearing Laura Biagiotti,
Making everyone listen to her gossip in the process,
Trying to eat her crab salad, but only making a mess.

Jojotti, née Georgette, eldest of six brothers and sisters,
Grew up in the slums, sleeping under a star that glitters,
When it wasn’t her turn to sleep in the bed,
Stealing, when it wasn’t her turn with the bread.

Neglected up until she reached puberty,
When her growing tits promised her liberty,
After some trials and errors with the neighborhood boys,
She became a professional when it comes to men’s toys.

With her breasts still growing,
She didn’t know where she was going,
But she slammed the door of the hut knowing,
That it was all her past she was throwing.

Never mind how she survived,
And yes, she was poor and deprived,
But men never let a girl so beautiful alone,
With them in bed, she had to scream and moan.

Men, single and bullish, talked to her about marriage,
She was once pregnant, but she suffered a miscarriage,
Well, it was more of an abortion, but she’d rather forget,
She never bore another baby, so for her it was a regret.

Who said that rich men only mingle with the jet-set?
To catch Raymond, she just played a little hard to get,
His ego she definitely knew how to fully satisfy,
But as a wife to daddy’s boy, she would never qualify.

But Raymond was so infatuated with her,
Of her past and family she barely spoke,
Her parents not telling him who they were,
That mystery, Raymond never tried to poke.

But how long could he resist?
As tying the knot she feigned to resist,
She knew his parents would resign to the fact,
And eventually, she knew how to pull her act.

In the meantime, she had learned social manners,
And knew how to hide her unfaithful sexual matters,
When Raymond pretended to be a bad boy in bed,
She played his mother, as if they had never wed.

She sucked her way through the men in high society,
From their stiff wives, she offered them a fresh variety,
The gossip of the women quieted as she taught them tricks,
On how to please their men with kisses and licks.

Time passed by and she blended very well,
Of her origins no one could ever really tell,
She lacked the savoir-vivre of someone well-born,
And from the cob she loved to eat her corn.

Even in her stepmother, she bred an ally,
Pretending to love her, even if she had to lie,
Raymond’s father loved her sincerely,
He was happy when she hugged him briefly.

The child she wanted never materialized,
Of being a mother she sometimes fanaticized,
She sometimes spoke of adoption,
Until there was no more ovulation.

But at least I am being fair to her.

But all in all, of her life she was so pleased,
Thinking of where she came from, she simply ceased,
It’s not where you’re from, it’s where you’re at,
She had three maids, a dog, and a Siamese cat.

“Ok cherie, on se parle plus tard,”
She said playing with the keys of her new car,
Adjusting her designer shawl like a movie star,
She knew that in her life, she had gone very far.

She ended the call, thinking about the winter sales,
Going back to the crab salad, she cleaned her nails,
She was Jojotti, and in her little world she prevails,
She, who dares stand up against her, always fails.

He that is without sin among you,
Let him cast the first stone at her,
I know I am not saying something new,