Hm. Maybe I shouldn't do this when I'm stoned. Can't sleep, so here I sit, dwelling on things I can't change. I have GOT to cut that seductive bitch, Caffiene, loose. She's a siren, with her perky percolator nipples and heady aroma. My pulse quickens under her influence. My heart pounds. I can't resist her. And now, in the dead of night, I pay the price for my illicit day-long dalliance. And where is she, in my time of jitter? Off seducing some other poor sap, sitting in the florescent hell of a greasy spoon, somewhere out there. The tramp!

I love her.




Oh, yes please… directly into the vein.
That’s lovely…