Touch me. Touch me like you didn't touch me last night.

Tonight's Fuckbrain observation

My OCD compels me to, whenever I see toilet paper with the last sheet having been torn improperly--i.e. not along the dotted line--tear off the fragment to make it right, even if it means being freaked out for a second because I'm messing with toilet paper that somebody has touched in a public restroom.

Then I use my Germ-X and wonder what the shit is wrong with me. Then I remember what the shit is wrong with me, then I forget what I was thinking about and do something stupid, like make and eat a sandwich made of tuna, baked beans, mustard, and hot sauce.

ALSO: The answers to my Things I Can't Draw: Movie Edition, from top left to right, middle left to right, bottom left to right are:

BEING THERE
The LONE WOLF AND CUB series (aka BABY CART AT THE RIVER STYX)
I'VE HEARD THE MERMAIDS SINGING
THE PRINCESS BRIDE
L.A. STORY
SCANNERS
THE KILLER
ONE-ARMED SWORDSMAN (also acceptable: NEW ONE-ARMED SWORDSMAN)

EDIT: I just read that they're not making Valentina hot sauce anymore. FUCK! That's the tastiest shit there is, especially the Very Hot one, cause it doesn't just burns, it burns deliciously. I don't believe it, since that's what was on every damned table in Oaxaca, a fact which made me feel good about my own personal hot sauce choices.

EDIT EDIT: Oh fuck I'm gonna die.