At some point during the deep dark hours of Sunday morning amid the PBR and Hookah smoke Teeny Sasquatch Fuglord III (aka Christine) was given complete control of my love life for an unspecified amount of time. It would be almost impossible for her to do a worse job that the other people who have been in charge in the past 21 years. And she's already proven (on a very cold, drunk on 40s, textmessage-tastic December night) that she gets results.
It's in her hands now, the fetus of mess that we call my love life.
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