Bitches, Man.

Men, bitches.

Integrate over my complex planes and I'll tell you a secret: we all have our own snowflake special brand of asshole and it isn't about finding the right mate or mat, it is about finding someone to take your bratty ways in stride.  And you gotta be able to take their ways, too, though I admit it is better to dish than 'tis to receive.

What does one week teach us, my darling little beastlings?  What it has always taught us: not a fucking thing, no how, no where, not now, not then, never did, never will, nuh uh, nothing, nada, bye.

Because the days go so slow but the years go so quick and did you know that we change our memories each time we access them?  What you should be asking is: do they change us?  Ask anyone, except those laying around after a bad maybe break-up feeling drunk for themselves.  The last time I broke up with someone I felt so much better the farther I got from it, in an n-factorial sort of way.  The color returned to my cheeks, even as I belly-crawled with a baby on my back under the electrified fence and into the Haslet sun.

Well, I love you all even if you don't love me and I wish I could stay longer to give you advice you didn't ask for, that doesn't apply, or is just completely wrong but I gotta go make someone laugh so hard their head explodes, soooooo...I'll be taking that, thank you!