It's beginning to look like the flying brain  monkeys got bored and went home. That in itself is a pretty sad commentary on the inner workings of my brain. Not enough going on up there to even keep monkeys entertained. The up side is, the absence of monkeys makes room for pondering. Pondering usually means more incredibly stupid stuff jumping out from between my ears. Before that happens though let me clear something up. Anything you may have heard about me, a hooker, and a goat is a vicious prevarication perpetrated by the Illuminati. It is intended to discredit me and my legitimate business dealings with the aliens from the planet Prozac 4. My efforts to procure the Prozacian tincture that will grow hair on my feet like a hobbit, is my business.