Filthily depraved uptempo conundrum

You know that you have been listening to too much music when you find yourself pondering which song, out of a two-way choice between Sex Dwarf by Soft Cell (“luring disco dollies to a life of vice”) or Sex Beat by The Gun Club (“we can fuck forever but you will never get my soul”), would provide the most suitable accompaniment to the depraved act itself.

Then, of course, once you find yourself wondering along such lines, there are all the supplementary questions about pace and tempo, not to mention the preferred musical tastes of your partner. Sleazy American punk or perverted electronic dance music? Oh, you decide, darling. I’ve suddenly got one of my headaches coming on.

Sometimes I think too much. Worryingly so.

We regret to inform you that Dr Freud will not be undertaking any consultations this afternoon. Besides, he doesn’t see the point in this particular case, since the patient is displaying a definite lack of subconscious suggestion that is contrasting wildly with other psychological preoccupations that are almost disturbingly self-evident. Nurse, the screens.

I blame caffeinated overindulgence for everything. Absolutely everything. Obviously. Maybe I should abstain for a day or two. From the coffee, I mean; nothing else. No, definitely nothing else.