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How to dismantle an atomic bomb?

Holyfuckingshit! 7am, Holly vomits. Blood sugar way low. Run around getting shit to test & raise her blood sugar.

Minutes, and i mean mere minutes later, the dog starts puking up what smells like really nauseating, pungent poo, with pieces of dog food and plastic and things I never saw him ate and cannot identify. And again. And again. And again. Lather, rinse repeat. Ad, no pun intended, nauseum. And diarrhea. And more and more vomiting.

I feel like a fucking atom bomb was dropped on my head. Battle stations! Brace for impact! Emergency power!

My fingers are sore and my stomache is hurting, I’m exhausted and I’m stressed out and I’m sure my blood pressure’s high; I feel like i’m falling apart. And I’m the only one here who’s in good shape these days!

By jae

jae lethe (he/she/they) is a blogger, musician, artist, poet, web developer/designer, armchair philosophizer, teller of tales, and gadabout. Also, something he calls a "behavioral artist." (Not sure.) She has plans. BIG plans.

Among the things that he has done for a laugh are minor fractures, cuts, scrapes, and various scabs. Though she's quick to point out that they're no imbecile, we're fairly certain that he thinks the word means some kind of medieval pharmacist.

This is her latest home on teh internets - where jae stores their swear words, when they're not hurling them at the sun in vain.