Is there a long-term chemical solution to being a f*ck up ?

My Yom Kippur holidays did not end up that well. As I was already late for work this morning (the day my boss returned to work…well done FHC !) and in an awful mood, I could not find my keys. Usually that wouldn’t be such a problem but Kevin D. has just left on Tour and I am taking the 7 pm shuttle for LLville tonight directly after work so I really needed the f**ing set of keys. I found them in a shoe box in a closet fifty minutes later (at 9:45 am) after torning my house apart and slicing the cat open to check he had not swallowed them. I do remember opening at one point that box (I keep my passport and my drug money in there…just in case you plan to break into my empty house over the Week-end), but I have no idea why I placed the keys in there. WHY ? It seems such an odd gesture. I did not cry but I reached a low serotonin point.

Clearly all that mess has to be attributed to dropping on 09/16 my recently acquired chemical balance and giving all my decorative mood enhancing pills stock to some homeless dude at the corner of Penn and 18^th. I confess that as a consequence lately, I cannot concentrate, sleep at night or remember anything (LL had to whisper to me my first name at a cocktail party last week) and that I often secretly wish Olliver D.’s death (at least that was taken care of this morning). Yes I forgot my ATM card PIN number which is embarrassing for everybody involved and today I could not log into my account short of my online banking security number. I was not very smart before (I am a non-observant goyim unfortunately) but now it is just painful to even pretend. Yet I believe that prolonged stability in tablet form is not a solution and apparently I am not the only one in the blogosphere. Faggotty-ass-faggott himself quit not-well-at-all-butrin too on 09/06 (nobody is keeping tabs here) and he is still alive. He might be a bit down….not sure. I tried to get him back on it through a mean comment on 10/11 but I did not succeed.

Everybody has his say on this, LL, who witnesses high volatility in my sleep and instability in my mood, suggested I get back on Buspar yesterday night, even the Gs, who would force-feed me ecstasy and push me over the edge if they could, have been campaigning for a mood enhanced FHC through Kevin D. for weeks now, Alex A. told me “you are not the jovial FHC I knew anymore” on Wednesday night (if people start telling the truth around here, I'm going to bed as Jacky O. would say) and the bagel lady told me this morning “God works in your life in very specific ways”. And my estranged “parents”…never knew I was on drugs anyway. Clearly being a miserable god-fearing psycho is frowned upon in my miniature society and everybody prefers pharmaceuticals-abusing FHC to the real lunatic paranoid dark yet slim-FHCy. Well guess what ? I don’t believe in your petit-Bourgeois pursuit of happiness crap so just hide the kitchen knives like everybody else. And if you insist, I’ll drink my way to happiness this Week end and watch Harold and Maude.

In blogorama. Not much because this is just rude to blog the Friday after Yom Kippur obviously. Are we really supposed to get excited about the panda cub name revelation on Monday (note to self...post I hate Panda I f***ing hate them entry) ?  Can someone read tuckova for me ? Vividblurry is dying…let’s hope it’s not the blog avian flu this time. A short visit to bratboy school  and Gil G. asked me to type the word failure under google and then hit the "I'm feeling lucky" button.  Oh also I'd like to call a stop to the bloggers Tom Cruise bashing...because if you American should have understood something from your recent history is that fanatics enjoy martyrdom.

Comments

[LL]

We don't think you've ever stopped being jovial since we met you.

[Tristan]

You are da bomb L !