Its 7:30 Sunday morning and I’m suffering from the effects of a coffee overdose.  About an hour ago I drank twelve cups of black South American speed.  I think I’m up to piss number eight and I feel the ninth coming on.  The Great Cornholio is a geriatric compared to me right now.

It is to the point that I feel like I’m tripping my balls off.  Shit keeps moving in and out of my peripheral, and I think a colony of ants is waging war on my pickled skin.  I don’t know how to come down or if I really want to.  The classic country radio station is the only stimulus I can handle at this moment.  Something about finger picking is a calming harbor.  My urine smells like a Dunkin Donuts.  Donuts sound good.  I’m scared shitless to leave the house though.  Any cop would haul my ass in thinking I just smoked a gram of meth.

I think I’m going to have to swear off the java for a week to make sure my kidneys are still functioning correctly.  If there is such thing as a caffeine hangover, I will surely have it. Oh shit, Glen Campbell is singing…there is no drug on this earth can that make him bearable.  If I could concentrate I would finish typing my longhand manuscripts but the keyboard is beginning to move a bit too much.  Signing off for now, I think my colon is about to erupt.