I have thrown myself at the shark. Thank you all for your wonderful suggestions on my query. Let’s see if the shark takes the bait, and rips my little prose love to shreds. I hope. If I’m gonna get ripped apart, let it be done as fabulously as only the Shark can.
In other news, spring is here. If you’ve been hiding under a rock (with your laptop, albeit) then you’ve been missing out on some fantastic weather. Not that it’s without its mandatory douchebags, but one must take the good with the bad, and the idiotic. For example, why are you walking around in your bikini top with ripped jeans and flip flops? It’s spring, not pool-side summer, idiot. You may think you’re hot, you’re momma may think you are pretty, but that’s where the kind thoughts end. And to Mr. Badass who insists on wearing the wife beater tank top just so you can show off your scabbing shoulder tattoo, let me tell you sir, you are an ass, ass!
Regardless, the sun is out, and while the morons are out too, I still find it to be an opportune time to peel away from the keyboard and soak up some golden rays. Even if I have to stare (and I do stare) at your God’s evidence that he does, in fact, have a sense of humor.