Herpes the Harpy

I shut down, and (shut)up, when life twists and turns me like the poor stomach of Santa's Little Helper in the first Simpson's Christmas episode.

Could stem from an eternal fondness for turtles...but it always made sense that my shell could, and would, protect me from outside permeation of the unwelcomed kind.

And with that I retreat to the inner sanctum of...of...self induced trepanation!

*brain*
^
-inserting large gauged needle here-

Damn this infernal thick skulled head of mine!

To the bathtub it is :P