More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
As I hoped it would, that earns me a spanking. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and decide to book an appointment with a reputable therapist first thing tomorrow morning.
On day seven, I decide that I’ll use the millions my deceitful spouse gave me to open a shelter for stray cats. I’ll live in the back, avoiding humanity, until I grow old and die, whereupon the cats will eat my shriveled corpse, allowing me to exist inside my furry friends for eternity. On day eight, realizing my state of mind has dangerously deteriorated if I’m dreaming of being ingested by cats, I call around to local therapists.
He’s Irish? God, that’s hot. Stop gawking at him, he’s probably here to murder you.
