i loved my step-son jonathan.
i really did.
i didn't want to kill him.
i was so happy he got to come home on leave.
i think i went temporarily insane.
how can anybody be expected to be sane
at SIX F'N FIFTEEN in the MORNING!
do you think i'll be acquitted?
i'm sure it falls under "a crime of passion"
i'm verrrry passionate about my sleep.
damn his deep, loud, booming, voice.
in the words of Frickin' A,
the tree. the gifts. the mistletoe kiss.
shoot. me now. i'm sick of all my relatives.
have merry merry merry frickin' christmas!