Sometimes I feel like Ursula The Sea Witch...and I revel in it.
Sometimes when people are kind to me...I cry.
Sometimes I really really really really really hate being poor.
Then I get over it because I realize that I am rich in love, family, friendships, and faith-the things that really really really really really matter.
The moan I gave out when I bit into a cheddar pepper from the Crack House sounded orgasmic in nature.
It very nearly was.
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