And having said that, allow me the brief indulgence of claiming that my head is currently full of late-night, cold dark sky blurriness, topped with a light froth of verisimilitude and a sprinkle of powdered morning. I've got rainbows in between each of my toes, and my fingers have gotten long and spidery as they scratch the moon's face (see the marks, there!). My eyeballs are globular and bouncy like the big superballs you used to get for a quarter from the red-topped vending machine near the supermarket exit, and my heart is wrapped in tissue paper in a box in the closet under the stairs.
What...what's that...it's K-K-Ken c-c-come to k-k-kill me...? No! It's a bucket of botulism slung in the hand of a giant walking bassoon! No! Wait! It's a free set of steak knives, with oxygen-action! And a monkey! No, no, it's...it's!
Christ, is it time for bed. In the hissing words of Tom Cruise, Now More Than Ever.
Thank you! I'm here 'till Thursday.
