You know you are truly batshit insane when...
You wake up shaking from a nightmare in which you've spent all your worldly wealth by buying over $7,000.00 worth of Peeps. Yes, Peeps. I'm pretty sure nobody's ever bought $7,000.00 worth of Peeps, total, in their entire life. Except possibly advanced scientific labs (perhaps the dream was a very indirect form of dissertation anxiety!!). I rather doubt that even the worst, and richest, stoner has ever bought more than a hundred bucks worth of Peeps at a go. I kind of wonder if whoever makes Peeps (possibly Consolidated Edison, out of the remains of nuclear reactor fuel) has ever even sold, total, $7,000.00 worth of Peeps. If one is sensible and buys in bulk, $7,000.00 can buy one 38,181 Peeps, which seems rather more than ample for any concievable non-military purpose.
Incidentally, I have not consumed any Peeps for more than a year (probably), nor have I attended any Peep-related events.
You ALSO know you're insane, if you wake up from such a nightmare and have the following thoughts, in order:
1. I must be insane.
2. What would Freud make of that? Or Jung?
3. I have got to blog this.
4. Oh god, I need a cup of coffee. (Start giggling)... "can't sleep, peeps will eat me..." "in Soviet Russia, peeps eat you..." "does this make me a peeper?"
The peeps clearly must die. Fortunately, the good people of the Internet have been fighting this battle for me:
Special L&L exclusive, because Belle has not introduced me to TD.