You may be the judge, as you're eyes are hopefully less clouded than mine at the moment.
I've got lots of big plans and grand dreams for my suckling little release, yet not one of them is on its way to birth. How I despise labor pains. For those of you with half a cerebral cortex I am referring to my darling Lunchboxes and Choklit Cows. I've been fucked by Puteskey. Slaved over the stove for long months and still no retribution. Ah, my child. Such high hopes. Yet like every other mother, I'm sure I'll be let down.
Dita's carring on well. Which oddly enough puts me at ease. She's promised me another photo session if I'm a good little Marilyn Mouse and clean up all my financial affair(s) by the first. (Isnt it the 2nd?) Oh well. I'm looking forward to some RIP.