Monday, April 05, 2004

Don't Bother Me

Don't bother me, I'm wrinkle-smoothing, and besides there's not a thought left in my head. Got it? Fine, now go away and have a nice day somewhere else. This door is closed and sealed until I re-establish contact with my cortex. Like a pesticide-poisoned cockroach, I am currently misfiring on all cylinders, suffering severe synaptic dysfunction, and experiencing both memory loss and hair loss. I believe the line is blurring between wishful thinking and hopeful twaddle and I’ve got to get a grip on myself. I once had a grip on myself, but the Baptist Church told me it was bad for me and that I should stop. Come back when I have one head instead of two--or, when you think you might enjoy two heads, whichever comes first.


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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)