#insomniafest

I'd like to propose ZzzQuil change their motto from whatever it currently is to "ZzzQuil: Seriously, you guys, we're not fucking around."

Hey, if you were wondering if a) I am too Muppet-flaily and weak to open the child safety cap on the ZzzQuil and if b) ZzzQuil tastes like someone mashed up some grapes, mixed them with vodka, and then set all that on fire and shoved it down my throat, the answer to both of those questions is YES.

I've always been too susceptible to falling for an idea.

All right. Goodnight, ’Murica, you silver fox you, still flaunting your amber waves of grain after all these years. And goodnight, Tumblr, you lot of sexy beasts. May I not deliriously end up on you at 3 a.m. tonight (unless, y'know, you're into that and you want me to).

I just give up on ever sleeping like a normal person again. At least this time I didn't start sleep Tumbling.

Is there a way for me to shrink myself down and climb behind your ribs to be a part of you and map out the roadways of your heart? Has science figured that out yet? Will they anytime soon? Is the government funding studies for this technology? Because they should be.