Dum Dum Da-Dum-Dum

I'm crawling belly-down through the Cambodian jungle humming the bass-line of White Rabbit over and over again, like some kind of mantra, twelve hours into my first tab of acid; the other one wrapped in a plastic baggie, which is in turn wrapped in a small plastic container, which is in turn tied around my neck with a leather thong that is otherwise decorated with six or seven dessicated human ears (which look a lot like dried apricots, for you completists), shirtless, slathered with a combination of pig lard and camo paint, a knife in my teeth and a beat-up AK-47 slung across my back, all while painting this picture.
  

Don't even ask about the rifle.