No one look at the G right now. She’s been bounced off of seven flights and I’m not actually sure where she is. Other than a state of furious rage. I hope a fabulous week in Vegas is worth the decision to fly on the day the FAA finally decided to grow a pair and bites the hand that feeds them. And other mixed metaphors.
On the home front, it’s me, the dog, the fish and a foot full of stitches. My option are: suck it up and go see Pig Destroyer at the Black Cat and hope no one steps on my mutilated limb or ignore the huge pile of dishes in the kitchen and play Wii.
I the choice is obvious. Up, Down, Up, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, Up, Down, + unlocks all the costumes.