Heh Heh. Tweezers.

Hokay,

What if the terrorists attack Columbus tonight? What if I am obliterated by the vile wave of plague that the monsterous men drop on the citizenry like so much Macy's Day confetti? With the burntasming of the eyes and the bleeding of the earsies. That, mon petit pom, would suck. It's okay to die, I suppose, but it is more pleasurable to die with forewarning. I concede that secret translated recordings of Dr. Bin Laden are a form of warning, but I mean I want a doctor's diagnosis.
"Mr. Zoloft, you have six months to live."
"That's Soloff, sir."
"Oh, what did I say?"
"Zoloft, like the anti-depressant."
"Oh! Ah ha! Ah ha ha ha ha!"
"Heh. Heh heh."
"Ha ha ha ha ha!"
"heh heh, yeah."
"Whooo! Hahahahahaa! Oh man, Oh man! Hahahahaha, aw maaan!"

I hope that my city is not destroyed tonight by foul pestilence or filth bomb or the incineratocerous. But if it is, know this: Many of you have touched me in a way that is immeasurable. Through friends and associados I have learned about the world and myself. And I have become more appreciative of that which I've lived through. I am grateful for the times that we've spent, and I wish all of you the happiest futures imaginable.

Oh yeah, but if I don't get blasted into powder tonight then um. Hey... What's up? Can I, like borrow a DVD or somethin'?

Ruh?

Markre