I was going to go and see a guy sing tonight, but I'm sick from a bar-b-que breast of chicken I ate for lunch. I knew I shouldn't have eaten it, but lately eating curious-smelling food seems to be my asinine way of living dangerously. If it's not a cosmopolitan, it's chicken. Pretty soon, I'll be impossible to contaminate.

I've been sleeping off and on all day and now I'm restless with bad patient syndrome. I'm not restless or energetic enough to hop into the shower, though. Not energized enough to do my hair or face. And I definitely don't have enough Xs and Os in me to brave the club scene. Actually, I'd rather choke on a spoonful of lima beans than to go out feeling and looking like I do now.

Besides, they're bowling upstairs and the horn player has been practicing all day. I've got all the excitement I need right outside my door.

4 Did the Unhingey Jiggy Engage in Unhingenosity
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