OH YEAH????
Here in my estate, we have midget nude horseback jousting competitions in mile-wide vats of fermented yak urine-infused spinner dolphin puree, with additional barnacle chili con carne sauce. When we're done with that, we swim naked in the blood of extraterrestrial giraffes. When that gets dull (or palls, YMMV), my buddies and I head to the nearest ants' nest and smear our nether regions with tapioca (we check for the scarcety of ants first, obviously). Sometimes, even the most ethereal of experiences get a bit too same-ish, and then it's time to duct tape the frozen aardvarks to your buttocks and head for the high seas. A bit cliched, I know, but if you sew some sequins onto the aardvarks' noses, then all's good. After that, needless to say, it's time for a bit of round-the-world duvet rafting, with additional cafe au lait (or creme brule (which rhymes!)) and bafflement all round after tea, biscuits, cheese and port. Brandy to follow, naturally.
It's the intellectual equivalent to colonic irrigation.
With a broom.
