I'm channeling my Skyrim husband, Stenvar, today who is quite fond of saying, "Good! Let's go find something to FIGHT!" So swoony in a medieval mentality kind of way!
Today, I'm feeling quite like Stenvar because there is a flurry of crap going on that I am just itching to take a sword to. Or, maybe not the sword, maybe the mace of Molag Bal that collects souls when the victims die. I love that mace...
...and I'm sick of this particular shitstorm and feeling nearly helpless to do anything about it.
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