Mmmmm....drugs. Need to work more. Why, you ask? Well, that's simple. I need more money to buy more drugs. Drugs. Drugs. Sedatives. Make-a me happy. In the brain. And everythings okay again. It's like being a child. And I don't have to worry about a god damn thing. Not a god damn thing. So, I had better go to bed before this delightful feeling wears off, and I'm myself again. Sex is a wonderful drug as well. I'd like to bottle that stuff. Yeah sex, best thing ever. Except for the whole baby making thing... Emotion-smotion. Shlonga is the key to happy as far as I'm concerned. And I'm not. Prostitutes have it made. They have lots of sex and get paid for it. Could it get better? Probably. But that's not the point right now, is it? My ethics are fading... fading. Not gonna think about this right now though. Keeping the happy is way too important. God, I'm retarded. And tired. Bed now. Question ethics later.