This weekend I was planning on doing some very idiosyncratic things to myself but it appears that instead I will have a full plate. Most of you probably don't know what a "full plate" is because of sheltered upbringings and head injuries, which many of you clearly have. A full plate is a plate that is filled with items and you can no longer see the pattern underneath. Do you know what a pattern is? You probably don't because you had a sheltered upbringing and most of you were probably born in the monkey house at the San Diego Zoo. Stop back some time. The people who do their sex business in there would like to meet you for you are their child. Go ahead, own up to your past. Own up to it. What are you afraid of? The truth?

Get out from behind that desk and if you need to, hit yourself in the face with a hammer, but get out there and deal with the monkey house where you were conceived and born by humans who were in there for no goddamned good reason. Go on, go back. See your true origins. Experience simulated evolution in real time. Do it. Do it now.

I am getting into the imaging chamber again. If you don't do what I say, I will go back to your childhood by leaping into the body of a strong, masculine relative and hurl your ass off the side of a bridge. Don't think I won't do it.

Go back to the monkey house NOW.

My friends. Don't make me stop being your friend by refusing to obey a direct order.

Don't make me. I will.

I am so tired of you and your oodles of noodles crap. Get out of my head. Get out of there.

Get out of my head!

Thank you. I'll have the flan.