suck it, dorothy.

I should have listened to my intuition about this weekend.
simple things made complicated.
riding shotgun with my aggravation is guilt.
no doubt,
he leads a hard life.
The evil, pickled old wench
has the patience of a saint when it comes to him.
so I reckon,
there is some good in everybody.
though, in her case,
her good is relative to the size of a mustard seed.
this weekend was good,
but very stressful.
I'm glad I'm home...