I 'm roused from a weird dream about Johnny Yong Bosh ' who was British for some reason? ' trying to get me to fill out a scantron while yelling about the first question and how it was the worst option or something. Then a giant smoked fish tried to eat us both.

'Man at least it wasn 't another bullshit dream about gothic architecture.

Anyway when I come to I 'm the only one in the room, I 'm halfway off the fucking bed, and based on the light I can see through the windows it looks like it 's already early afternoon. I 'm sore as FUCK, and there 's a headache flirting with my spinal chord and threatening to have some very loud intercourse. Or something. I dunno, I hurt too much to make a good metaphor.