There are times when I wonder if I’m insane. Because, from my perspective, I’m either insane of I derive some perverse pleasure from having the Botoxed, mani-pedied, wives who lunch call me a fat idiot. Under those circumstances being insane is certainly preferable. They come in here either in groups or toting dogs who weigh less than a bag of
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Nice to see this. Going to have to reread it, but I just wanted you to know how glad I am you posted this. Maybe you'll finish it? *Raises a brow* Hmm?
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