Monday, August 22, 2011


It feels like someone is slowly and ineffectually trying to drive a railroad spike into my brain. With a toy hammer.
I can't find my painkillers.

Oh, and I woke up with some weird stuff written on my arm in permanent marker and a post-it on my door.

Pictures later. Need to stop this headache.

It worries me that I'm more concerned with the headache than with the cryptic bullshit.


  1. For the record, no alcoholic beverages of any sort were involved.
    I don't drink.

  2. Drinking is a bad HABIT.

    Unless you speak exclusively in third person, in which case it can be somewhat endearing.

    Which painkillers do you favour? Aspirin, or Paracetamol?

  3. Not more cryptic bullshit.
    No rabbits here. Try Albuquerque. I hear they make a lot of wrong turns there.
    Are you talking about the Ventriloquist? I may have to agree, if that's the case.
    I'm more of an ibuprofen man myself.