I just found a note I scribbled on a scrap piece of paper that says-
Prognosis:
Humped . . . to death.
Something tells me this probably has to do with a conversation Becky, Alex and I were having about Becky's rabbit, but I sorta wish it had more to do with how we thought my death would be explained at a sexy 107 years old.
Or at least someone we know's death.
2 comments:
Isn't this how we'd all like to go? I think we'd fear death much less if that were the case.
Don't want to be too much of a geek, oh who am I kidding - isn't that how Mulder (of X Files) was supposed to die?
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