Sweet. Mary. Jane. This is truly...

Uh...surreal. Yeah.

I've managed to catch the cold the stakeholders brought back, and it's untimely as hell. The very morning I hoped to make some serious progress on converting the secret lair from a series of holes in the ground to a series of concrete-filled holes, and instead I'm dragging myself around filling tissues with phlegm and feeling like I tried to swallow a large pincushion.

I'm a wuss about being sick, and I really hate being a wuss. So I'm blog-surfing and trying to forget my troubles, and one thing leads to another which leads to another which leads to...well, this:



And suddenly, on top of all my other problems, reality ceases to have any meaning at all. I can only speculate that they didn't actually know what a "toke" was.