My vagina is trying to kill me
my vagina is trying to kill me. maybe, it's my uterus. my ovaries and I have never been friends. in fact, they've had it in for me since high school. all I know is if they don't all calm the f*ck down, they're going to meet the ugly end of a wire hangar and some bactine. right now, I am so jacked up on estrogen that I've turned into a skinny-cow-eating-lifetime-movie-marathon-watching-hot-flash-having-meredith-baxter-birney-worshiping-blubbering mess. I've said it before and I'll say it again; mother nature is a b*tch and if I knew where she lived, I'd hunt her down and punch her in her dick. the only upside is i've had more time to plan my wedding to my pretend boyfriend future husband @NathanFillion. I'm confident he'll realize he can't live without free tech support wrapped in a blonde, cynical, sarcasam-laden package and rescue me from retail ambivalence.
it could happen, dicks.