I shall be victorious.
I have a demon closet door from the blackest pit of all that oozes the most vile of cess and sputim.
No.
I'm serious.
I took the track off this morning in my next attempt to fix it.
Then I bought stock in bandaids.
Off to see my first born and perhaps stop by the vortex known as Home Depot.
Dammit.
I get so fucking tired of being frustrated by trying, and needing, to be able to DO it all.
Oh well.
Play those cards your dealt and knock another thing off the list of life.
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