I can't seem to focus. My brain is going fast and nowhere. I feel like Biff Tannen: over-revving my car for so long that by the time I actually do anything, my goal will have grabbed a long string of flags and been carried off by a DeLorean, whilst I crash into the manure of failure.
Yes, that was a tortured metaphor. But when my mind is humming with futility, I need to grasp onto the familiar. Which in this case is Back to the Future II.
In every case it's Back to the Future II.
I'm trying to type with enough speed that my thoughts can escape my brain without my mental sphincter closing up to stop the flow.
Yes, that was an unpleasant metaphor. But when my mind is raging impotently, I need to grasp onto the familiar. Which in this case is disgusting imagery.
In every case it's disgusting imagery.
And Back to the Future II.
On my gravestone, there will be an etching of Old Marty eating eyeballs without any pants. (Those pants-less eyeballs are the most disgusting of all)
Yes, this entry is nonsensical. But when my thoughts are pulsing like a dying radioactive nun, I need to grasp onto the familiar. Which in this case is a dying radioactive nun.
Hmm.
I seem to have confused myself.
I think there are a few conclusions to be drawn from this:
1) Avoid references to Back to the Future II. Most people don't remember it well enough to make them worthwhile.
2) In the above conclusion, "them" refers to the people, not the references
3) Disgusting images will only attract psychopaths, and repel the pure and just. Find a way to reach the pure psychopaths, for they shall inherit the Earth (I've left them some earth in my will).
4) We must find out who killed the radioactive nun. Perhaps some kind of Ice Monster? Or a Lead Skellington?
5) Much. Less. COFFEE.
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