I didn't always have this desire to rip everything

I didn't always have this desire to rip everything up and throw it at the cat, but certainly these last fews days it's been pretty much my entire raison d'etre. Those bloody cats.
The fur balls, the constant scratching and the late night meowing! Jeez, why did I let myself become a crazy cat lady?
Honestly, I don't know: why DID I let myself become a crazy cat lady?
It sort of snuck up on me queitly and then sprung in full feline fury. Now I live in an old mansion with 57 cats & one manakete. My rich husband left me the manakete for company
. But sometimes I wonder if the manatee spies on me. I see it texting shiftily with its gnarled claws. Why would my ex-husband do that? His evil manakete follows me even into the
abandoned sidebranch of the fading shopping mall, despite the feral cats. Cheeky manakete. There is still one storefront I visit there. Maybe that is why my ex has me stalked. B
is a letter which provokes nausea in me, thanks to said ex. Yet I often find myself seated on the mall bench facing this closed store, a lingerie boutique named "B", pining for
sex, since I didn't have any anymore. None of the other "letters" would even talk to me, after what had happened with "B". As I gazed at the tiny black lace bits in the storefront,
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I was about to leave when all of a sudden I collided with D, who'd just emerged from the intimate apparel shop. D was holding a rather large
dildo when all of a sudden, his grandmother can rushing in to congratulate him on his spectacular penis size. I was envious. Filled with rage I whipped it out and

Started: 2014-01-10 08:39:10
Finished: 2014-04-24 00:45:37

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