Did the
little posey call me? No. Did he think that I as his ever loving boss might be concerned about his whereabouts? No.
I give up on you little flower pot. I am hurt. Crushed. Despondent. And more than just a little upset.
Now excuse me as I go drown my Angel sized angst in a Sea-breeze.
This is me leaving in a huff. A very dignified
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