Is It Legal To Inject Coffee Directly Into Your Bloodstream?

               It's one thirty in the night and I want nothing more in this entire world than to go to sleep right now. And when I wake up, I would like an acoustic piano.

              I remember when I read Marcel Proust for the first time - before I knew that the little Frenchman was the greatest word-smith to ever breathe the perfumed air of Paris. The first passage in his book 'Swann's Way' that really got me was the part where he described how the furniture in his room moved around and rearranged itself as he slept. I like to think that if I just lie down really quietly right now and close my eyes, all the furniture in my bedroom will start silently slipping around the space and squeezing into the various corners. My bed will lift noiselessly into the air and then, with a roll of drums like distant thunder, a perfectly-sized glossy, black acoustic, gleaming with all the soft lights of the night, will glide in and settle itself in its place. The shadows cast by my bed above it will drip slowly down its gentle lines like dark water and music scores will settle over the holder with a soft rustling of paper leaves. At length, Chopin's Nocturnes will emerge softly from the recesses of the baby grand and my dreams will be filled with music.

           How many years do people get for bank robbery? I think I'm becoming desperate. My digital piano has been a good, submissive wife for a few years now, but the strain is beginning to tell. I found a crack in the middle C when I was playing today and it makes an unattractive scratchy noise when I depress it. It makes me catatonically mad when I see people laying waste to peaceful, unsuspecting grand pianos in music videos. Who came up with this abomination? The dudes from the Symbolism and Representation Department of Music Videos were like "How can we show that he really, really likes this girl?"

"How about a shot of him staring out of a car window into the sheeting rain?"

"Yeah, only we've done that, like, a million times. MORE INTENSITY."

"Gosh, well, I don't know. How about we have him destroy a beautiful instrument for absolutely no flipping reason?"

Dear forces of the universe who control Wills and Property, please let a faraway relative for whom I have no particular attachment, who has lived a long and full life and now wants to be taken home to rest with his/her Saviour/cosmic force/dark nothingness, die and leave me an acoustic piano. Plz.

I've still got to do a computer assignment before I can go to bed. AZBOGOROTH, PURIFYING SCOURGE OF THE EARTH WHO WILL PURGE AWAY THE DROSSFUL UNWORTHY, RISE FROM YOUR PLACE OF RESTING AND DEVOUR US ALL.