Any of you who know me will know how novel this is: I have slept every night for the past week. I haven't been able to say that for about a year. My new Fuck You Cancer cocktail of pills beats radiation's ass and makes me feel human again. Or at least semi-human. Not sub-human at least.
The boy's mom and sister come in tomorrow. It will be a long, sober, sex free weekend. Wish me luck with the Canadian Invasion.
(Have I mentioned how fucking fabulous he is? Yes, yes, I think I have.
)
The boy's mom and sister come in tomorrow. It will be a long, sober, sex free weekend. Wish me luck with the Canadian Invasion.
(Have I mentioned how fucking fabulous he is? Yes, yes, I think I have.
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heehee
*pounce*
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?"
Actually it's more of a Thundercats reference, but the spelling is all Willy Blake.