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OK. OK. OK. No more whinging, no more glum woeful posts. I refuse to allow a bunch of mormon funded, oh-what-about-the-children shrieking harridans make me miserable. Wouldn’t that just be handing them an even greater victory? The days are too beautiful to waste and will not last, R Man’s birthday is Monday so we’re making a four day weekend out of this to celebrate, we had tasty, tasty udon for dinner and besides, I’m not good at being downcast for long. It could be my sunny disposition, it could be my tiny little short attention span; whatever. I am hereby moving on.

Plus Ernesto Garimundus, the houseboy in charge of our Laundry and Wiccan Centre, says I am bumming him out and that I should stop.So what could I do?

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

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