Barb
Carpe Scrotum
PMSing, hun?
Did I NOT tell you to refrain from addressing me in an overly familiar manner? I think I did. You are something that people scrape off the bottom of their shoes and then throw the shoes out anyway because the damage is already done. I'm confident there are ashes from a failed diaphragm, mingled with the tears of those responsible for your existence contained in a hermetically sealed container and deposited fearfully in a landfill in the hopes that replication would be impossible.
PMSing, Barb?
Better?
No, I'm not. And yes, that's better.