do you really think so?

back and deeply hungover from a 28hour benadryl bender. it buzzes on the inside of my head, as well it should.
looking back into bryophytes and other interesting tullvee trivia.
damn, that's another one.
or not. we'll see. there has to be some kind of upper bound on this, right?
who the hell paints those pastel coloured mountain landscapes that mean so little and melt in the sunshine let in through ugly dust-covered plastic blinds?

where is my hank?
he would know how to hit the nonsensical thoughts right out of me.