"I had a past life regression the other day,

as Terry prattled "deeply" yet again. This was getting tiresome. It seemed everyone had something meaningful to say about life lately, especially since

cousin Ida's conversion to Buddhism. Ida's daily meditations and serene chanting had captured everyone's imagination, but especially Terry. His platitudes on life were truly

bizarre. "To climb the mountain, one must first ingest the tapeworm." "You must twiggle that which does not wobble, for it shall be your undoing." I think Terry was off his meds.

Or else on the wrong ones. We don't just make up our own idiomatic platitudes. But it's not as if medication is anything but a palliative for life's real problems. Terry just

got here, so we had to entertain him. "Waste not want not," he said as he ate the chiliburger in the trash. My wife said, "One man's trash is another's treasure." I smiled in pain

t. That's how I expressed my anguish over the suffering of my fellow man. I'd smear a tube of black paint onto a canvas & then press my lips into it & smile. It was inkblot therapy

which was pretty messed up to be honest. A bit too artsy farsty for me. So I decided to let loose my anger upon the annnoying college kids down the road. I grabbed my gun and hit

myself in the crotch relentlessly. I starred at my reflection in the mirror. The gun at my left side, and my right hand constantly slapping my balls. My eyes watered

as I signed my real name at the bottom of the note. "Gone duck hunting against my will. Why did you tell Uncle Phil where I was hiding? - Vrishab. The dynasty continued.