Let's just say my life doesn't revolve around 3 a.m. feedings, my mans screaming, "But I own this trailer!" as he throws whiskey bottles through our corn husk drapes, and making sweet love behind Old Man Pumpernickel's marijuana patch during Sunday church services.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Exactly five more months until my 18th birthday (okay, minus two days). I can already hear my joints creaking on cue (but it might just be the door). Hurry, Watson! Get my iron lung ready! For it is time to face the infamy that is Chronos.