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Thursday, April 2, 2009

As the sinus drains

I am left pondering the weirdness of the dreams/nightmares I have had in the last few days. In one, KACL ubernerd, Noel Shemsky bites it as a security guard who forgets that he is guarding the very person he is driving mad with incessant questions about the Star Trek set when BLAMO! masked gunment storm the highrise office building. In another dream there are moles in my alphabet soup... I hate the stuff. And last nights wake with terror was a delightful bit of spoofing in which several D&D good guys go up against some Star Trek bad guys with some horrific finger snapping, Westside Story choreography while David Hewlett/Rodney McKay emcees.
One could ask what I was smoking/eating/drinking/shooting/inhaling. One could ask what i hit my head on. One could also ask if there is a Psychiatrist in the house. But largely I think the question should be... how high can your fever go before your brain melts all of the files in your head so that they run together into a huge ass Dalian freakshow and still leave you with any senses?
Yes, that is the question. F 2bornot2b.

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