In Which Christina Tries to Find the Poetry in “Breaking One’s Ass at the Bowling Alley”

Spoilers: There is no poetry in breaking one's ass at the bowling alley. And even sadder, this was not even my most epic fail. So, picture it-- the Ft. Leavenworth Strike Zone, moments after leaving a child home with her father, in a fit of rage and tears and possibly blood because the toy she'd... Continue Reading →

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