The other night I came up with a stupid idea whilst in the midst of a drug-induced stupor. I’ll share it with you now.

SETTING: Post-Civil War United States. President Lincoln has just been assassinated. John Wilkes Booth struck, not just to deliver a death blow to President Lincoln, but also to collect a sample of his brain. For he was doing the bidding of a group of disenfranchised ex-slave-owners — who, after no longer being able to take advantage of the African slave labor they so required, set out to use genetic engineering to create a never-ending supply of workers to harvest their cottons and tobaccos. Workers created in the image of the very man who forced them to take such action. Clone Lincolns. Slave Clone Lincolns. Slave Clone Lincolns who eventually would number in the millions, who would then rise up and take back the country for the South — once and for all.

Here’s a doodle I just cranked out on my Nintendo DS:

Thoughts? Fewer drugs? MORE drugs?

Ordinarily I’m all for making nighttime blends of my favorite drugs (Tylenol PM is a vital component to my sanity), but even I think this is going too far:

Phil points out a problem with the plan to launch Star Trek star “Scotty’s” ashes into space — namely that he won’t get high enough to avoid earth’s gravity¹.

Cant get high enough, eh? I say let Keith Richards snort him with some blow. That ought to do it.

I spend a lot of time sitting on stools. Whether it be reading the ingredients on the Cheerios box in my breakfast nook, suckin’ down cold ones at the bar or kissin’ Flo’s grits at the diner, nearly every free minute I have is spent sitting on stools.

That said, lately I’ve been finding that my posterior is, more often than not, rather tender. I’m not sure whether it has something to do with the extra elevation afforded by my choice of seating or what, but it is clear these stools aren’t agreeing with me.

A few minutes ago I was at the pharmacy looking for something to relieve the tenderness in my buttocks when I spied the perfect thing: Maximum Strength Stool Softener. Here I was trying to find a remedy to treat the symptom of a problem, when those great public servants in the pharmaceutical industry have gone and solved the problem altogether.

I have no idea how taking a little pill could actually affect the physical attributes of furniture, but I’m pleased as punch that this is now an option. What a lifesaver. The recommended dose is 1 pill, but due to the severity of my problem, I just went ahead and took 5.

Thanks, pharmaceutical industry!

My whole life, I’ve always had difficulty sleeping. Nap time as a child was hell because I would never sleep, I’d just have to lay there for an hour, bored out of my mind. I’ve never in my entire life fallen asleep “as soon as my head hit the pillow,” and most nights I could easily have watched a feature-length movie in the time between turning off the light for the night and falling asleep. My roommate falls asleep “as soon as his ass touches something vaguely couchlike,” and his alarm clock frequently goes off for hours straight without him noticing it. This makes me extremely jealous and bitter.

In any case, lately I’ve been having less trouble sleeping, it’s just that it feels like I’m not getting any benefit from it. Sunday evening I actually went to bed at 8:45 due to being completely wiped out, despite not having done a darn thing all weekend. I don’t think it helped.

There’s things that I’ve told people I’d do, like computery things, not actual physically active things, that I’ve actually put off rather than spending the 5 minutes they would take because I was just too tired to devote the time to it. This is not good. I haven’t done a darn thing to further my efforts on any of my various creative projects in longer than I can remember. This is not good.

I just don’t know what to do. I’ve found that taking sleep aids can often help somewhat, but I develop a “dependency” extremely quickly, and it always takes me half the day before I really wake up after taking such things, which kind of defeats the purpose.

In my thinking about my situation, I’ve likened it to a person who has worms; no matter how much they eat, they just never seem to get any benefit from it. That’s exactly how I feel. Sleep worms.