Moods are a funny thing.
I wear grief today like the lead apron the dentist's X-ray tech drapes over you just before they tell you to "Bite down please" on a Lego block the dog chewed earlier.
Get behind the wall, get the shot, and get this off me--I'm ready to be done.
Monday, November 3, 2008
"Which Tooth Hurts?"
Posted by Doc at 7:40 PM
Labels: relationships
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