aaaa for the love of GOD
I want to know where my fucking husband is.
In other news, the twins sleep better in the London apartment than they have been on...Planet Buttfuck Asswhere, so I'm going to be here overnight. Staring at the wall. Smoking out the window. Potentially I will drink this one last beer in the fridge.
Elliiiiiiiiiiiiie at some point get back to me about that realtor thing. I would like to be doing something useful. That would be fucking excellent.
In other news. Because I haven't mentioned it. My father killed himself recently. His publisher is releasing his books as special editions in the wake of his death. I get to write introductions or dedications or...whatever the hell it is they want me to do. I'll probably share this wonderful experience with my brother.
I WANT TO KNOW WHERE MY FUCKING HUSBAND IS.