And that’s a good thing.  That’s what I signed up for.  Well, maybe not the crying part.

Very bad cuss word.  Another very bad cuss word.  We talked on the phone about The Speech last night which was good.  And he pushed me harder.  Also good.  He challenged me to dig even deeper.  Scary.  Yucky.  I’m glad.  I wanted to go there.  We got out the backhoe.  Cuss word.  Cuss word.  No sense in doin’ this thing half-assed right?  No regrets.  Cuss.

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Digging into stuff that hurts my heart and looking at it over and over and over and trying to be as honest as possible while making sure it makes sense and offers my audience something of true worth is my idea of time well spent.  I know, pretty messed up eh?   Thank God he at least makes me laugh in between his twisted disguised psychotherapy phone sessions.

Hopkins, you are the fucking bomb.  Word.

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