Isn't it fucked up to know that the asshole went to your ed and says that you have an attitude problem? He (which means you) doesn't want to do sidey stories, and thinks too much of himself. All because of a column you invaribly do almost every week. And well she calls you by your name, sounds upset. Makes you upset. You go back home. Try and sleep over the matter of fact but you can't cause your mind doesn't rest. Till it thinks it over. There's a poor voice that manages poor advice, its so pathetic that perhaps you could pacify it. No. So you're awake half the night wondering random things. You wake up with the worst mood -- the pleasant weather and the first cig helps but not for long -- you enter off sullenly waiting for something to start again -- how long will it last? Do I have to suffer him till eternity? Answer me, good lord...