So something weird just happened...

I finally got around to reading My Little Dashie (What? Don't look at me like that; sometimes shizz just falls through the cracks)... and I didn't cry nearly as much as I expected to. This is double weird due to the fact that - as people will tell you - I cry at the drop of a bucking hat.

Maybe hearing people talk about it so much built it up in my mind to be something that it wasn't?