No, there’s no Dustin Hoffman here. Though there are a few gratuitous boob shots. Sorry about that. I still haven’t figured out how to wrangle these bad boys with the current situation.
Short and sweet. Like Paul. Or peeps. Or Peter Dinklage.
I’m averaging almost 2 hours of sleep a night this week. And no sleep makes my chemo brain act up. So since I keep switching words (like “ass” instead of “oatmeal” for example) I’m not even going to pretend to write anything.
Someone please drink heavily on my behalf. The end.