Dear Scott Baio,
You Owe Me $28,412 In Alimony And Emotional Damages,
One Bottle Of Tylenol, And An Umbrella. Thanks.

1. I have decided to devote my life to the study of water resistance and humans.
2. I want to change my name to Peppermint. Or Lima.


Or maybe I just want to build a fall-out shelter out of lima beans and peppermints because that's what the dead people I see walking around are telling me to do. Sure, they're not really dead, and they're not really walking. But that's only because they're not really there.


And what did we learn today?


If you have a headache and you find a mysterious white pill in the bottom of a drawer in your bathroom and you're hoping it is some sort of pain reliever/fever reducer/brain tumor growth stopper and hoping it is not some sort of elephant laxative/radioactive isotope that will make your internal organs glow in the dark (and with out the aid of your glow in the dark panties!)/fetal pig growth hormone, forget about it. Hope is not your friend. Hope is the name of a soap opera character. It is most likely Special K or X or some other drug that goes by a letter of the alphabet (this is how I plan on teaching my future two-headed children the alphabet, by the way. That stupid 'ABC' song is so yesterday), and once the hallucinations of dead people and delusions that you are Scott Baio's ex-wife stop you will find yourself alone, watching Charles In Charge, battling a debilitating drug addiction.
So yeah. Don't end up like me Don't eat the little white unmarked pill. And that concludes today's lesson.