Let's Get Funky

Shits ahoy am I in a Funk. Capital F, Funk. Motherfunkers. Literally and figuratively. My last shower, I'm pretty sure was over 48 hours ago. My last coherent, intelligent, happy normal person thought maybe six years ago or so. Time means nothing to me anymore. I've been living off of canned soups and peanut shells. My funkiness has been stewing over a low flame for quite some time until  yesterday when  it culminated on an excrutiatingly bland mid-March Monday, gray with heavy wet snow and needle thin ice pellets. I slept until 2, took a nap, and woke up 10 minutes before I had to leave for work at 3:40. I didn't change, bathe, or brush my teeth. My eyes were crusty and yellow and my teeth, they were mossier than the north side of a tree... (that's a thing, right?) I think I put on fresh underwear at least, but I'm too weak for a smell test. The thing that bothers me most is my hair It's so greasy that it seems I have no more singular, individual strands so much as a giant protein based grease ball atop my head. Anyway this post is sort of an explanation for my lack of fresh material. I think I'm finally on the other side of the Funk Hill, (ew) So if you don't hear from me soon, please pray to Saint Dawn, patron saint of oil covered birds for my recovery.