Current events have inspired my family to engage in one of those ultra-involved multilateral e-mail "conversations" about living wills and what they want done should one of them end up brain-dead or in a vegetative state. Me, I'm thinking I don't even want to wait for the vegetative state, I'm just gonna ask one of 'em to off me now.
As you may already know, I am a Pet Shop Boys fan -- superfan, actually, maybe the only straight man in North America who can claim to have, in one format or another, every single they've ever put out. And today I find, through TBOGG, that James Lileks -- most boring writer in the history of ever, a man who is to commentary what Pat Boone is to rock music, a man so white he makes Jonah Goldberg look like 50 Cent -- is also a fan. Enough of one to have "Absolutely Fabulous" in his iTunes shuffle, in any case.
Dammit, and this day was going so well. All right, readers, let me hear it -- gunshot wound to the head? Mouthful of Xanax? Leave the car running in a closed garage? What's your recommendation?