Jesus, I'm wondering now if Velociman's Artillery Punch wasn't subtly affecting us all, threatening all who drank it with slow madness. Can anyone explain to me what the hell is going in this video?

Excerpt:

Straight White Guy: So, how would you jerk off a marmocet?
Dax Montana (in Red Pimp-hat with purple feather): I don't know, I'm not the person who had that job...

The Wreckyll is over now. I'm not going to be able to write about it until tomorrow, I figure, when the liver-swelling goes down to an acceptable bulge under my sternum. I've got tons of pictures, and more than a couple of videos that will have to be filed under 'incriminating evidence'.

Eric is a wild-man, as everyone knows, but Sam, 'Hollow-leg' Zonker, Jim, and Christina more than held their own. You guys are maniacs, and I've got pics to prove it. Don't forget, videos were enough to get Terry Schiavo's plug pulled; there's no telling what they're going to do to y'all once these get out.

Pictures will definitely be forthcoming.

The ring finger and pinky of both hands. My tongue when I wake up, most mornings. The tops of my feet, if I happen to be lying on my back. My left elbow. Along my left calf, where the hair has fallen out. The palms of my hands. A four-inch vertical strip on the left side of my forehead, running up under my hair, where there's a scar from an old war-wound. I'm going numb, one piece at a time.

Eventually, over years, the numbness will work its way inward, making my arms heavy and difficult to steer with, easing the pain of the shoulders, both of which I've separated doing various stupid things, and the hip, which I broke in college, and the muscles of my lower back, which always seem sore, ever since I broke thirty.

Once the numbness makes it to my heart, I guess that will be that.

Well, outside the tornado sirens are going crazy, there's a grey eerie sunlight, and the cat's hiding behind the sofa. If you don't hear back from me, I'll say hi to the Wizard for you.

The world, without the moral guidance that only a Pope can bring, refused stubbornly once again this afternoon to spin out of its orbit and into a black hole of anal sex-play and contraception. The will of the West seems to be made of sturdier stuff.

At any rate, it's time to play plant the Pope. I wonder if the Catholics will go nuts and knock him out of his coffin and tear off parts of his body to keep as relics. Nah, only a bunch of complete nutjobs would pull that kind of stunt.