I’d like to introduce you to a new voice, ok, an old voice that demands to be heard.  We won’t get into a whole dialog just now, but She’s the Warrior Bitch.  She’s been the addict in the past, and has protected me when I was in deep doo-doo. 

Ok, if am I going to really let her voice out, there can be no censoring.  She swears.  A lot.  In fact, being a Warrior means she does NOT have to apologize for her language.  If you can’t hear what is underneath that, too freaking bad.  (Ok, we’ll use freaking instead of the other f-word.  I suppose we can make that one allotment.)

So this death crap is soo freaking stupid.  We do it as often as we are born and everyone makes such a freaking fuss out of babies.  Dying should be a celebration and sending messages back to the ancients, and putting up monuments to lives that are so many billion who gives a freak anyway.

I’m supposed to sit in sadness, or can’t get adjusted, or what should I look like, or say when someone says something.  He was sick, it was WAY past his pull-date and he was cool and a good parent and he’s gone.  Sounds rude, but MANY of you think that.  I like the word croak better than “passed away” jeez, what a stupid phrase.

ok ok, I’ve got to pull her off the screen as I’m late for my spiritual meeting and she’s going to want to drive the scooter recklessly if we’re late.  You’ll hear much more from her, to be sure.

Me and the Wondrous Warrior Bitch signing off.