Not in the I’m so upset I can’t think straight sense. Nor in the I am seeing pink elephants this can’t be good sense. Merely in the I can’t remember shit and I must be getting old sense.
Hear that sizzle? That’s brain cells frying.
Earlier, it took me about three full minutes to remember the name of the villain played by Jonathan Pryce in Tomorrow Never Dies. Come! On! I wrote the frickin BOOK.
My IQ is just whithering away. I need sex. Sex would fix this. Don’t try to tell me otherwise.
