Your cocktail sir,

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2003-01-23 - 9:41 p.m.

I have barely recovered the will to live. For the past three days I have been a snot creation machine. Pretty much the only thing keeping me alive is that Confessions of a Dangerous Mind opens tomorrow.

So, yes. My life has revolved around Kleenex and proximity to disposal. I have enough antihistamines in me to qualify on the Histamine Most Wanted listed. I keep losing track of the time. Tomorrow, according to Outlook, is Friday. I have no idea where this week went. If you asked me, I would think, Tuesday. Honest. Itís Tuesday in my mind. Or something.

That had way more pith in my mind.

I hate fluids. I would like someone to invent a solid form of it. Yes, I am aware of the Alanis Irony involved with that last statement. But I have worked my way through every juice known to man. Well, known to Oddwalla. I donít think MoíBetta is actually a juice. Itís closer to that solid I was asking for. Also, Iíve had enough cran-blank that my prostate should NEVER worry. Of course, with all that fluid in my Iím bloated and resemble a hutt. With the slime. Without the princess or that strange little monster. I thought, at one point I did have the monster but it just turned out to be something caused by the nighttime medication. Gentle ingredient to help me sleep my ass. I was in a near coma where strange creatures showed up to give eulogies for friends mothers.

If only it werenít true.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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