bring the noyz

is how long it is until The Boy officially one hundred percent becomes Our Boy. . . My Boy. That's what the State Child Protection Agency caseworker told The Wife and I this afternoon. Now, the Official with a capital fucking "o" plan is to finalize the adoption of The Boy in November.

Awesome, fucking awesome. And more than just a tad bit scary, but that's a story for another hour.

A dark cloud still exists that permeates the blue sky of the revelation. The joy is muted and tempered by the anger.

The Good Doctor Noyz has a confession to make, one of which he is far from proud. . .

My first thoughts upon hearing news (if not "the news") I have been waiting for months to hear; these thoughts, were not about The Boy.

They were of Ms. von Munchausen. Yes my dear reader, while the news brought a smile to my face; I must confess it was, initially at least, for the wrong reason. My smile was not inspired for The Love of The Boy, but by my anger at Ms. von Munchausen.

"My only love sprung from my only hate" - Juliet, we all know the author

Rather applicable, if not quite in context or quoted quite accurately.

Nonetheless, this fact exploits my sense of circular logic as it increases my anger and fuels my hatred. This frightens me, but I have learned to live with it.

In my world, Ms. von Munchausen's days are now truly numbered.

In my world, if 'The Boy' officially becomes 'My Boy' in eighty three days, in eighty four days I will finally have the legal authority to start a scream for vengeance that will make Judas Priest proud.

heh heh heh. . .
|