Either having a heart attack, or a spaz attack. Don't think I eat enough Mars bars for it to be the former. So it must be that latter. My head seems to be spinning on it's axis. My chest is doing something funny. Possibly trying to expel my lungs from it. I'm trying very hard to concentrate on writing this, and not the sense of impending doom trying to kick all the pleasant thoughts out of my head and set up shop. Squatters rights do not apply to brains!
Hence the blogging. Me me ma mo. Mo mo ma may. Think happy thoughts, Paul Danan's career, fluffy puppies, that last Minstrel in the packet you thought was empty.
Yer, but what if you trip over the fluffy puppy, choke on the Minstrel and end up in the bed next to Danan? Ker-ist, does anybody have a valium?
