My house might be haunted, that's my story anyway.

5am. Big Ass mirror in the living room flies off the wall, taking my Big Ass glass topped sofa table with it. Phuk! It's hard to smoke, drink coffee and clean up a million shards of glass at the same time. I am blaming this on a haint. Yeah, that's it. Gotta be a haint. I mean, surely it wouldn't happen to be because I am such a dumbass that I can't hang a mirror properly, right?

I got some very good advise on how to hang stuff properly, though. Coulda used it when I was married to the ex. (evil grin). Now all I have to do is bust the coffee table and end table and I'll have an excuse to go get some that are wooden. Hell, I may do it anyway.

Oh, and about YardBoy. As usual, I am back to earth after only a few days. He can stay way over there and I'll stay way over here, thank you. At least as long as his mother is still living. Not that that can't be remedied, mind you, it's just that I don't look good in orange and there are no bubble baths in prison.