In the course of 1 morning, my death has been prognosticated no fewer than 4 times. Well, I say enought with the flirtation. Everyone has to go some time.
I am very tired of sensationalism. In case you didn't know, we all teeter on the verge of disaster. Our houses will fall apart; our bodies are decaying; terrorists leer around every corner waiting to destroy us all. If you stay home, your roof will fall in and kill you (which will help you financially since insurance companies won't cover acts of God). If you go out, millions of tiny murderers will invade your respiratory tract and strangle you to death. There is nothing you can do to stop it.
On that cheery note, I declare a rebellion against the media. No more news for me! I choose the ignorance of the pre-germ theory era. When I die, I will blame it on my unwillingness to sacrifice a virgin in the tar pits of Los Angeles. All hail the new reign of superstition! Life was better before it was so damn predictable.
2 comments:
Hurrah!
You've got gusto girl!
If gusto means 'willing to create a religion based on the sun' then I guess that's what I'd call it =)
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