My world is a little bit off kilter this morning. I feel funny. Not funny in a laughing way, but funny like tall people in small cars, dog poop sprinkled with glitter, or a beautiful woman who smells like urine. Eyebrow-raising slightly disturbing quirky type of funny.

I want to write several stories I thought about this past weekend. One is about using the metal guardrail in the center of the highway to self-administer the Heimlich maneuver after getting a watermelon flavored candy stuck in my throat. Another is about a Mormon with a fondness for heavy metal and public masturbation. Another would be about getting depressed and eating hot sun-melted chocolate bars while taking a dump. Lots of good smellplay to work with in that one.

Maybe tomorrow. I really just want to take a nap right now. I spent my weekend abusing drugs I can't afford. I was wiggling my pinkie in my nose on Saturday night while in the throes of a heavy coke binge, and I sliced open my corroded nasal skin. I let the blood run for five minutes onto my hands and wrists before I cleaned myself off and stuffed my nostril with toilet paper. Fortunately the other side of my nose was still in operating condition. I couldn't feel the beer or the bourbon, but I'm pretty sure they put me to sleep around noon on Sunday.

So my blood is weak and diluted today, my synapses are charred, and I have no energy to accomplish something as simple as bending a paperclip out of shape. In addition to this weakened disposition, I have another problem. I thought freezerburned spicy bean burritos would make a good breakfast. Standing in the gas station this morning, I opened the glass freezer door to inhale some chilled vapory air when I spied the spice-o-meter on the plastic wrapper. The cartoon thermometer was bursting, and a spicy pepper was jumping from the exploding mercury atop the illustration. "WARNING! ULTRA-HOT!" it proclaimed. I should've known better.

So instead of writing a clever little story this morning, I'll just ask you to picture a stewpot filled with my cokey clumpy noseblood and the greasy spicy orange foam that's going to boil out of my ass later today.

Sorry. 9:36 AM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm