In a Funk

Sometimes I wish that I was crazy or on drugs.....crazies and druggies have the best blogs. You start reading a post and then suddenly you're watching a train plowing down the tracks headed straight for a kid and you just can't look away. Magically...through the power of crank/crack/hash/shrooms or a crazy who needs to be on one of those....the train turns into a bunny hopping through the forest picking up the field mice and.... grinding them into the dirt with the heel of their steel-toed boots. It's one helluva wild ride that never slows down enough for you to leap off without decapitation. Since I'm not certifiably crazy....or a druggie, when I finally escape with my head still attached, I'm left with an overwhelming case of what-the-fucks. What-the-fucks are similar to those times when you get so drunk the world is spinning and you're sure you're going to be flung off and will forever be orbiting the planet with your fingers tightly clenching your toilet's seat. There's just no rhyme or reason....logic is a foreigner in those parts. Maybe I just need to get drunk before posting....no, that won't work....alcohol puts me to sleep. I'll think up something........