Grumble Grumble Grumble

I find it monstrously unfair that though I stayed in last night doing laundry and reading instead of imbibing my usual Thirsty Thursday quota, I have a headache. I don’t get non-hangover-induced headaches. Doesn’t happen to me. When I’m not hung over, my brain is so grateful not to be drained of all hydration that it behaves itself. Until today when it suddenly became a whiner. Shape up buddy or I’ll really give you something to cry about. It’s Friday. I’ll do it. Don’t mess around with me, Brain. I have an override button that allows me to put rumndietcokes into my mouth with or without your help as evidenced by so many previous black outs.

Really, I should probably blame Neck and not Brain because that’s where this trouble started. I have a crick from reading last night with my head in Beau’s lap. I don’t know how to threaten a neck, but I’m open to suggestions unless they involve a guillotine. That’s the only neck punishment I could think of, but it doesn’t seem fair to take disciplinary action against Shoulders and Pretty Little Face both of whom I’m sure would be marred as a result. Back to the drawing board, readers.