orange juice can't cure everything

Ocasionally I get a hungry urge to walk out into a dark field and let out a great, loud, brain-curdling scream. The pressure's building up inside and there isn't a drainage pipe. What an awkward display. I think I will save it for when I am eighty years old, and have no dignity left to lose. Right now I'm supposed to be looking forward to the rest of my bright young life.

It's a sad thing to know that my internal machinery is less sophisticated than the neighbourhood drainage system.