1) My gramps, the man who raised me as his own, passed away. This led to a lot of family conflicts and an introduction of my partner to the family, who are rather Christian people. This did not go down terribly well.
2) Lost my job. Whoop.
3) Doctors whacked me back on anti-depressants. It's been a good eight years since I had the need for them, but I guess I saw this one coming when most days I couldn't be bothered to get out of bed.
4) Break-up. You know the story.
Anyways, enough of my miserable life, got some stuff to add up and deviants to catch up on...
Hmmm... *checks deviations*
HOW MANY?
*faints*






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--
Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and finally for money.
--
Im bringing sexy back...
Dirty babe, you see these shackles baby
Im your slavee,
Ill let you whip me if I misbehave
Its just that no one makes me feel this way.
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