Shut Up, I Am Dreaming

It's 1:29 am and quite bright out. The sky is clear, the wind is blowing and the streets are completely empty. I'm tired and unreasonably upset that I don't smell like stripper. The apartment is empty and the only sound in the room is a constant hum leaking out slowly from the second computer sitting behind me.

It is also day 7 of my suffering with what I now lovingly refer to as "The Plague." It truly is getting to the point that I don't want to go on living like this and would sacrifice an 8 year old Mayan virgin if it meant I would get the use of my nose back. Am I exaggerating? Obviously. I still think that my point is an important one though, come over and make me soup. Word.