In a rather excellent mood

Yes, let's discuss this mood I'm in.

I feel like a horse who has eaten his fill, like a porcine beast dripping with swill.

I feel like two crackers slathered with gold, like a pink banana finally accepted by all his friends, who are yellow, and cranky.

I feel like a magician named Chris who has his face on the one dollar bill.

I feel like honey mustard after sweeping The Condiment Awards (the Condies).

I feel like 12 seesaws shipped to Papua New Guinea, where the children appreciate you dammit.

I feel like Lou Reed's own drug dealer.

I feel like Beethoven did, before he went deaf, except I don't have that sort of talent. But hey - at least I'm not deaf.

I feel like a mahogany oven that bursts into flames. Sure ovens shouldn't be made of wood, but hey imagine the glow!

You know that awesome feeling when you discover radium? I feel like that! (NB this item is addressed only to you, Marie Curie).

I feel whiz-bang superdelicious with a coupla wango-wangos thrown in!

Yeah, pass me the space bar, cuz I'm dancing, I got my elbows flarin and I needs my space!