Irritated beyond comprehension by the lack of Bear’s control over his bloody annoying daughter, both were in the firing line of my damned-near volcanic temper.
Bear called the police… it was a better solution than allowing me to go around there to tell them to shut the fuck up… or else… I’d have no problem throwing my toaster in their pool.
No, you’re not seeing double. No, I didn’t post the same thing twice. No, I’m not mad… okay, I’ll rescind that statement… I’m a little mad, and a little frustrated, and a bit pissed off to be fair.
I’ve done the housework and now am exhausted. The anxiety come-down is a bitch. I have a headache, feel lethargic and emotionally drained and have no appetite.
His tattoo artist friend was actually pretty good and the results of her work are acceptable.
He feels anyone not playing the game his way is not playing the game properly, so are holding him back. I’m a predatory player. The first time, I’ll observe my opponents and how they play.