Note to my mother before I finish this off.

Mother,
CURSE YOU AND YOUR STUPID CURSES!
“I hope you have a daughter like you someday.” Those words are ringing in my head right now. Why not just give me a poison apple?
You could have cursed me with, “Damn you Kristine! I hope someday you marry a filthy rich bastard that promptly dies after the marriage leaving you to roll in the money and sleep with good looking pool boys for the rest of your days!”

No, I get this.

and this is what I got after I pulled everything out from under stuff:

and you would think with me going in and taking pictures and freaking out all day…YOU WOULD CLEAN UNDER YOUR DAMN BED!