  PAIN, oh dizzying pain. Right now, Austin would say it best: ?Te duele el estomago? Si, mucho. So now I know that an Orange Dream Machine isn't enough to take me through a mile and three hours of roaming the halls of Los Robles. Nor will a chili dog, pasta and pie (all in a questionable state) keep you feeling somewhat ok. I wish I could cuss it out. Or sleep on it. Anything but this dehabilitating pain. Duck. It hurts so much I'm getting a headache. And I can't think anymore right now. 
