Thinking, Again

Oh my head. Oh my ass! This is worse than burning a candle at both ends. I am suffering endlessly from all that drinking of cheap wine. I thought I was having fun, then, but can't remember now. I guess it is time to again contemplate the purpose of life and try to figure out my dilemma and my state of dither I call life.

Thus I again assume the position. The thinker position. Sitting on the toilet holding my throbbing head and burning eyes and spitting from my burning ass that stings such that I can't touch it with a powder puff. Is this the punishment for having fun?

The words bounce like lottery balls about to be drawn: ditto, dilemma, dither. Ditto ditto ditto! I keep doing the same thing over and over again! Dilemma dilemma dilemma! Nothing makes sense to me. Dither dither dither! It drives me into a flittering flutter like a moth around a flame, except I keep getting burned. At both ends!