I mean, really.

Remember how I was unsettled?  And then my rollercoaster cart derailed and exploded?

New analogy:

This ship is sinking directly into a pile of steaming crap so quickly that my ankles are covered in poo.  And trust me, the flies are everywhere. That means that I'm standing a lot closer than I'd like to people who are gingerly lifting their poo-covered feet one at a time and shaking them around in an effort to dislodge smelly chunks from the treads of their boots.  Poop is in the air. 

Trust me, people.  Fighting the poo is useless.  This ship is going down.  Just roll up your pants and try to enjoy the warmth around your toes until hopefully--HOPEFULLY--the Coast Guard sends in a rescue helicopter to lift you out by your armpits. 

Luckily, I have buddies in the Coast Guard, and I can almost hear those chopper blades in the distance.  Watch out.  When I shake these boots off, it's really going to rain.