This is a really sad blog !

 I know we are busy but , at least we can post some cool links or something, anything. Do we really have no words of wisdom to impart, nothing to bitch about? Really? Really? I have felt like utter dirt lately and have had nothing good to say so there fore I have said nothing. But I suppose even crap has it's uses. As I am

Some times she wonders why  he fills his mind with scenes that don't uplift him. If he feeds himself murder and madness that is what he will become. Even if it is not a transformation in the literal sense. He likes the cups turned up in  the cupboard and some times she forgets and other times she just doesn't give a fuck.  When he comes home he feels the need to remind them which way the cups go, as if the man who lives there less than half the time has any say in what manner the glasses will lay upon the shelves. The shelves in the kitchen, the one that she cooks in. He'll turn them all rightside up.
  If it's order that makes him feels safe he's chose a very poor mate.