"I see dead people."
death, grief, isn't emotional currency. it's a savings account, a nest egg you can fall back on. it's private, not a game piece. not leverage.
now that i've tricked keifus into watching "biggest loser", i can safely retreat into the loving arms of a false bachelor's schadenfruede; he asked for it.
moonpie is currently hogging the bed. perfect fire in stove.
do we want these people to be real? no. i want them to be not real. because if people are actually like this, we're doomed.
mich-restraining order-elle. nice lilt.
"i've wanted talk to you so badly." you just did. not even counting grammnar.
in other words, let's just all get it over with, go nuts, and join a cult. we did already?
sorry. i get blue this time of year. being up north helps, but also doesn't.
and i messed up my back chopping wood.
who gave my nieces permission to grow up and get engaged?
mlkj, rest in everlasting peace. moonpie, you just rest, m'girl. big rainy day tomorrow.
ricky was good last night.