At this point a lobotomy might be the best course of action. I am pretty sure if memory serves me right that in the movie Hannibal, Dr. Lecter removes the frontal lobe of one of his victim and feeds it to him. This with no real consequence to said victims ability to speak, move about, and still function on a level that would make Larry the Cable Guy jealous. Really how is Mr. Victims existence much different than most of the slugs you interact with day to day. If you ask me its not. Most people go about their business very routinely, very regimented, with little or no deviation to what they know. I envy that.

I am considering this whole frontal lobe removal thing because it would seem to be the answer to a lot of my problems. One of which being these bloody head aches that I seem to constantly have through out the day. Most noticeably these occur during increased moments of thought. And not even deep thought, but all types of thought. From the mundane to the existential. For example most recently and the reason I am up at 3A.M. writing this is because of my random thoughts on God. He is a funny one that God of ours. (this applies to whatever your religious preference may be) The old adage that people like to throw around is the one about God working in mysterious ways. Now if this is true and I suppose it must hold some water for adages like stereo types come from a collective idea or generalization about something, then God is telling me something every night. Every morning I wake up and my fucking comforter is upside down. Well how do you know it is upside down? you might ask. (and I know your asking that right now) You see I have one those duvet covers on my down comforter. Which at the bottom end has an opening and buttons to where you insert the down comforter. Now I very much like this comforter. So much so that I sleep with no other sheets or blankets for the sheer reason that I do not want my cozy, loving, warm comforter to get jealous. I am actually so partial to my comforter that were I Egyptian and of some sort of social status that when I were to die they would to embalm me and put my in one of those great little gold body boxes, (or sarcophagus for you technical people out there) I would insist that I be wrapped in my comforter instead of those silly looking Scooby bandages.

Any way I am getting of track here. Back to God. I think he’s trying to tell me something, and most defiantly in a mysterious way. Via my down comforter. How could it possibly end up upside down every single fucking day. It can’t, its impossible. That is unless it’s the work of God. I believe he is trying to tell me to make some changes in my life. That the life I lead now and all of the things I do are wrong in some way or rather upside down if you will. You like that do you not. The whole upside down world, upside down comforter link. Oh you don’t like that well piss off then, I do. So I have surmised that if I abandon everything that I know and start anew that I will be one day able to wake up with my comforter in the proper position and thus heeded Gods call. Pretty righteous yeah. I mean listening to God is a good thing and can only bring happiness and prosperity into my life, right? I mean what I’m doing now doesn’t seem to be working out to well, at least not in my comforter position department. So It is either move and change my ways or lobotomy. For some reason this doesn’t seem to be tying in very well. But it is 3 in the morning and my head hurts so what do you really expect. Hopefully I’ll get this edited before anyone reads it. Until tomorrow morning your ass backwards blanket.

-Adios Mr. Lecter