Our 3rd eye - Descartes says it's our pineal gland located in the center of our concavities and fed by the carotid. I rely on it (or whatever is the pathway to our soul) to clinch affirmations from everyday events. Take me to the pilot is a cover for 'help me with the take on my 3rd eye reading'. I purposely am steering away from last nite's extravaganza. so I went to a story generator this morning and it came up with this: WARNING - crap squared forthcoming. . . . . The evening, sometime before we all got busted, Aunt Maude became a businessman's sidekick. But then God came down with His intelligent smile and restored Fels Darnell's rhythm stick. Feeling worried, God smote the squids for their injustice. Then He got in His curb-jumping ghetto sled (Impala) and bolted away with the fortitude of 550,000 disease-carrying chipmunks running from a teensy pack of venomous koalas. Fels Darnell stumbled with joy when he saw this. His dowling rod was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in four minutes his favorite TV show, Jersey Shore, was going to come on (followed immediately by 'When long-haired sea monkeys meet gun'). Fels Darnell was contented. And so, everyone except Drunk and a few bloody glove- toting 3-legged wallabies lived blissfully happy, forever after.

My nonsense contains a different ridiculous than that. Lord, thank you for my swollen member.