Moose and Ink

Waking up this morning, I had the overwhelming feeling that someone had used my skull as a place to store old tissues and handkerchiefs.  Were I employed in politics, one might have seen this as an advantage (possibly an unfair one) but being as how I do work for a living, it was not and thus, I was forced to stay home.

Being as how they didn’t want to catch whatever foul contagion I had, my co-workers thwarted my attempts to return to work.

Damnit.

How else am I supposed to start an Armageddon that will eventually become named after me?