Smashaboohoohoo, I have volunteered at the local suicide hotline starting next week to be there for for you, aight? I don't want you all alone in your annual grief-athon thinking about unscrewing the gas line to the stove or pulling the TV in for a bath with you upon the Sux folding like a cheap suit...
...again. I'll be there to talk you down off that ledge.
I was smart this year and plunked $10,000 down on rope futures for the October markets, knowing that there'll be the yearly run on do-it-yourself killing kits next week. I plan to take part in Bush's tax cut too, just like you.
So have you named that Saturday night special "Jeter" yet? Or that bottle of rat poison "Olerud?" I'm guessing that due to your angst due to the post season performance of your beloved little league team playing against the Big Boys, you've gone and named each and every deadly substance in your home.
So take heart, little buddy. There's always next year. Gimme a call at 1-800-UR-DYING if you need a friendly ear to talk to before you say Goodbye, cruel world! Roflmao!
Totem