Snatch Express Incoming
Officially, I am grossly behind on my e-mails, grossly , like it's embarrassing how behind I am in e-stalking people back. My sincere apologies. The past four days have been a cluster fuck wrapped in a riddle, served on burnt toast with rotting oysters and penicillin drenched cheese. The Way We Were, saltines and Ginger Ale, my combo cure-all for stress, is doing fuck all. I have stressrhea, stomach pains that would make Satan climax, nausea to the point of making bulimics everywhere green with envy. Oh, wait, and I'm ovulating. If I were fucking, even myself, I'd be worried about getting knocked up. I'm too stressed out to take 5 minutes and spin a get-myself-off yarn. The shame. It's time to back the fuck off and re-evaluate my life. Before I do... I'm supposed to participate in a sleep study because of my freakish, incessant nightmares. My shrinktail hooked me up with a Sleep Daddy Doctor of Doom. Whatever. I called their office today to inquire about the pro...