Limbs and Other Forecasting Apparatus

Theoretically, I should have learned not to make predictions about stuff, but so much of my brain has been lost over the years that it's tough to remember that I should have learned not to make predictions about stuff. After all, so much of my brain has been lost over the years that it's tough to remember that I should have learned not to make predictions, especially when it comes to, you know, stuff.

Nevertheless, I'm going to go out on a limb here—an arm, probably—and make a forecast about the outcome of the drug test I'll be taking tomorrow. Fortunately, I was strong enough to resist the temptation to use Psilocybin as a headache remedy, because I'm pretty sure that's one of the substances they'll be looking for, which might ruin my chances of landing the job I interviewed for yesterday. I used LSD instead.

Another prediction I shouldn't make is that the current cluster-headache cycle seems to have reached its peak, and is now sliding down the other side of the hill and into the ravine where people leave their unwanted cars and large household appliances. Last time I did that I nearly wound up in the emergency room, so no predictions about that, thank you very much.

While I'm at it, I may as well also thank you for not wishing me luck in this endeavor, because we all know what happens when people do that. Please don't send me any chocolate donuts, either.

But most of all, please don't tell me you love me.

Thank you.