*Dragging himself out of bed feeling some what a lot more refreshed and stable than he was last night, SmilingAssassin strolls outside to the streets and begins rambling to any man or woman that listens*

It was a long arse day yesterday, jesus, hours, upon hours answering mails, participating in street discussions, dealing with the every day problems of a family, the energy levels were very low.
For hours, I knew I should take a rest bite, a power nap for an hour or so, but I chose not to, instead, I remained on my feet continuing to go about my business.

It really began to show my lack of energy and focus, beginning to talk about things that wern't even in conversation, having one guy mail me asking one simple question and I answered him with a 4 paragraph speech which in the end didn't even answer his question.
It didn't matter how many cup's of coffee I drunk, it was already too late to save myself from myself, like a zombie walking the streets, talking about anything and everything even when it was completely wrong, totally misunderstanding what people were saying and making a complete fool out of myself.

Dating back many years, my bloodline have always been hard, dedicated family workers, but I suppose sometimes, no matter how busy your mail box is, when it's time to rest, it's time to rest, there's no "Just 1 more hour and I'll go to bed", because that 1 hour turns into 3 hours, and that very soon goes onto several hours while your sitting there trying to listen to people, but all you can focus on is trying to stay awake and then to cover the fact, you give an honest answer to the best of your ablity, but in turn, your answer has nothing to do with the topic in hand.

Finally, to top up my evening, a dear friend of mine, JudgeDeath, sent me some very disturbing, yet quite flattering pictures of himself which I am currently selling to the highest bidder, current bids start at $1.00.


*Steps away holding the pictures of his friend tightly in his hands before taking one last peak*

Overhearing the slanderous comments Death drags himself away from his own speech making and pontificating to join his possible ex-friend on one of the street corners of a more run down area of town. You could always rest assured that TSA would come back to what he knew, no matter how much money the man earned. Death half dragged his grotesque zombi-equin with him to do the speaking.

Your problem my friend is the law of diminishing returns. The law is central to production theory, one of the two major divisions of neoclassical microeconomic theory. The law states "that we will get less and less extra output when we add additional doses of an input while holding other inputs fixed. In other words, the marginal product of each unit of input will decline as the amount of that input increases holding all other inputs constant.

You tried to increase your work out put whilst not increase your input of sleep and coffee. Mistakes crept in, you became moody and sullen, and you even forgot to wear your glasses. Those pictures appear to be of your Great Aunt Jemima, the one with the foot fetish. I know we have a similar build, and her wrinkles often look like my necrotised flesh, but my tits aren't that saggy my old friend... which beggars the question... why do you have naked, provocative pictures of your Great Aunt?

*Listens intensely as his friend shows clear signs of a very unhealthy addiction to the dictionary

You should have tried talking to me like this last night, would have well and truly sent me into a relapse.
Have you every considered leaving this side of life and becoming a Doctor? or perhaps a Psychologist? - I didn't intentionally increase the work load, it just kept coming up, except the street discussions I suppose, that was my own fault, but again, as per usual, I blame you because your closest and you did mail me a few times with these kick arse paragraphs that only once you explained it, I understood it, perhaps Dr Death is a more of an appropriate name for you? or a nickname at least.

*laughs at your very poor attempt to disguise yourself as my great Aunt*

As you can clearly see in the picture, the birthmark on the left side of the arse cheek, recognize it?, looks abit like Winston Churchill on crack? - It's your trade mark my friend, we all knows it's you!