is it love that hurts?

i spent 24 hours in bed this weekend recovering from a serious bout of food poisoning combined with a bucket of j & b. i was so dehydrated when i awoke that i had lost fifty percent of my lips, and my tongue was too big to ask why there were seven chinese prostitutes eating my breakfast on my bedroom floor.
i am still ill, but the worst result of hurling a full RACTED dinner (thanks for the invitations, but please leave me alone) is a pulled neck muscle. it is difficult to find exercise in poppystan, as the air is too foul to breath deeply into the lungs, and the land has been left demolished by the "cold" war's biggest blunders. therefore my RACT of tossing was the most exercise i've had since january.

so i'm left with a crooked neck.

damn, i'm sensitive to the ills of humanity.