Oh.

I feel betrayed, Sam. I thought I could trust you. *sniff*

Now that this last concrete area of belief in my life has been
pulled out from under me, I have nothing to support me.

I'm going to go be a monk. But not a shave your head and wear
rope belts and make frangelico- click click click
fatiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing pop! monks. Oh no.

I'm going to be a secret warrior monk. With the special run up
the wall powers, and fly through the air and disappear in a puff
of whatever-it-is-secret-warrior-monks-disappear-into.

And then, and then... well... what then? Maybe with my new
found powers I'll be better able to guess Oscar Nominees and
Winners, cause I suck hosewater at that game. And not the nice
clean cool refreshing drink-it-in-the-summertime hosewater,
either. This is the dirty nasty rancid brown tastes-like-plastic
hosewater that you get when your hose has been sitting around
all winter, and you turn it on for the first time in six months.