Chores Chores Chores Chores Chores.

The Ladies return today. (No, I'm no talking about Rob Crow's side-project with super-ritalin kid Zack Hill, I mean MY Ladies, the one who lets me kiss her sometimes and the other one what was made by all the kissin'. Sheesh.)

I still have pigs to shave, cows to slop, lawns to milk, hobos to chase and bodies to dispense of; the poker game in the basement's just about wrapped up, which is alright, but the group of old Chinese guys playing mah-jong in the garage just ignore my frantic knocks at the door (and that's where I keep the weed-whacker, which is what I need to fend off the wasps!), and those hookers gotta go, I don't care where, they just gotta GO.

Also: must find a way to trick Bryn into falling down the well. He's gettin' a mite uppitty, and I figger a couple days in the 'Glory Hole' might do him some good.

Anyway: busy day. Might talk later.

(This is all just my way of disguising the fact that I spent the entire weekend watching movies and playing Prince of Persia on the PS3.)