I am so friggin happy that the Sox won, that Ann is my friend and that I survived the summer. My manic nature is approaching a capstone nadir, brimming with dopamine and new REM songs. I’d like to thank my release inhibitors for the nucleus accumbens* that made possible this brief reward experience. The only thing that can possibly dampen this happiness is the coming punch line. Tell me it’s not coming and tell me it’s not a punch. Or a line. Please don’t ruin this for me. Please. It feels so nice. I feel normal. Or happy. I don’t quite know the difference. Been awhile.
*a nucleus forming the floor of the caudal part of the anterior prolongation of the lateral ventricle of the brain
3 comments:
Happy Happy, Joy Joy! Happy Happy, Joy Joy!
Does this mean I'm Ren? (I really wanted to be the one to cough up the golden hair balls.) : )
I guess you would be the Ren to my Stimpy, i.e. the voice of reason in an otherwise absurd situation with a comically clueless dude. Can do without the hairball, though. Just as I'm sure you could do without me snacking on kitty litter.
PK
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