All in all sounds like so pretty damn good news. I mean, I know that it would be much better if you knew one way or the other, but at least you didn’t get a definant stick it in your ass.
Inor, you are still in hot water about that lady comment! 
I like hot water…
But, just to make you happy:
Ok, then, you witch.
I bet you poop in bed.
And don’t put the toilet seat down.
And can’t make good fried potatoes to save your ass.
And tuck your flannel shirts in.
I’ll bet you don’t pull your hair blobs out of the shower drain, drink from the carton, especially if you’ve just eaten oreos, give people the wrong directions, taught your kids to count out of order, and that you had to get your hubbie to type your cuss words.
I bet you’re such a doorknob that when you’re feeling vindictive, the best you can do is pick your nose and wipe it on the neighbor’s cat.
(heeheehee)
Inor?
Have you been watching me? Talking to my husband or something?
What got me was that Scott insists that I can’t fry potatoes, so he is now in charge of them!
He is constantly yelling about long hair in the drain, and I am terrible with directions.
Witch, I’ll take it, drinking from the milk carton a big no-no, and you know it. Especially after Oreos.
I am begining to think you were right about the lady thing.
(just don’t let it get out to much, kk?)
**{{{{{{{{Kricket}}}}}}}}
{{{{{{{{inor}}}}}}}}}
(((((((stuffinb}}}}}}**
((((((((SiCi;)))))))
Kricket- I am right about the lady thing- I am crazy and have the papers to prove it, I’m socially and emotionally retarded
but I’m neither tasteless nor stupid…