It is midnight. I have watched Old School, eaten 2 slices of pizza, and laughed riotously. All of those are things I’ve done before (well, not watch Old School, but you know what I mean) and yet, I’ve never felt icky afterward.

I’m going to bed. Not that I’ll sleep, necessarily, but I can sure as hell try.

My body is saying “oooohhhhh, icky” and my brain is saying “IS this it? IS THIS IT? Or did Domino’s give us bad mushrooms??”

Sigh. Who knows, eh?