I awoke this morning , after dreaming of geysers of ruby gushing from my nostrils, located my slippers and trousers (in that order) and grumbled my way into the bathroom like a lumpy bag of middle-aged bicycles. After hacking a cough onto the mirror, I watched my condensation fade to observe my nose beginning to bleed.

The obvious conclusions? Either self-inflicted physical exhaustion, mental incapacitation, utterly moronic substance abuse, viral infection and a few days malnutrition have combined to render me some sort of seriously broken oracle

OR

self-inflicted physical exhaustion, mental incapacitation, utterly moronic substance abuse, viral infection and a few days malnutrition have combined to give me the kind of intense bodily self-control reserved for Shaolin monks, Steven Seagal, Batman and Action Man (in one of the graphic novels comics I read once last week where he escaped imprisonment on an imminently exploding ship by thinking himself thin enough to slide out of his ropes and under a door).


Oddly enough, this completely inconsequential and utterly irrelevant factoid is possibly the least banal and annoying action I've committed, since that last relatively barely banal and annoying thing I documented here.

Yep.