Headache, 2/6/09
Our writers' room lights are fluorescent
Which is getting to be most unpleasant.
By the end of the day
My wits are all frayed
And my brain has become too tumescent.
Eve of destruction, 12/8/09
Tomorrow I turn 41. What to do once these limericks are done? Will my idle hands seek Out some evil unspeak- able once this new freedom's begun?
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