return of the dread Scoobification ritual

Since she's been having problems with Narcoholism in her family, I suggested Trish try Narcoholics Numinous, the place I left in abject terror when they tried to have me "work a program" on my "pee-ills". Timothy Leary was very aware of this, before he was outside, looking in. Finally, I used my pee-ills as my Higher Power & quit the Scooby Club, just another addiction in this City of Night.

We showed up about 15 minutes early, found the room. Mostly, the people there were older women who drank tea instead of Scooby Dew. No one seemed to smoke dem regular cigars, which kind of surprised me.

When the meeting's over, before they turned out the light & we peregrinated the short distance to our domicile, people stopped to chat/gossip; we did none of this, perhaps out of my fears of being Scoobified -- among the issues that had broken me up with Jillong, a true Vadisystem.

So we watched a bit of TV, an Encore of Lost in Space, ate some fruit cocktail for our bedtime snack, & retired.

With my reduced dose of Seroquel I managed to get out of bed at 7:00 with the alarm. Hopefully as the substance clears out of my bodanon (it's not a Bo Dannon, it's a Bod Anon) I'll go back to functioning normally. Whatever that is.

Now, to go & get pancakes for my favorita -- & a place in her heart makes Mr. Friendly happy. (She bought me some Viagra for the weekend -- when will I ever get off of Risperdal, so I can get off?)

Today, even more galaxies are controlling fate. Tomorrow, Trish's day off, I may not have as much chance to control the interior mind-machines that make my characters dance like puppets.

It's all right, as long as I can keep them in boxes...