Stoopid bird.
Time and time again I do it, and time and time again I berate myself when I ... umm ... wake up.
Never, never, never, never, never post stuff when in an altered state. There is an off chance that it might be okay, but the odds are similar to those of winning the lottery. Best not to bother - I tell myself yet again. Gah!
Stupid, stupid me. Now, I must go and stand in the corner for an hour.
Confused? Here's a poem I wrote about 'it'. Profound or what?!
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