Saturday, July 20, 2013

Do You Ever Feel Like Tyler Durden?

This is like the most thoughtful question I've gotten about insomnia for a long time. In fact, when people belittle insomnia as a real thing, I ask them if they remember how "Fight Club" started. They tell me they have no idea what I'm talking about--twice, strangely--and I walk away because having the credit set to zero would help my life tremendously (those were a few Fight Club references, for the rest of you guys who didn't watch this movie somehow. Maybe you were studying abroad and saw a horrible translation of a movie title, like La Discoteca de Lucha or Hombre Lucharse, and then got sidetracked by some pretty incredible historical sights. Rilli tho, Spain is a pretty cool place to go that also has terrible translations of movie titles.)

Tyler Durden is a great example of what can happen when you don't sleep. You can create a cult, kill people by accident, and develop dissociative identity disorder (I'm late on getting my DSM V--this is still in there, right?) all over the course of a few months. As I'm writing this, I'm sublingually administering half an Ambien. If you've ever done this, you know that my bad-assery is definitely on par with Tyler Durden and you also probably never did it again. Putting Ambien (zolpidem tartrate) under your tongue and letting the solid pill dissolve, as the vagrant, now slightly viscous powder-saliva aims for your inconveniently placed bitter-receptor taste buds, is no easy feat. It's like putting a cube of pool-cue chalk in your mouth and waiting for it to sting...yes, it stings (why?). I could easily go on another tangent on pica and how I think anyone with pica is a freak (not at furry status, tho), but I've done that too many times.

Why sublingual administration? Because snorting is not an option, needles are horrifying (as much as sometimes mainlining Ambien seems like a good idea--at least to my Ambien self, who is coming out to play as we speak), and also...go hard or go home. Basically it works faster (they do this with some seizure meds too, except those are more like Communion wafers. OMG I love Communion wafers. They're THE BEST. You only get them at white-people churches tho bc honestly you know that's the cheap shit. Yet ANOTHER reason Latino churches are superior is that they give you straight up BREAD. Like you are AWARE you are eating the Body of Christ with the practical loaf they give you. All white churches care about is how short the homily is gonna be so that they can get the stale donuts downstairs [which the Church didn't even buy]. But their homilies suck anyway. Latino homilies are like [in Spanish] "Yo, it's early, but all the more reason to review some of the most fucked-up lives and situations we have in the Bible. Let's review this and look at our own lives and shut the fuck up and follow the Golden Rule.").

Now that I for no reason have given you this lesson in pills, back to Tyler Durden. Edward Norton was such a bitch in the movie that they didn't even give his character a name--only his alter. That's pretty fucked up, but I guess it's just demonstrative of THE MILLIONS OF NAMELESS INSOMNIACS ALL OVER. Also, just to reiterate, there's no such thing as productive insomnia, so I guess that's why they have to make Edward Norton a bitch.

Now that I'm thinking about it, Tyler Durden got a lot of shit done. He coordinated a worldwide phenomenon and convinced his followers to execute his plan. I now understand this movie in a whole new way--Tyler Durden is Edward Norton's Ambien self. Like why the fuck would you make a soap company unless you thought it was a good idea on Ambien? (No offense to my friend who actually made a soap company; I should probably buy some soap from you soon just for writing that. Unless it was an Ambien idea).

Sorry, everyone, I'm actually so blown away (unlike Edward Norton, somehow, which I never really understood because that was a real gun) by my realization that Tyler Durden is the Ambien self that I'm gonna try to go to sleep. Also because the Ambien dissolved. To answer the question, I guess I only slightly feel like Tyler Durden. Only slightly. Sleep, dear friends, you need it to avoid dissociation!

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Is Cam'Ron Obsessed With Harry Potter?

Of course he is. Ridiculous question. Here's a verse he wrote in 2011:

The sorcerer’s home
I’m the source of the stone
Crack rocks home grown
I hold the wand
Eat bon bons
With Tom Toms
Genius of love
I’m a genius of hugs
I squash all the bugs
I gotta mean mug
I serve that caramel latte
That Cam latte

I make that starbuck
That money stuff
That money’s rough
Streets rough n stuff
I gotta lotta stuff
She gets a lotta stuffed
That Butterball
You know I ball

I don’t roll with Hufflepuffs
I’m on that Muggle buff
That up and up
That 9 ¾ step
That magic cup
I cook it up
In my Pyrex Potter cup
She got that Ravenclaw
That Haven claw
She scratch n Sniff
I vault her quick

I serv n’ Snape
I slither in
That slippy slidey
Slip n spin
That skip it skin
I boy toy roy roy
Quidditch win
10 points for dementor
I’m da mentor
I’m talking Dumbledore
You dummy bore
Should hit the floor
I’ll get you more
I sort the hats
That fedora sombrero
I’m the top hat
Her bottom’s flat
I can’t do that
Ratatat expelliarme out the flat

Ronald Weasley
Ronald McDonald
Ya mo be there
Michael McDonald
I’ll wrap your snacks
Show up at the drive thru
Castle no hassle
Just hustles and tassles

I run botany class
I plant plants
And she pant pants
Can’t breathe
And she got no pants
Just a note pad
And a tote bag
and I bag n toke
I’ll give her a token
Back to Azkaban
That’s killa’s plan

Monday, April 22, 2013

What's the Best Part of Being an Insomniac?

Every now and then, I like to peep my traffic sources (Whaddup, Germany and Russia?! Thanks for reading!) and keyword searches that lead people to Ask An Insomniac (AAI). (Whatever--it's not a book, but I wanted to add the italics for DRAMATIZATION. Plus, I'm that not-tired tired that is sadly familiar to many of us. The proud, the few, the AWAKE ALL THE FUCKING TIME, DEAR SLEEP WAVES ALPHA THROUGH DELTA AND PHARMA, PLEASE HELP US .)

I came upon this today:

This is a sampling of some of the things that people search to get to this weird, weird blog. Big up all the real insomniacs who were too tired to spell or use proper punctuation (boxed in green). "Tounge," ". o," "insomniax," and "comborbities," I salute you. (Also hoping there isn't a Club Insomniax that I haven't been to yet.) Especially you, comborbities. Because--ask your doctor--but you may have comorbid insomnia and dyslexia. But this is a safe place, especially if you bring up Cuban sandwiches (!!!!!).

But this leads to today's question, "What's the best part of being an insomniac?"
I would like to assume that this is from a fellow insomniac, as I imagine him/her/ze crawling Grudge-style to the computer after days without sleep and hallucinating patterns the likes of which Tim Gunn is probably telling you suck, whilst secretly plotting to sell them to the sleeping masses (My longest stretch with NO sleep was 36 hours--the patterns are real, son. Well, in that they're not real, but they are).

OK, so perhaps I've already given you one idea for what the best part of being an insomniac is...if you work in fashion. Please send me freebies if I have inspired you, thanks.

So that's my assumption, worst-case scenario is that we're like in the danger hours during which shingles or encephalitis or IFIDONTFINDMYPILLOWINTHISROOMFULLOF...PILLOWS? occur. Equally bad is if it's someone who doesn't really have insomnia but is trying to coopt the struggle. That's right guys, there are insomnia hipsters out there, and they aim to diminish our experience.

People think it's cool to have insomnia. People think insomnia is not a real thing. Put these two widespread thoughts about insomnia out there, and you have a trendy, non-illness illness. :/

To the people who want to co-opt "productive insomnia" as an identity/struggle, your real struggle is not sounding full of shit to actual insomniacs while having to hope that a pack of insomniacs doesn't come for dat ass at 5:30am while you're "not sleeping productively" in your fucking den of lies.  

I've mentioned "productive insomnia" before and how anyone who tells you they have it is mid-manic episode (altho it could easily be drug-induced insomnia), but I've heard it again from people I know damn well have no trouble sleeping. No one has productive diabetes, no one has productive chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), and no one has productive insomnia. 

(Who curses Sir Walter Raleigh aside from someone who hasn't slept?! Think about it)

This begs the question, "What illnesses have productive aspects?" Going back to diabetes, perhaps being in studies for medications that work or being in focus groups to better quality of life may be productive. Same goes for COPD. So, as we can see the "productive" aspects are merely byproducts of an illness with which one has to contend and to treat. Insomnia is also an illness. If I happen to draw something during an hour I can't sleep, it doesn't mean I'm being productive--it means I'm avoiding the effects of the illness. But chances are I have work the next day. So if you think that one hour of shitty drawing at 4 am is productive, just wait till the next 18 hours of my not doing shieeettt.

Wait till the very productive discussion that goes like this:
Coworker (in slow motion, from my perspective): "Gooooood mornnnnning, how are yoooouuuuu?"
Me: "Is. it. the. morning? I ju--"
Coworker (I'm catching on, her voice has picked up in speed): "Haha, you're so funny. It's only Tuesday, silly!"
Me: "Tuesday? Wait, were we here yesterday?"
Coworker: "No, you called me and asked me to tell the boss to tell her you were gonna be out. Something about the couch was talking to you and you couldn't 'handle it right now' and also you think you should use 2B pencils on Oscar Wilde, but maybe markers could give you the flexibility in color that you were looking for; you read me a hypothetical to-do list for city council members and asked me if there was anything I should add; you told me that Jimmy Fallon should stop frowning at all his guests and read me your letter to NBC; and you asked if I'd be interested in a coup d'etat."
Me: "Thanks. Do you want something from Starbucks?"
That's how productive my insomnia gets, people. It's all fun and games until you have to explain the coup situation to human resources.

One of my brands of insomnia means that I cannot get to sleep. Think "I'm So Tired" by The Beatles. Or "How Soon Is Now" (if I'm listening to it while I'm tired...I am human and I need to be REM'd...just like everybody else sleeps...)

Every insomniac is different, so any positives you can find are just that--positives. Let me know what some of yours are! Sometimes there's pleasure in knowing I'm the only person awake, but if I have to do a cost-benefit ratio, it never looks so good on the benefit side.

"See, I've already waited too long...and my hope is gone...." (=some nights. Once it hits 4 am, I know that night is a wrap)

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Do You Ask All These Questions Yourself?

OK, full disclosure, it is before 7am and I have been up for hours. I have not had Ambien in a couple days because I've been trying to get my tolerance down, but that also means that Benadryl is basically the only other option left in the cards for me. FYI if I have not already mentioned this, the active ingredient in Benadryl is the same active ingredient in like Unisom and all that other OTC shit they try to tell you will help you sleep. It's called diphenhydramine. I just saved you tens of dollars just now.

Also, why did Blogspot tell me that Benadryl is not a word but that Ambien is? Is it psychic or some shit? Because I was just about to say how Benadryl is not the truth. Like if p>q, then Benadryl is false and we reject the null hypothesis and by transitive property of made-this-whole-tautology-up, Benadryl is nonsignificant and stupid. (Guys, I hope you know I'm being ironic here. I actually is good at math and know both logic and statistics, which I hope was evident by the use of the word "tautology." Like honestly, when's the last time you heard that? I'm gonna try to integrate [oh shit, another math word!] "tautology" in my vocabulary more frequently. Except that I'm rarely logical unless...nope, I'm just rarely logical. Actually, that's all a lie. I USED to be good at know I went to the Stuyvesantz and shit, so I had to know something. And BTW I never cheated there, because I know that's what you're thinking after all these cheating scandals...For the tests I knew I was going to fail, I just walked in with failure on my face and left with failure on my Scantrons. Which is what real students should do (fail? Again, the logic thing is lacking at the moment [read: always].) Anyway, the point is that I peaked at 13 in terms of basically all intelligence and it's been downhill since then. But don't tell my colleagues because people consider me one of the few people who can actually legit read scientific studies and understand confidence intervals and shit like that, so if they saw this, it could hurt my reputation.

OK, I may be lying again, but I think this could also be difference of opinion as follows...So chemistry kind of eluded me because I couldn't really decipher the accents of the teachers who taught it and I wasn't about to go HAM on linguistic nuances and shit because that would be rude, but I literally never understood what my teachers were saying. Anyway, I had this deal with my lab partner where he was the Master of Ceremonies for the Bunsen Burner and I would do the lab reports because I was afraid of fire. I always had this feeling of imminent burn victim in Chem lab. Is that cheating?

I still fear flames not excluding the Waka Flocka sort. People come to my house sometimes and they're like "is pasta burning?" And I have to tell them yes, because I have devised a system of lighting candles that involves me taking a strand of Barilla spaghetti (when I can afford Barilla...otherwise I have to settle for Ronzoni...which is not as good but has a hilarious name to make up for it...oh shit, I'm being culturally insensitive. I'll apologize for that later, but back to fire) and lighting it at the end (I JUST got over my fear of lighters like 4 years ago) so that I can light candles. Recap: sometimes my house smells like burnt pasta because I use long strands of spaghetti with a low risk of burning myself because spaghetti is long so that I can light candles.

Also, fuck a physics. None of that shit made sense ever. I almost didn't get like the special diploma "smart people" are sposed to get from my HS because I failed the Physics Regents by 2 points. TWO POINTS. Who the fuck else would that happen to? But then some physics geniuses were like "this test was flawed" and my diploma was saved. Except for the part where they spelled my name wrong. There were mad Korean kids in my HS so they put "Park" on my diploma and I thought it was so funny that I kept it. The DMV did not agree. Anyway, thank you physics geniuses...even tho we can never be friends, I am grateful for your wisdom of a pseudoscience.

Oh shit, there was a question at the beginning because AAI is "Ask An Insomniac" and that means it is based in questions. But the whole thing about not sleeping is that then I have thoughts that keep running and basically my bad. I'm actually a decent writer, but this blog is like my run-on sentence playground. I had a limited childhood, so please just let me have this. Thanks. So yeah, I do in fact ask a lot of these questions myself. But I also ask a lot of questions. That's why I have Dostoevsky and shit in my bookcase. I'm very proud of my book collection. Which is to say there is no Jane Austen in it.

This post is getting unnecessarily long, so thank you for reading it and obviously enjoying it. xoxo unless you have TB. Sorry, some of that shit is transmitted via spores and I am Irish so based on all history, I am OD susceptible to the consumption (yes, that is what they called it. They call alcoholism "the drink," since you were wondering). And also that shit doesn't go away; it's like pulmonary herpes. And I am lacking in the health insurance dept at the moment so like don't give me the consumption.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Why Can't You Just Eat a Lot of Turkey to Go to Sleep Tho?

I'm not tryna get some backwards-ass serotonin syndrome off some sleep attempt via turkey. Everyone knows that shit turns to serotonin with the quickness. And serotonin is not as friendly with the body as it would like you to take a benadryl by accident with an SSRI (JUST SAYING, FOLKS, HYPOTHETICALLY) and you might be assed out with the ill serotonin syndrome. One time that shit had serotonin syndrome hit me hardbody...I can't even explain this.

(FYI the active ingredient in this is benadryl aka diphenhydramine.)

Like take hypnagogia, which is literally the midpoint of consciousness and unconsciousness (let's not get into the sub vs unconsciouness debate right now, please) you think you're dreaming...but dreams manifest in physical actions...that one time I took cough syrup when I was on an SSRI--I'm not ready for pharmacy legislation conversation right now, altho I will say a pharmacist did not consult me on that shit. Tell me how I was convinced that I was a fish smoking a cigarette. I woke up like "ssswwooooo," "swooooo," inhaling fake smoke mad loudly on my couch because I was having another crazy hypnagogic hallucination. Like that type of shit is LITERALLY the basis for Fight Club. But you know, no one wants it simplified down to the comborbities of insomnia and SSRI-benadryl interactions (ie, serotonin syndrome). It wouldn't sell.

But yet HEAVEN FORBID I have OD congestion, B, and I would like to so kindly, Sir CVS Man, cop some pseudoephedrine. THEN SHIT GETS REAL OUTTA NOWHERE. "Miss, can I have your ID [where you look like the midpoint between Courtney Love and Charlize Theron in Monster], please? I need to take your information down [so I know you're not building a meth lab in your apt]."

(This is a really accurate picture of what my State ID looks like.)

...In New York City?! With my penthouse-status (read: lie) one-bedroom apt (read: truth tho) I somewhere am housing a meth lab because Congress can't get their shit together and keep adding pork into bills and not into my Cuban sangwiches at 3 am? BULLSHIT. I don't have the time for congestion or for a start-up drug cartel. 

(Please note the most important element of the Cuban sandwich, the pickle.)

Yes, folks, the reason you have to give up your ID to get the good decongestant (not phenylephrine...NOT phenylephrine...that shit is more useless than decaf coffee) is because of the Patriot Act, everyone's favorite bill. They added it so muhfuhs in Utah might could maybe not end up on the season finale of Intervention but the ones with like the sad knockout-type stories at the end... "Clayton Larry went to rehab for 4.3 hours. He relapsed shortly after") Like even if I did, Kickstarter is gonna get shut down with the quickness once the legislative bodies decide to read no cartel for me...which is good, because I'm generally too tired to start one anyway!

But yeah, fall back on Turkey, let's talk about how the tryptophan in Turkey is negligible (yep, totally wrote "negligent" before I edited this...But at the end of the day, is turkey really looking out for you anyway?) compared to other foods.

Eg, via the world's most reliable reference, Wikipedia:
Tryptophan g/100g of Food
egg, white, dried
spirulina, dried
cod, atlantic, dried
soybeans, raw
cheese, Parmesan
sesame seed
cheese, cheddar
sunflower seed
pork, chop

What I'm tryna say is...Turkey ain't shit! Look at that up against the heavy hitters soybeans, parmesan cheese...did you see them in the gymnastics portion of the gymnastics? YOU SURE DID! Did you see how much those tired Russian chicks were falling like flies off the things they were born to do? Two of them didn't even know what a balance beam was...cuz they were fallin asleep after eating some eggs! FOOD CHARTS, FRIENDS....FOOD CHARTS.

Also, a reminder that eating turkey before you sleep will fuck with your neurotransmitters AND make you gain weight. Fuck you and ya whole tryptophan life.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Where You Been At Tho?!

I know I've been neglecting AAI. I'm sorry. It's been a combination of lack of sleep (just tryna stay true to the title of the blog, people).

Side note: I hate when people see how tired I am and then proceed to ask me how may hours of sleep I got. Like why is you in my business that heavy? Do I ask you how many calories you ate yesterday? Like if you're not gonna provide me with a food diary, you don't deserve my verbal sleep diary.

Worse is when I actually humor these sleep-privileged bastards and tell them how many hours I slept (ie, 3-4), and they're like (pretend there is an echo for this, because that is how I hear it...not only because sleep deprivation leaves me sensitive to sound, but because the reminder of how much sleep others get instead of me reverberates through my brain like in Lifetime movies when there is horrible foreshadowing of the evil husband saying something like "I would KILL for that much" and you're like, "I get it. He will kill this woman for some moneyz. Thanks, foreshadowing!) "OH MAN, I CAN'T DO LESS THAN SEVEN OR EIGHT HOURS."

SLEEP PRIVILEGE. Yes, I opened the privilege door. With the exception of OD circles under my eyes and almost looking like a zombie, being an insomniac is an invisible minority--also cuz you're likely to never see us in daylight--so those who sleep are sleep privileged to me. Also can we talk about the people who are complaining about the people eating people's faces not getting sympathy because they're being called zombies? Their argument is that these face-eaters are mentally ill people who are not getting the help they need and are being stigmatized. As an insomniac, I can speak with moderate confidence on zombies, because we are the walking almost-dead. As a crazy person--excuse me, mentally ill person--I can definitely speak with confidence on mental illness and all the joys,confusions, and whatthefucks we bring to the table.

These face-eaters are not mentally ill--they are doing muthafucking BATH SALTS, which I did not know was a drug until like a few months ago and I was like, "Wow, that's kind of impressive that people are turning hygienic products into drugs and then looking like they are the least hygienic people in all of Dirtland."

These are bath salts. They go with washcloths and skin. Not up noses. I have placed these bath salts strategically in my bathtub so that the visual helps you associate where they are supposed to go, like when you're in a restaurant and you see those "Stop Choking" signs that are spelled out in too many steps for you to read so as to effectively administer the Heimlich maneuver in a reasonable time span (better hope the non-choking party can speed-read!), but help you associate someone placing one's hands on one's own neck with the fact that they are choking. (Leave it to Germans to make practically punching someone's chest cavity into a life-saving strategy.)

These are meth heads who had to step down on the drug finances because they couldn't afford the Cheetos they were once accustomed to. It's analogous to how people who become cokeheads have to step down their finances and step up their crackitude by moving to crack. Very simple. And yes, while there is a comorbidity with mental illness and substance abuse, this is not mental illness. This is an explicit choice to exfoliate their brain cells with bath salts instead of their dead skin cells. I never thought I'd be in a position to prefer crackheads over anyone else. The only pity I feel here is that bath salt heads (that's what we gotta call them now, right?) don't have the luxury of eating their choice from the crackhead food pyramid and have to just downgrade their whole gastrointestinal lives so that they only have to eat household products (and faces).

It is possible that they can still afford the question mark of the battery acid. And for those of you who think I'm being insensitive, this is real life. I'm talking about crackheads in New York--some of them are cool, some of them throw popcorn at you on the A train and make you late for work because the police have to get them off the train, and some of them punch through car windows to grab GPS systems to sell them to pawn shops and make you question whether the block you're living on is a sound choice. (Thank you, Giuliani, for helping alleviate some of this tho.)

Also, I'm a mental illness elitist--I will associate myself with only the finest of DSM diagnoses, thank you. These protesters are like the equivalent of subject headlines--make a real cause before you make a posterboard. You're taking away posterboards from kids who actually need them. And don't act like you were never in 5th grade trying to make a presentation about the constitution only to find out that the 99-cent store--which is intended to be like the emporium of posterboards--were somehow all sold out. If you're following my very sound logic, defending people who do bath salts and get called zombies in the name of prevention of stigma against the mentally ill is taking 10 points off social studies projects for 5th-graders. THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Why Can't You Get Your Sh*t Together?

Because I have mental diarrhea. So in the literal context within the figurative question you pose, I can't get my shit together. (I KNOW, SHE'S SO CLEVER!)

I have my shit together...mostly. But I'll tell you who doesn't: the Amish. I try to be a cultural relativist, but the fact that it's 2012 is not relative at all. It's a given. It's 2012. Why don't the Amish know this? I mean the best idea for them really is just to move to Williamsburg, VA, so they can walk around looking colonial and shit and not only NOT get judged, but potentially paid. The Amish need to step their hustle up. They need to make me their financial advisor. People would definitely pay to watch them till shit or whatever--WHICH THEY DO ANYWAY--but they'd get paid.

OMG and people are totally obsessed with their baked goods--which raises the question, How are ovens allowed? But that's neither here nor there because delicious treats supersede moral creeds, unless you're talking about Hummus, which has come to the forefront lately in the context of middle Eastern conflict. People need to fall the fuck back over some chickpeas.

Oh, also, coffee is also not exempt from moral concerns, cuz a lot of shit goes down and it's hard out here for a coffee bean farmer. And like they do not NEARLY get the money they should be getting for their hard work, so like go out and buy free trade coffee and shit. It costs more, but if we don't incentivize (BY THE WAY, Blogger is telling me that's not a word, but I see it in advertising ALL THE TIME.) coffee farmers to produce the coffee, we are gonna be ASSED OUT.

If you think about it, coffee farmers are indirectly responsible for at least 85% of the world's productivity. Am I Right?! Like think about all the people you know who CAN'T DO SHIT until they've had their morning Joe (why do they call it that?! Although I guess it would be pretty sweet to have the same nickname as coffee. Poor Richards out there...). Obviously I am part of that population because if you take the Venn Diagram of insomniacs, coffee drinkers are a natural subset. That is my Venn Diagram reference of the day [look, Venn's ancestors hit me with a percentage every time I publicize their diagrams, so I am obligated to mention them every now and literally, EVERY NOW AND THEN...not only now...or then, for that matter. Don't hate on my obscure side hustle.] Ultimately, the point is that coffee farmers are the quietest healers of the world and no one took a minute to stop and think about that until just now. YOU'RE WELCOME FOR THE SUPERIOR PERSPECTIVE, btw.

So yeah, the Amish need to get their shit together. Or at least stop abusing their children and then shunning them when they grow up and wanna leave like, "You know what, the gene pool here in my community isn't looking so great and I wish the same recessive gene that causes fucked-up diseases wasn't a marker in 99% of my cousins. Even though my what-year-is-it-exactly clock isn't ticking, my Darwinist clock is totally ticking like a Connecticut deer (OMG GET IT?! TICKING?! It's OK, I had Lyme Disease before, I can make these jokes. Right? Cuz the risk of rheumatoid shit is still there for me as long as I live. Stupid bugs.). I need to get out of here so I can find an ideal mate who won't cause another inevitable Trisomy for my offspring. Also, I need to get in on this Generation Y work ethic that I've been missing out on in this field."

Because then the once-Amish go on Dateline NBC and fuck up shit for the WHOLE COMMUNITY by talking about how they cursed that one time they stubbed their toes on the wheel barrel and then got a needle stuck through their tongues as punishment JUST BECAUSE THEY CURSED. And people who used to be Amish are like the snitches to end all snitches. They don't give a fuck because their family doesn't have TVs so they're gonna bank on their peoples in Lancaster never seeing the shows where they snitch. (Ooh, I hear the Mister Softee truck outside!!!! Yet ANOTHER joy the Amish will never know! :( :( ) But even if someone cheated and did see the show, then THEY'D have to be shunned too. So the Amish are really digging themselves a pretty big hole here. I'm telling you, before Chris Hanson started telling people to sit down, there were the Amish diming their people out and discovering the excitement of AOL Instant Messenger for the first time.

What it all comes down to is that you need to focus more on whole groups of people who need to get their shit together instead of just me. I just need to get my sleep shit together. I'm doing other stuff that's pretty cool or whatever, so I'm good. But I guess also people with Crohn's disease and Celiac disease ask themselves this question every day. SO SAD. Luckily, there's Humira!