Insomniacs have to sleep sometimes

The only things that are keeping my head from slamming into my keyboard are 1) my hands & 2) the 2 x 4 propped under my chin. It's about 330 in the afternoon and all I want to do is say "night-night". Remind me to NEVER take mid-afternoon naps ever AGAIN!!!! I wish that my lack of sleep was directly related to a late night drinking session, but no, it's not. I just want to take a fucking NAP!!!! The 2 x 4 is starting to become slightly uncomfortable and I'm getting a crick in the back of my neck. At this point I'm prepared to ditch the wood and go for something slightly more...shall we say, 'Clockwork Orange-ish'? Yes people, you know what I'm talking about. The one 'ever fixed mark' that will forever be bludgeoned into my memory (besides the gratuitous sex scenes) that till this very day makes my eyelashes curl all on their own...the contraption.
If anyone has access to one of these it will save me the time and energy of looking for those nifty little olive grabbers that go for $30 at Williams-Sonoma, or I suppose I could go the ghe-tto way and just pin my eyelids to my eyebrows with sewing pins. (I am virtually invisible to physical pain...MOST of the time.)

Wait a minute! STOP! Hold the fucking presses! Why the hell does he have a Mona Lisa grin on his face? Place a finger over his eyes and tell me that what remains is not a look of content. GODDAMNIT Stanley, you let something slip by you. I understand that this is a still, and the overall feel for this scene is one of dementia, but this bothers me.

TANGENT! I'm tired, and now I'm bored, I thought that this would help (writing that is), and although I thought it was working it's NOT!

FUCK Williams-Sonoma hand me the pin cushion.