Day After the Other Date I Don’t Know, 1922
Go ahead, chastise me for STILL not knowing what the freak the date is! I ate a rotten peach after the laundry fiasco yesterday and have been suffering “internal distress” ever since…at least I guess it was the peach. What else could inspire vomiting to this degree?
So yeah. I haven’t been anywhere to ask anybody what date it is. Mick gave me strict orders to stay in bed while he’s in the cotton field…guess he doesn’t want to come home to bloody carnage or a sudden inadvertent shifting of our existence into the orc dimension.
Can’t say that I blame him. Excuse me, I must release the internal distress again!
Diabloggical Me 