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Wednesday, 09/30/2009 - 10:46 p.m.

So the Queen and I were talking about the new baby -

Queen: I could hardly understand your Aunt Chatterbox when she called because she was so excited.
Me: She left me a very loud and very confused voicemail.
Queen: Well, I guess I won't ever get to feel the excitement of a new grandbaby. *sigh*
Me: {looking at the phone in disbelief}

This is the same woman who, when I thought I was pregnant at 17, told me my only 2 options were abortion or suicide because she did not want another baby or to take care of another baby or to be around another baby. Now, granted, that conversation was almost 20 years ago and I turned out to not be preggers, but damn. She's been mostly thrilled over the years that Tattoo and I are grown and gone. And she shits peach pits at the thought of Tattoo knocking up any of his crazy and/or trashy girlfriends. Feh.

The final dental appt. is tomorrow and I won't say I'm as calm as a Hindu cow about it but I'm not wigging out like I was last week. The only way it could be any worse than last week's root canal is if she actually drilled down into the jawbone and kept on going. Now that I've jinxed it, that's probably what will happen. Feh.

DC's last day as of right now is the 16th. AssistantMan, after having the on-call phone all weekend, said to DC "Man, you weren't kidding about this phone ringing all the damn time about stupid shit!". Well, no fucking shit, Sherlock. Do you think DC just pulled all that out of his ass? I want to bitch-slap almost everyone he works with. I know hitting is not the correct answer but it sure would make me feel better. Feh.

Jerking off would probably make me feel better, too, so I'll try that first.

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