What Comes Around Goes...Oh Who Cares.

I'm physically depressed. Like there's another kind. I felt my neurotransmission slip this afternoon. Wonder what a rebuilt runs?
To make matters absolutely perfect, it's pouring down rain. Never in my life do I remember it raining on The 4th of July. Not once. Al is in OCD hell, cleaning, counting, it is wearing us both out. He's worried about what will happen to his garden. I should call The Slumlord and ask HIM what will happen to my sons garden.
The funny, well not funny, but tragic thing about all of this is Mr. Slumlord was taken from HIS mother by the state when he was five-years-old. He was in an orphanage until being placed in a foster home, where he was abused by a foster parent until he escaped to the streets and raised himself. Do you see how this goes, round and round. His mother was an alcoholic, not a monster. She had a disease. Whatever, f-him, the bitter wounded creep.

Neurotransmission...that's funny.