I really have to take a piss right now, but because my roommate is on drugs right now, and talking about cows drinking milk on the street corner, I am whole-heartedly remaining glued to my chair.

Prescription painkillers are potent, my friends, and to the casual observer, potent is good. Potent means that the ceiling is an exciting new world for my roommate. It's entertaining, especially on a day like today, when my folly caused a fuse to blow -- who needs electricity or TV, when your roommate thinks that the guy across the hall is a giant squirrel and is chasing him around with an umbrella.

Yessir. For me to leave my chair and go to the bathroom would be akin to leaving the theatre in the middle of the final epic battle of Matrix: Revolutions, or if you prefer, telling a girl, "Sorry, I'm not really in the mood for a blow job," either way you are missing out on something.

So I'm going to continue on, and hope my bladder can hold out just a few more minutes....

Oh god... he's got a bottle of water... think of the desert... think of the desert...

Sahara... Gobi... Fuck.

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