‘Maybe I’ve got a brain tumor,’ I mumbled into the phone. I was talking to my ‘best friend,’ Fiona. She was half-goth butch lesbian when I m...t her in college, but since then she’d transformed a bit into a smoking hot blonde who thought having to choose between women and men was like being forced to choose between chocolate and peanut butter. And scotch.
 ‘You don’t have a brain tumor,’ she laughed. ‘You’re just heartbroken. It’s OK. But you need to get out of the house, Mark. It’s not good for. Jay called out as he turned to join the party, Give it a read, it might give you some closure. Plus it might give you perspective to stop being such a fucking bitch and accept that I own everything here and that is that! I grasp at the leather-protected notebook and flick through the pages. ——————————————————— ——————————————- It took me a few days to read the entire Journal but I think I will divulge and at least describe some of it in detail now. Apparently, despite my fathers success,. More

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