Thursday, June 22:

Dear God, my head hurts. Where did he get that shameful excuse of tequila? At least it's some consolation, Stoat ought to be feeling much worse than I am right now.

Very small consolation.

Well, at the very least, last night should have served as an excellent lesson for the girls. It's doubtful that Stoat was aware of it, but the girls were all instructed to watch what happened last night as a lesson in how to take control. I can be quite good at it when I want to, but I'll have to let him do as he wants next time, so the poor man's fragile ego won't be too bruised.

Heh. Unlike certain other parts of him.