About a minute ago, I discovered that when someone whips a ball off a clown's head and screams "You forgot your balls, Paste-Face!" it actually goes, "BONK." Amazing really.

So here I sit, kicked to the curb by barrel-chested monkeys, head in hands, fingers over ears and I realize I'm listening to that same stinkin' song coming from the backyard of Babbet Mansion again. How many times can you play the same song in an hour? On my next day off somebody please remind me to pay that radio station a visit. It reminds me of Celine Dion and that Titanic song. You'd be hardpressed to name one person that doesn't fly into a killing frenzy every time they hear that gem of a pop music classic. That said, I think I should take a moment here to make up a list of the things I need to do. 1. Make a list. 2. Figure out how to get home. 3. Beat up disc jockey at WSUK radio. 4. Remember to never speak of myself in the third person. So here I sit, making lists, talking to myself, occasionally breaking the fourth wall and I'm wondering, "Hmm, how am I getting home?" I guess prior to insulting the Senator I was running under the assumption I'd have money for a cab and phone privileges to call said cab... Bzzz, thank you for playing. And that's not even the saddest part of the day. You know what the really sad part is? No, it's not my uncanny ability to jump off on tangents. The sad part is I really liked that kid Billy. Sure, the fact that his dad could consciously name him "Billy Babbet" is a disturbing testament to the instability of the genetics there, but he really seemed like a decent kid. Poor Billy, stuck back there with a father that named him "Billy Babbet" on purpose, a bunch of spoiled little brats that don't even have the decency to pretend to like him and the song from hell playing every fifteen minutes on the radio.

Do you ever have those days where you feel just a little bit off?

One of those days where you feel just a little bit left of normal?

One of those days where you wished you'd stayed in bad?

me too.

And as is typical of days like those, days like today... they don't get better.

They just get worse. That scream. It sounded like Billy.