Listening to people who have no idea how to play guitar play a guitar is bad. Listening to them whine afterwards about the guitar not being in tune is bad hilarious.

My brain is dominated by near schizophrenic tendencies, traversing vast stretches of my memory to create one giant lump of biodegradable and slightly radioactive wallaby dung.

Surely, such inane mental banter needn't exist at all, yet for some strange reason, perhaps due to my neurons not firing correctly of late, I can't seem to make up my mind as to whether or not I'm happy, or utterly depressed.

Damnations.