I loveass

As a result of the popular demand of my readership I have decided to be serious for a few moments before the obligatorially astounding portion of the segment, and with absolutely no delay, I talked with a friend last week who was melancholic over the loss of an old friend and I pinched his cheek, no not the dead guy's cheek. And afterward he said some words about despair, no, a dead guy can't speak at all. Yes, it was despair that was expressed and I couldn't help but feel as if it were enjoyed, and then you say despair is a miserable state of mind and then I say that if it was so miserable then why would a person engage in such an activity? And you say the truth hurts, but does it hurt to be truthful? Dunno, but you might say it hurts to be alive. And so I say that I felt myself in a dark room, completely black and absent of everything but existence itself. I was not quite sure if I was alive or dead, and when I came out of that room I felt completely refreshed, invigorated, as if from a long satisfying sleep, after which I continued to wonder and wander, and I felt no despair and in spite of everything I felt mirthful and I wanted nothing more than to go for a ride. Go for a ride, go for a ride, WooHoo!, gonna go for a ride!

(-this message brought to you by FeelTheMirth!nc, if you're feeling saucy you may as well taste good too!)