Maxin the Z's

Last weekend I was visited by at least half of my readers. What can I say then, except "Freedom is on the march"? Talking to my friends of yore rekindled my faith in puddings and my dreams of reptilian flesh. Absinthe flowed, loins ached, and I missed a Detroit playoff game. What more can one ask for in a "car crash of comedy"? Algebra? A taxi driver suggesting oral sex as a cure for a woman's nausea? What? Satisfied by the orgy of social pleasure, I, Professor Sympathetic, Doctor of Passionate discourse, will now settle into a routine of philosophical elucidation. I'm gonna read the shit out of shitload of books. I am going to talk dirty to squirrels and I am going to bench press 10 billion pounds. Dream a little dream of me my friends, for I begin a journey into the underworld of self indulgent existence.
Peace to the streets, and love to the wives,
I thank everyone for the visit.