XXX Post

I know you came here expecting to read a fluff piece about matricide, but something important happened last night.

I don't know, if you know, that I've been battling insomnia for the last three years.  I'm afraid to go to bed unless I've been chasing cough syrup with bourbon and sometimes that isn't enough.  Admittedly, I've never been very good at sleeping.  For you it's a natural skill but for me it's about as natural as eating gum off my shoe.  I wish it was only night terrors or mid-night empties, but it's much worse.  There's a demon trying to kill me.  I go to bed a healthy, fearlessly whoozy, self-medicated CEO and wake up an armadillo that works nights as a speed bump.  Today I almost wet myself during the twelve foot trek to the toilet because the stabbing pain in my left buttock left me unable to walk.  An innocent looking, pillow-topped demon named Mattress attacks me at night.

I baubled the Beast with 1200 count sheets and $150 down pillows, but she attacked me all the more-enough.  Evil Mattress will die in a sanitary landfill with diapers and pizza boxes.  She'll be all of three years old.

Okay, now the countdown.  I have three minutes before the fifteen minute blog is finished.  Did you know I set an egg timer and fifteen minutes is what you read?  Pretty simple system.