I think my auto pilot is broken. I am sure my brain is. I'm sorry I couldn't help you, can't help you, won't help you. I'm just not interested and if I hear one more word about this thing that might happen, might not happen, might happen, will happen this way, will happen that way, definitely isn't going to happen because yonder dude has no monies but wait it really will happen...I shall go completely mad. I'm sick of it. I've spend enough time in the madhouse. There's no macramé here, I thought there would be macramé and craft time, and therapy in groups, and lovely little piles of pills especially for me. You've lied madhouse, mean madhouse, I want my life back madhouse. I never once got electrocuted but my brain is fried.