I just wish I could make my head stop doing whatever it's been doing all day. Some kinda acid-fortified chubby checker twist with a shot of lime. I've got ball bearing for brains and cassabah melons for eyes. It's a whole new kinda Xanadu. I feel like a combination of Hamlet and Icabod Crane. I'm holding my own skull in my hand and asking it questions with my ass. Stuff like this doesn't happen unless you're old enough to understand all those obscure 80's references in current commercials. Stuff like this doesn't happen until you spend so much time at home that those horrible commercial are the highlight of your evening. Them and a the knowledge that some pop culture icons never go away no matter how irritating they are.
Flashdance!
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