Oh, you want more...???

Dear fans (read: Mom, VSOP, and Sev. Angel you don't count because you're a slave driver and only read to make sure I wrote what you screamed in my ear during ethics class),

I am sorry to inform you that, because I am a completly insane and masochistic nutjob who voluntarily scheduled an absolutly unnecccisary interview for 9AM in Burbank on the first day of WWF Crampfest 2005, thereby forcing my sluggish and Orca-fied ass to wake up at the hairy asscrack of dawn (aka: 6AM) on a day I don't even have any classes,and should be in bed drinking hot chocolate,watching old movies and eating anything and everything I can find and/or buy, I shall not be penning anything today which would relegate a "Genius. Fucking Genius." response from the guy with the "Brief History of Pharmacutecals" blog and the picture of the FUCKED UP cat. So sorry to disappoint. But you see, this pre-finals madness, mixed with the self imposed sleep depravation, and wonderful rollercoater of womanly emotions, has placed me in this otherworldly dimention, wherein I do nothing but stare at my wall, somehow rationalize away the necessity for painkillers for the apparent CIVIL WAR taking place somewhere deep inside my body, and semi-lucidly imagine myself becoming that much nobler by sitting here, sufering through said RAGING FIRE IN MY LOINS brought on by my monthly lack of babyfiedness, a la Mrs. Spearderline. I have no idea why I don't just get up and throw a handfull of the advils that are resting peacfully in plain view on my bathroom countertop--probably surrounded by some heavenly aura, complete with the faintest sound of a joyful chior coming from deep inside its ibiprofined goodness by now--down my throat to quash the RAGING INFERNO in my belly. But probably for the same reason that I've powered through law school for the past two years. And by powered I mean sleep. Power sleep. or slept. WHATEVER. Becaaaaaauuuuuse...I hate myself and feel good when I'm being punnished. plain and simple. Hence the self imposed 6AM wakeup call and the refusal to accept solid medical treatment for horridly horrified pain like the good Christian Scientology Cultist I am not. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO........my point to all of this? I hate you all. The end.