You know that buzz of energy you get right after you've really started to kick the shit out of a bad disease, or cold, or H1N1-cloned hypervirus? The sensation that yes, your womb-brewed cells are finally eating back more of the tiny little fuckers than the ones that are already eating and shitting your own materials back into your own bloodstreams?

No? Thats just me, you say? I should lay down, shave, possibly shower at the same time, and calm down? Or at least stop perching my nude (save for towel-cape) form right above you while you sleep, awoken only by my selfish questions I whisper into your ears about the contents of my bloodstream and relative energy levels?

Well fuck you, imma draw shit probably in a shotgun blastload over the next few. Hours. Days.

Hourdays.