19 November 2013
16 November 2013
14 November 2013
13 November 2013
I said I wouldn't comment on the money deal coming up with me because Russ's rotten kin, flotsam of the Earth, are monitoring my blog. Needless to say his stepmother did not take my advice and is doing somersaults with her twat in the air to keep the money from going foreward, I'm surprised her lawyers aren't going to anti-sodomy laws to prevent the money from going to us, her lawyers have tried every other legal maneuver and I wouldn't throw it past them. When we do get the money (time is running out on her end and so are her legal tricks), I'm afraid that hag will be waiting behind bushes to trip me as I'm going down the marriage isle with Russ, throwing Christmas ornaments down at us from a church balcony, putting Epsom salt on the Crudités at our reception...I have no clue how far this control freak will go to poo poo any happiness that comes our way.
Posted by ASSHOLE BOYFRIEND at 1:22 PM
11 November 2013
I watched a movie from 1980 (you can tell it was hard for them to get over the hump of looking like it was still from the 70's) called "Night Terror" with Valerie Harper (Karen Valentine must have been busy with another movie) about a woman who's being chased on a desolate highway by a killer after witnessing the murder of the cop by the killer. After the movie I took a shower and was thinking about the movie pumicing my feet. Now every time I pumice my feet, by mental association with what I've linked with an action, I think about Valerie Harper and the untouched chef salad she left on her motel table before she got on the road and saw the crime.
Posted by ASSHOLE BOYFRIEND at 3:51 PM