i’ll tell ya…this flu vaccine (henceforth referred to as FV) is still trippin out my head…i’m constantly bombarded by raptured halluci-notions.  just when i begin to think that i’m finally in the enwrapping embrace of a kinder. gentler, understanding humanity, the drugs kick in and i’m tripped away again.  bullshit?  oh yeah, well here’s my moment’s vision:

…humbug green sheep have you any tools?

yes sire—to make fire, some incendiary ooze…

blasting caps to blast her,

gelled gasoline for flame

and an accelerant to expedite

the consumption

of all that remains.

I’ve even got visions of sugarplums dancing in my bed:

er….sorry.  I guess this one is some other kind of fantasy

...and one of the greatest gifts a prof can get from his students...

                 Gratitude!!!

Well, strangle my Xanga!

What's the deal?  Has the gift of Premium to all become a blithering albatross leading to such current sluggish access that if I were a lover in my honeymoon bed awaiting my mistress' reluctant exeunt from the shower/powder room that I'd be pondering divorce (or at least my navel)??

Ack!!!  ...and so this is the way that Xanga ends, this is the way it ends, not with a thudding blog, but with a whimpering page unloaded??