Hello. If you're like me, you woke up today feeling a little groggy and not especially looking forward to the start of a new week. Maybe you forced your way to the shower, then checked your email and slipped a little whiskey into your coffee in lieu of breakfast. Then as your eyelids closed and you saw yourself doing each of these things all over again, only backwards and on a bicycle, perhaps it occurred to you that life is but a dream.

Consider:

  1. Last week, the open thread was hosted by BrokeinMileEnd. But where is Mile End? Somewhere in Canada. And where is Canada? Somewhere, but no one really knows. How sure are you that there is a Canada?
  2. If there is no Canada, there is no Mile End, one can't be broke in it, and there can't possibly be a BrokeinMileEnd, not in this Kinjasverse or any other -verse.
  3. If BrokeinMileEnd doesn't exist, who hosted the open thread? The obvious answer is no one. There was no open thread!

I know, whoa. If your head is not exploding yet, remembering imaginary events as if they happened in reality is a sure sign that you yourself are imaginary. You, my friends, are just as imaginary as BrokeinMileEnd. Which probably means that I am chained to the psychiatric ward of some hospital in Canada mumbling incoherently about how there is no such place.

On an unrelated note, I have not slept for many hours.