If you've lost count this is where we left off.

I'm really tired, and I should really go to bed, and I really should find another word to use in the place of really, because I mean REALLY!
Anyway, the generic Nyquil has really (doh) done a number on me.
I was trying to watch a movie, an Argentinian movie, on HBO, but it was a comedy, sort of, and sort of comedies are kind of hard to keep up with when you're generic Nyquilified, and there are subtitles, but don't get me wrong, I prefer subtitles to dubbing, just not when my powers of concentration are impaired do to the hour and the generic Nyquil, and I was just distracted by Nancy Sinatra Jr singing These Boots Were Made For Walking, and I don't know why I brought that up, it's just that I've been staring blankly at the monitor for about ten minutes and I figured I should type something, and the Nancy Sinatra Jr thing just popped into my mind, because truthfully I just made that part up about being distracted by the Nancy Sinatra Jr song These Boots Are Made For Walking, I actually heard that song this afternoon while in the car on a CD that I burnt for myself of nothing but Nancy Sinatra Jr songs of which These Boots Were Made For Walking was one of, and I could tell you all kinds of stories about the English band that used to play at the enlisted men's club when I was stationed on Crete, the English band with the leggy female back-up singer who actually never sang, but I'll tell you what she did do, what she did do was whenever the English band played These Boots Were Made For Walking, the leggy back-up singer who never actually sang, and the rumor going around is that she was a prostitute, but so what, and anyway whenever the English band played TBAMFW the leggy back-up singer would take center stage, and while wearing a shimmery silver mini dress and knee high boots, she would start doing a series of high leg kicks during the instrumental break in the middle of the song, which would drive most of the young, drunk, and horny enlisted men crazy, and then there was that one time when Duck Farwig, who was very drunk, but when was he not very drunk, but yeah, the very drunk Duck Farwig moved his chair right up to the edge of the stage where he claimed that he got a perfect view of the leggy back-up singers bush, and yeah back then women had bushes because Lady Bics and Brazilian wax jobs hadn't been invented yet, but Duck Farwig might have been full of shit, and beer, and hormones, and damn, prostitute or not, the leggy back-up singer was smoking hot, with her mini-dress, and her boots, and blonde hair, and did I mention her blonde hair earlier, doesn't matter, and I guess that's it, so I think I'm going to take another shot of generic Nyquil and pretend I'm a drunk and horny 19 year old enlisted man, and I wonder whatever happened to Duck Farwig and the leggy back-up singer who never actually sang.