it is just possible i was, er, not sober…?

Courtesy of a recent dental visit, and Melbourne's current baking climate (and my non-possession of an airconditioner or windows that open), I'm afraid my brain has melted. Or at least, something is dribbling out my ears. Could be some other body organ that has liquefied and risen to the top, I suppose.

So, in lieu of content, I present to you text messages I have sent:1

i shall regret nothing! we shall fight them on the beaches!
 there is no cheese! moar wine will solve this existential...