“My Trials and Tribulations with Dreaming”

Having a bad Reality, at times, is one thing.
Having bad Dreams all night about said bad Reality???
O M F G it S U C K S.
The one place I hope to escape to…
…continues to be one more place I can’t really get to.
I really was a much happier person when I could go to sleep and it was like stepping off into the blackness of space (((because I’d be in such a deep deep sleep))).
Now, it’s like falling off of a cliff into a world of twisted and fucked half-memories.

—

I try to change my current Reality, in the hopes of bettering my future Reality.
But, when it comes to past Reality, I’m helpless.
We all are, I know that.
So…
…I guess I really need to learn how to change my Dreams.
Riiiiiiiiiiight?

Mkay.

Sooo…

…HOW DOES ONE DO THAT???

—

At moments like this, I truly envy people like My Father.

He always told me he rarely, if ever, remembers his Dreams.

I remember the bulk of mine.

And mine are rarely, if ever, pleasant.

Even those with pleasant moments are often still bad Bad BAD Dreams.

It really is ALMOST enough to push a person tooooooooooooooooo far, sometimes.

—

Sleep is supposed to be restful, riiiiight?

You’re not supposed to feel worse when you awaken of a morning, correct??

And, YES, I’ve had sleep-studies done.

Nothing wrong with my breathing, nor anything else they could honestly measure.

I’ve talked to ((literally)) dozens of shrinks in my lifetime.

I’ve taken every medication they can think of to sling in my direction.

And, yet, here I sit.

Typing this.

Telling you, My Peeps, instead of yet another doctor that doesn’t seem to understand a goddamn thing about Me, nor My Situation.

—

I don’t want a lot of My Memories.

I don’t want a lot of My Reality.

But, MOST OF ALL, I don’t want to keep having these Dreams.

I accept My Memories.

I accept some of My Reality.

But, I do NOT accept that My “Dreamland” must be tainted.

I can’t accept that.

I won’t accept that.

Period.

I Remain Conscious, Even While Dreaming In My Sleep.

—At Least, I’m Pretty Sure I Do.  It Feels Like I Do.  When I Wake-Up Wake-Up, I’m Exhausted. Regardless Of How Long I’ve Laid There, I’m Exhausted.

It Doesn’t Make Sense.

I Remember My Dreams… …All Of My Dreams.

My Dreams Are (put mildly) Simply Fu*ked-Up.

Period.

They’re Wild.

They’re Vivid.

They’re Crazy.

They’re Awesome.

They’re Dangerous.

They’re Beautiful.

They’re Horrid.

They’re Amazing.

They’re Disturbing.

All At The Same Time.

If Our Dreams Are A Reflection Of Ourselves, Our True Selves, Then I Sincerely Haven’t A Clue As To What To Say Next.

Perhaps I Sincerely Shouldn’t Have A Clue As To What To Say Next.

I Already Feel Like An “Odd Duck” In Many MANY Ways, So I Just Hope That, In This Instance, I’m No More Odd Than The Rest Of You.

Dreams Are A Very Funny Thing, My Peeps.

Sometimes, I Wish They’d Come True.

Sometimes, I Pray They Don’t Come True.

Sometimes, I Know They’re Going To Come True Whether I Want Them To Or Not.

Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes.

Sheesh.

Let The Day Begin, Already.

Time, Brother, You’re Holding Me Up.

I’ve A Place To Go…

…A Person To See…

…A Life To Live.

Right, Kids?!

RIGHT!!!—

Pissed-ON!?! Pissed-OFF?!? In This Instance, It Felt Like BOTH!!!

Ever Has One Of Those Moments When You Awaken In The Morning (the wee wee hours of said morning), And Something Doesn’t Feel Quite Right??

You Feel Around Lightly, And Are Quickly Able To Notice You’re Soaked.

You’re Laying In Your Own Bed, And The Physical Sensations Are Telling You One Thing…

“O.M.F.G.! I CANNOT BELIEVE I’D DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT!”

At That Moment, A Touch Of A Giggle Is Met With The Horrifying Power Of Anger.

“Yes, I’m Now Completely DRENCHED And Exceptionally PISSED-OFF!!”

So, I Slowly Try To Roll Out Of What I’m Sure Is A Large Puddle In The Center Of My Bed.

Suddenly, As I Slowly turn…

…I Here A *crumple* *crumple* *crunch* Noises.

So I Quickly Make The Decision And Say, “TO HELL WITH THIS!” As I Jumped Up From My Now Soiled Mattress.

I Check My Clothes First For Conformation.

Sure Enough, My Crotch, My Ass, My Hips, My Sleep-Pants, My Sleep Shirt, All Of Me Is Practically Sopping-Wet.

Then, Upon Further Investigation…

…I Found The Culprit Behind It All.

It Was A WATER BOTTLE.

Apparently, Bradley Got Thirsty In His Sleep.

He Reached His Water Bottle, Opened It, Possibly Took A Drink, And Then Proceeded To Roll Back Over Into Sleep.

So, My Peeps, I Was Very VERY Pissed At The Notion That I’d Pissed-Myself…

…And Simply Felt Like An Embarrassed-Fool Upon Realizing I Hadn’t Been PISSED ON.

Period.

That Was At 4AM’ish’ish.

It’s Now 5AM’is’ish.

So, Good Morning To You, My Peeps.

May Your Day Be Filed With Enjoyable Moments.

I Won’t. I’m Seeing The Dentist, Today.

I Never Leave There With A Smile, That’s Fo SHO.

Dammit. 😦

Anyway, You Kids…

…Have A Damned Decent Day Out There. 😀

When Remembering Turns To Dwelling Turns To Suffering…

…You Know You‘re Fu*ked.

—At This Moment, I‘m Writing Just To Watch Myself Write.

I‘ve Slept Less Than 35–Hours In The Past 10–Nights COMBINED.

I‘m Irritable.

I‘m Sullen And Moody.

I‘ve Lost 15–LBS In That 10–Day Span.

I Don‘t Understand Why I Let Myself Get This Depressed.

I Know I Do It To Myself.

It‘s My Own Fault.

But, I‘M Not My Own Fault.

I Know That.

I Never Have Been.

I Was Created And Shaped By Events In My Life That Have Seriously Fu*ked-Me–Up.

Why Can‘t I Shake This?

Why Does The Past Still Cling To Me Like The Stench Of Death?

It Haunts My Day–To–Day Existence.

I Know Why.

BECAUSE I LET IT.

Period.

MY BAD.

It‘s These Memories.

I Can‘t Handle Them As Well As I‘d Like To.

As Well As I SHOULD.

It‘s Honestly Maddening.

It‘s Hard.

It‘s So Very VERY Hard.

I Go From Day To Day Seeing No Benefit From It All.

I‘ve…

…Sheesh…

…I‘ve Become My Own Worst Enemy.

Just As I Was Always TOLD I Would Be.

Just As I Always KNEW I Would Be.

It Happens To Us All At Some Point, Sure.

It’s Life.

It‘s LIVING Life.

My Moments Of Weakness And Horror Come To Me Like Flashes.

As Images.

Images A Person Should Never See.

No One.

The Thoughts Linger.

The Ill–Feelings They Cause Linger Longer.

Am I Having An Identity Crisis?

Whatever It Is, It‘s Hanging On Way Way WAY Tooo Long.

Talking To People Is Becoming More And MORE Difficult.

There Are A Couple Key People I‘d Love To Talk To.

They Just Don‘t Want To Talk To Me.

Sometimes, I Break Down And Simply MUST Talk To Someone.

Those Are The Moments When I‘m Feeling My Worst.

When I Know Something‘s Wrong Inside, And I Need To Make An Outside Connection Before I Snap.

I Feel The Worst, Though, When I Do Have To Ask For Help.

But, At The Point I Start Talking, I‘m Already Scraping The Bottom Of The Barrel For The Oxygen I Need To Survive.

I Am.

It Gets Hard To Breathe.

I Start Feeling Sorry For Myself.

I Lose Personal Control.

I Become Someone Else.

Someone I Truly Am NOT.

A Whining…

…Crying…

…Sniveling…

…Used–To–Be.

I Know I’m Only 30‘ish‘ish.

Some Attempt To Push Upon Me That I‘m Still Far Too Young To Deal With Shit As I Do.

But, Everyone‘s Different…

…Correct???

Everyone‘s Got Their Own Stopping And Starting Point.

Their Own Breaking Point.

I Guess Mine Was Just A Bit Earlier In Life Than Some Others.

I Know I Don‘t Have It That Bad.

It‘s Not Like Someone Close To Me Has Died, Or Is Dying.

It‘s Simply The Past.

A Past I‘ve Yet To Beat.

A Past I‘ve Yet To Escape From.

A Past I‘ve Yet To Come To Terms With.

A Past I‘ve Yet To Let Go Of And Move On From.

And It‘s Destroying My Present.

I Guess Some Of This Is Normal, Right?

Thinking Of It All Has Just Brought Me Down So Much.

I Just Feel Very Alone, At Times.

But, I Do Understand That Life Could Be Much Worse.

Sadly…

…My Once Remarked–Upon Eyes Are Heavy, Dark, And Tired.

My Hopeful Outlook Has Turned Bleak.

Yet, Despite It All, I Survive.

MAYBE It All Has Made Me Stronger In Some Ways?

But, At What Personal Cost?

With Age And Experience Has Also Come Fear…

…Hate…

…Despair.

Where I Once Felt Love, I Now Feel Bitterness.

Where I Once Felt Alive, I Now Feel Drained.

Where I Once Cared About Life, I Now Resent It.

So Sad, Yet, So True.

It Just Pisses Me Off To No Extent.

When Wonderful Memories Become Jaded With Time.

I Swear, It Literally Makes Me Sick.

What I Wouldn‘t Give For A Moment‘s Peace.

A Clear Mind.

A Quiet Mind.

I Know I Have Some Amazing Moments Stored In My Brain–Case.

I‘ve Just Become To Bitter To See Them.

*** ***

PLEASE, My Peeps…

…Don‘t Be Alarmed By Anything I‘ve Said.

It‘s Just A Downer Moment For Me, And I‘m Allowing You To Experience It With Me.

I Guess I Just Wanted To Vent A Bit, As I Often Do When I Get Like This.

As I‘ve Said To Y‘all Before…

…Sometimes, It‘s Not Just The BEST Therapy…

…It‘s The ONLY Therapy.

Right???

RIGHT!!!—

I Ran Across This Quotation Last Night…

…And It Felt Very VERY Relevant To What I’ve Been Doing Of Late.

“The Man Who Writes About Himself AND His Own Time Is The Only Man Who Writes About All People AND About All Time.”

—GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

I May Not See It Exactly As SHAW Had, But I Get The Gist Of What He Was Saying.

I Write About Myself, Mainly, Because I’m What I Know.

A Person MUST Write What They Know, And I’m The One Subject I Know The Best.

Sometimes, I Wish I Didn’t Know Myself So Well.

Sometimes, I Wish I Could Just Turn It All Off.

As Kids, My Brother Had A Standing Order For Xmas Or Birthday Gifts.

He Wanted A “Remote Controlled Bradley” So He Could “Turn Him Off“!!!

😦

I’m Not Even Joking There, My Peeps.

That’s Exactly What He Wanted.

People Have Wanted To Turn Me Off The Bulk Of My Life.

It Comes With The Territory.

It Goes Hand–N–Hand With Mental Illness.

No One Knows How To Fix You…

…Yet Everyone Wants To.

Even Little Brothers.

So, What Can I Say Toward That?

Honestly, Not Much.

I Do Wish I Had An Off-Switch.

It Would Have Come In Handy Many, Many Times.

But, Alas, I Do Not.

So, Now What?!

Help Me Here, My Peeps.

What’s Up?

What’s The Story?

What’s The Scoop??

What Can I Do???

It’s Just A Bit After 5AM…

…Yet, Here I Sit…

…Talking To Y’all…

…Wishing I Had More To Honestly Say.

Everything I Want To Say, I Can’t.

Everything I Want To Do, I Can’t.

So, Where Does That Leave Us?

If You Said “Right Back Where We Started“ You’d Be Very Much Correct.

I’m Tired.

I Feel Used-Up.

I Feel Worn-Out.

Maybe I Should Try Going Back To Bed?

Well, I Would If I Knew It Would Be A Positive.

But, It Wouldn’t Be.

It’d Just Be More Of The Same.

Tossing.

Turning.

Blankly–Staring.

I Just Don’t Know, My Peeps.

I Sincerely Don’t Know.

I Do Know I Don’t Write For All People…

…Nor For All Time.

I’m Just Here.

I’m Just Me.

I’m Just Writing What Feels Right.

Even Though, Sometimes, It’s Very VERY Wrong.

I Hate My Brain.

I Hate My Heart.

I Hate Everything About Myself.

Why?

Because, I Don’t Function Properly.

I Can Be The Nicest, Most Charming Person Around.

And, Then, In The Same Breath, I Can Be Malicious.

I Can Be Cruel.

I Can Be Evil.

Life’s Funny That Way, I Suppose.

Is It Funny I Find That Funny?

Is It Wrong?

Is It In Bad-Taste?

I Just Don’t Know.

I Do Know It’s Time To End This Ramble.

I’m Just Not Feeling It.

I Started–Out Shaky On The Subject…

…And I Remain So.

So, I’ll Just Shut-Up.

Perhaps Later I’ll Be More Able To Convey My Thoughts And Feelings.

Right Now…

…Both MY MIND And MY HEART Are In A Very Dark Place.

Trying To Work When I’m Like This Is Generally A Bad Thing.

Nothing Good Has Ever Come Of It…

…And I Don’t See Any Good Coming Anytime Soon.

Perhaps Later?

Perhaps.

We Haven’t Talked Much Of Late. That’s Probably My Fault. Oops.

MY BAD, My Peeps.

MY BAD.

Just So I Get This Out Of The Way With Y’all…

…I Feel Horrid.

I Slept About 6-Hours This Afternoon/Evening.

I Didn’t Mean To.

I Kicked Back In The Comfy Chair…

…Closed My Eyes…

…And The Next Thing I Know I’m Waking Up Late Late Late.

Talk About A Real Pisser.

One Would Think Getting Plenty Of Sleep Would Make Me Feel Better.

Nope.

Not. At. All.

If Anything…

…I Feel Worse.

Such Is Life, I Suppose.

Think/Feel You’re Doing The Best Thing For Yourself…

…And Come To Find-Out, It Wasn’t.

Sounds Like The Story Of My Life.

Sounds Like The Story Of Many MANY Lives.

I Wish I Could Get Back To Sleep…

…But I Know That’s An Impossibility.

I Also Know I Won’t Sleep For Shit Tonight, Nor Will I Be Able To Sleep-In.

It’ll Be Another LATE NIGHT And EARLY MORNING.

😦

Par For The Course, I Suppose.

Sooooo…

…I’ll Likely Be Watching Documentaries All Night Long.

I Do So Love Them.

Calming.

Soothing.

Educational.

Time-Consuming.

All The Things I Count On When Watching A Quality Doc.

I Just Wish I Weren’t So Lethargic, Tonight.

I’m Draggin’ Ass, If You Must Know.

And Yet, I’m In No Way Tired Enough To Sleep.

Typical, Eh?

Typical, Indeed.

So, What Is One To Do?

Is This A “Suck It Up And Deal With It“ Moment???

That’s How It Feels.

Right OR Wrong…

…That’s How It Feels.

I Think It’s Time To Attempt Something.

Rest?

Relaxation?

Doesn’t Matter.

Just So Long As I Get Some Sleep.

Or…

…Well…

…MORE Sleep.

Perhaps This Sleep Will Honestly Be Restful.

The Sleep I Got Earlier Just Made Me More More MORE Sleepy.

Such Is Life, I Say.

Such Is Life.

I Had So Much More Planned For This Post, Yet My Eyes Are Tired, Heavy, Stinging.

One Day, I’ll Get My Sleep/Wake Cycle Worked-Out.

One Day.

Well, Again, Here I Am. But Do I Bring Anything New To The Table???

The Likely Answer Is NO.

Nothing New Has Happened.

Nothing New Ever Happens That’s Honestly Worth Mentioning.

Just Wide Awake At This Ungodly Hour.

One Would Think I’d Be Used To It By Now.

Sadly…

(...Or Not So Sadly...)

…I’m Not Used To It.

Never Have Been.

Never Will Be.

I Just Wanted To Apologize, My Peeps.

Apologize For My Recent Behavior.

I May Be A Dweller, Yes…

…But That Doesn’t Mean I Have To Take It Out Here.

Out In The Open, As I Have.

A Love Life…

(...Or Lack Of One...)

…Should Always Be Handled In A Much More Private Manner.

I Haven’t Done As Such.

I’ve Made My Issues Public.

But I’m A Writer.

Writers Write.

I So Express Myself Better In This Way.

Always Have.

When It Comes To Talking, I Generally Stay Quiet.

Generally.

I Fumble My Words, Otherwise.

At Least This Way I Have More Control.

Or, At Least, I Feel I Do.

… …

I’ve Talked Recently Of Wanting.

Of Needing.

Things I Must Have.

Things I Wish I Had.

Things I Know I’ll Never Ever Never Ever Ever Possess.

And What Good Has Come From Any Of It?

Not A Goddamn Bit, That’s What.

I Just Feel Like Me.

Feeling More Isolated.

Feeling More Alone.

Feeling More Hopeless.

Feeling More Helpless.

I Just Don’t Know, My Peeps.

I Don’t Know What To Do.

I Don’t Know What To Say.

I Don’t Know What To Write.

It’s Not Like There’s A Lack Of Material.

Oh, Heavens No.

I Could Write And Write, Seemingly Forever, If I So Chose.

But I Don’t.

And So…

…I Don’t.

I Suppose I’m Just Hopping With Anticipation.

I Want To Know What’s Wrong With Me.

I Want To Really REALLY Know.

The Coming MRI Seems To Be My Best Bet For Finding Any Answers.

The Problem I’m Having Is…

“What Do I Do If They Don’t Find What They’re Looking For?“

Do I Just Carry On…

…Happy The Test Says I’m Healthy?

To ME…

…That Would Seem Like A Failure.

Like A Waste Of Time, Effort, Money, Resources, Etc Etc.

I’m Not Saying I Want Them To Find Something.

I’m Saying I Hope It Tells Them What They Want To Know.

Because If It Doesn’t, I’m Totally Up-Shit-Creek.

I’m Tired.

I’m So Very Tired.

I Wish I Could Sleep.

Anticipation Is Amazingly Wonderful, Sometimes.

Other Times, It’s Just A Big Ole Bitch.

And I Still Have Two More Days To Wait.

Two More Days Of Anticipation.

Two More Days Of Deeply Seeded Want.

I Must Have This Test.

I Sincerely NEED This Test.

I Suppose I’m Just Scared.

That’s The Best Answer I Can Come Up With, At The Moment.

There’s Nothing Wrong With Being Scared…

…It Just Shouldn’t Be Allowed To Interfere With Day-T0-Day Existence.

It’s Too Powerful.

Fear.

But, What Am I Afraid Of?

I Wish I Knew.

Any Thoughts, My Peeps?

Perhaps I’m Just Scared They Really Wont Find What They’re Looking For?

?       ?       ?

I Suppose I’m Just Getting Tired Of Tests.

I’ve Had Plenty.

Undoubtedly…

…I’ll Have Plenty More With Time.

So…

…Here I Am.

Well…

…Here I Am AGAIN.

Do I Bring Anything New To The Table?

No.

Do I Further The Discussion?

No.

So What Do I Do?

I Sit Here.

I Write.

While Others Are Sleeping…

…Here I Am.

While Others Are Working…

…Here I Am.

While Others Are Out Having Fun…

…Here I Am.

And What Good Has Come From It?

Not A Goddamn Bit, That’s What.

This Is More Therapy Than Anything Else.

Writing Quiets My Mind.

It Allows Me To Center My Thoughts.

Even Though They May Come-Out As A Jumbled Mess…

…That’s Sincerely Not The Intention.

Surely Not.

Maybe I Just Need Sleep.

Trust Me, My Peeps…

…I Would If I Could.

I Surely Would.

But I Can’t.

So I’m Not.

Period.

Holy Hell I’m Tired… …But I Want To Write.

The Days Continue To Seem Longer And Longer.

I Can’t Sleep.

I Can’t Properly Express Myself.

In Day To Day Life, My People Skills Are Failing…

…Though I Never Really Had Any To Begin With.

I Can Talk Myself A Blue Streak, But I Just Don’t Seem To Make Sense.

Nor Do I Honestly Ever, The Bulk Of The Time.

I Continue To Flounder In An Endless Circle.

I Simply Don’t Understand Myself A Lot Of The Time.

Why Must I Just Tinker And Putter With Things I Find Important?

I Want To Write.

Write Like I Used To.

Like I Liked To.

Reckless-Abandoned In Full-Force-Mode.

The Rest Be Damned, Ya Know?!

I’m Just Thinking Toooo Much.

Therefore, I Feel Like I Accomplish Very Little.

It Just Doesn’t Look Right.

It Just Doesn’t Feel Right.

When I Read Things Aloud, They Just Don’t Say What I’m Wanting It To Really Say.

Like Really REALLY Say.

SO…

…I’m Going To Re-Start Something That I Used To Do Constantly.

I’m Going To Start Keeping A Journal Again.

I Feel I Must.

When You Can’t Stop Thinking, You Eventually Realize That’s No Way To Think At All, Fo SHO.

Everything Gets Muddled.

You Have To Just Put It ALL Down.

Pen To Paper.

If I Don’t…

…Well…

…Hmm…

…I Don’t Know.

So, What Do I Know?

I Do Know I’ll Never Say Everything Exactly Right.

I Do Know Most Things Lose Something With Repeats.

I Do Know “STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE“ Is Honestly The Superior “TREK“ Series, Though “STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION“ Will Always Be My Favorite.

I Do Know At One Point I Wanted To Have BURT REYNOLDS‘ Baby.

I Do Know I’m A Total Hack At Most Things In Life.

What Else Do I Know?!

In The Words Of Mr. GROUCHO MARX…

“…And East Is East, And West Is West, And If You Take Cranberries And Stew Them Like Applesauce It Tastes Much More Like Prunes Than Rhubarb Does…”

Everybody Got That?!?

GOOD!!!

‘Cause I Sure As Shit Don’t!!!

I Just Want To Write.

And Now…

…As I Sit Here, Writing In The Dark…

…I’ve Just Written Myself Into Another Circle.

DAMMIT.

😐

Why Can’t I Stop Listening To -“I AM…I SAID” by NEIL DIAMOND (1971)- ???

/\

/  \

***

“…But I’ve Got An Emptiness Deep Inside…

…And I’ve Tried…

…But It Won’t Let Me Go…

…And I’m Not A Man Who Likes To Swear…

…But I Never Cared For The Sound Of Being Alone…”

… …

Neil Diamond

… …

“…I Am, I Said…

…To No One There…

…And No One Heard At All…

…Not Even The Chair…

…I Am, I Cried…

…I Am, Said I…

…And I Am Lost…

…And I Can’t Even Say Why. …”

-<{*******}>-

-<{****}>-

-<{*}>-

\/

Yeah.

It’s Turned Into One Of THOSE Nights.

Restless.

Sleepless.

Depressingly Depressing.

I Mean, Come On…

…When Do YOU Break-Out The Ole…

NEIL DIAMOND

?!?!?

This Is The Only Song Of His On My Player…

…And I Never Listen To It…

…Unless I’m Having A Little Personal Pity Party For Me, Personally.

I Love This Song.

“I AM…I SAID“

…Has Always Been My Favorite Track Of His.

Period.

The Lyrics Always Spoke To Me A Tad.

Guess I’ve Been Kinda Depressing.

But When I Get The Blues…

…I Tend To Listen To Sad Songs.

What?!

You Do It, Also!!!

You KNOW You Do!!!

Don’t You Dare Try And Lie To Me!!!

Sheesh.

Some Peeps, Eh?!

(*shakes head in a disappointing manner*)

Now I Suppose I’m Gonna Be Taking Shit From You Just Because I Broke-Down And Broke-Out Ole NEAL, Eh?!

Typical.

He Has That Effect On Some Peeps, My Peeps.

I Suppose I Can’t Hold It Against You.

I Could TRY To Do So…

…But Doubt I’d Get Very Far With it.

So I’ll Just Shut-Up.

It’s Not Something I Do Easily.

Well…

…Unless I’m Around People I Don’t Know, Nor Want To Speak With.

In Moments Of That Type…

…I’m Like A Younger, Taller,  Better-Looking Version Of…

CALVIN COOLIDGE

🙂

If You Get That Quip…

…I’m Proud Of You For Paying Attention In Class.

😀

If You Didn’t Get It…

…Hmm…

…You Probably Just Didn’t Give A Shit In The First Place.

😉

See!

Come In Here To Vent With Y’all A Touch…

…And BLAMMO…

…I Crack A Smile In The Really Real World!

This Is The Really Real World, Isn’t It?!

This Isn’t Russia, Is It?

Is This Russia?!

This Isn’t Russia.

Glad We Got That Straight.

Was Worried For A Minute…

…Or Two…

…Or The Last Two-Hours.

Or Whatever.

😉

Maybe I Should Try Laying Down Again?

Ya Think?!

Alright, Kids.

I’m Takin’ Your Advice.

Just Don’t Wake Me Until The Sun’s Up.

Fat Chance, But I Can Hope…

…Right?!?

RIGHT!!!

😉     😀     🙂