Seriously, though. Can you imagine what a painful life it would be in his shoes — to be so full of anger all the time.

Anger — the cover-up emotion. He fails. And fails. And fails. And can’t accept that the common denominator in all his failures is yours truly.


It’s that goddamned vagina. Laughing at him.

I always wonder what people like that think of our olive branches. I know they react to the gesture with scorn and ridicule but I always wonder if they feel anything else. Regret?


Just remembered the old man.

So, nope.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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