Forgive me if I seem a little bit off today. Last night I watched Zardoz without getting remarkably stoned first, and I’m pretty sure important parts of my brain are now synaptically rewired as a result. For instance: I went to pour myself some vanilla coffee just a second ago, but instead of pouring it into my favorite mug like I normally would, I killed a squirrel with a well-thrown stone instead. Then I skinned the damned thing with the sharpened edge of my belt buckle and used its pelt to buff my computer screen. Which, y’know, just isn’t like me.

Conclusion: clearly I’m inside the vortex, though I’m not quite sure the level; my role: exterminator. Either that, or the wife slipped some Bufotenine into my Folgers again. She hates it when I forget to take the recycling bins out to the curb.

Now. There must be a breakfast pastry around here somewhere…