I have no fucking idea why STEX gets so upset over the stupidest things. Does he need that much attention from me?
I swear, it's a Sunday thing, because he is still picking fights. We were planning on BBQing today, so I prepared everything---seasoned chicken wings, made green pepper skewers, and a huge tomato salad, while he readied the grill. No big whoop, one would think!
He starts talking crap about something and complaining...blah blah blah...I get annoyed, decide to take a shower, in case things get bad, and I need to get out of the house. I'm in the bathroom, and he's actually demanding where the fucking chicken wings are.
I must be taking a fucking bath with them, right? Where would wings be???? My wild guess is the fridge, aka the space vacuum. At one point, since I am ignoring the monologue he is having, he kicks the door. What a moron. Did I really pick this guy?
Scruffy is invading my brain!
Anyhoo, pain is still here, and I don't think it got that much better. Not worse, at least.
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