Much like a root canal. Or paper cut on the tip of a finger. Well, rocky as this may be, it will never beat Mr. Rocky, who will sucessfully knock this article down; "I pity the foo!". It seems that the rocky, black granite that juts up from the shoreline of my conciousness will not cease to exist, even though I may pass thought, but by my words, my rules that I have predisposed, I have seen and given life to the lifeless slimy slabs of black, great ominous rock. I hope you like this. ...