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Sometimes the thoughts in my head get bored and go out for a stroll through my mouth. This is rarely a good thing.

So, sleep. And afterwards, it might be not-so-dumb. Fatigue makes Existentialists of us all. Sleep until you Rip Van Winkle the fuck out of your bad self. Hey, it worked for him. And if it can do that in a story of fiction, just think what it might do for a story, like yours, of Fact.

Freaking love this one! It is so true ! I Want to make enough money to never have to think twice about adding guacamole.