Ripriprip

I hate the phrase "rest in peace."

You lost someone. Someone you were perhaps close to was permanently blinked out of existence. All this, and you wanna end with "rest in peace?" Get real. When I think about saying goodbye, or whatever, I don't ever think of that. What really moves me is thanking them, you know. Something a bit more personal than rest in effing peace. Thanking them for whatever I learned from them, whatever I may have gained from being a part of their life. Maybe a bit more comes from hoping that they too are thanking me. It's a nice thought, especially considering the fact that I'll never really think I did all I could. Hm. Unadulterated gratitude really gets to me.

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The lack of gratitude, however, really grinds my cocksuckers. I obviously just have hangups with the whole emotion. My life as of now is kinda crowded. Two people in the room next door, their demon sapling of an animal, and a person on the couch downstairs.

Ben and Melissa living next door has its ups and downs. Downs mostly include their cat using me as a scratching post when he's bored. Ups include imagining what they do behind closed doors. They say it's just work and video games, but I don't believe them. My guess is that Ben builds rocket ships out of Teddy Grahams while Melissa knife fights with her lesbian sex slaves in a graveyard somewhere.

Bagel kid, he of previous fame, sleeps on my couch. Interesting turn of events, compared to my earlier toastposts. I'm less concerned with his feelings as of late and more concerned with what crotch rot he might be shedding on my furniture. Now, I'll be the first to admit I have the judgment of a garden toilet when it comes to menfolk but Bagel whore puts me to shame. I'll have to be careful when I sit on that couch. Maybe I'll put some home pregnancy tests and pap smear kits next to it just in case.

Hng. I sleepy. I dedicate post to life update later.