Things you might read about here: food, animals, my amusing tendency to be struck by odd ailments, and how cute my boyfriend is. You've been warned.
My Neuroses For Your Entertainment
My parents’ house is frighteningly clean and my mother is still chopping things in the kitchen and muttering to herself at 11pm. This is how Thanksgiving horror movies start.Â
(Oh Dear Sweet Lord, please don’t let that creepy eyeless victorian doll she has be her instrument of death. I am scared it will try to suck my soul into its eye sockets.)
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