Your Result: Yeah, your out of your damn mind!
Wow, how have the men in white coats not carried you off to a padded room yet? So is there tin foil in your hat at this very moment? Do the squirrels in your yard tell you what lottery numbers to play? Do you wash your hands every 9.7 minutes to make sure the space bacteria planted by the CIA in the pockets of your jeans doesn't make your face melt off? My money is on yes to at least one of those. Hey but the good news is now your qualified to either run for public office once they let you out of inpatient, or you can make a pretty lucrative living on a street corner in a major city pan handling and screaming at passers by about the impending end of the world at the hands of the Disney corporation, because micky is coming for us all my friends and he wants to make you his B!*%#.
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