Hell, poetry runs thru my veins, chica. Bad poetry, maybe, but poetry, nonetheless. Too bad no one pays for it; I am no Rimbaud, and have no Verlaine, so..

Well, The Other One threw a tantrum of such epic proportions that there was just no denying him, this time, around. I guess I should finish that story business, and resolve this...issue..maybe this weekend. Since we're all still alive and all. I have no excuse..