The Ind e-Pen
+++vol+1+++BT+47+++
Introduction
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I remember this one time they made me write my epitaph (that thing on your tombstone). I don’t remember what I wrote anymore, but I remember it was something great. Like “Ergo ‘er lies Carlos Mariscal, known to some as Pixel Qyw Styx, to others as Eli Whitney Carver, oft called Mr. C, Chuck, Chuch, Charly, Charlie, Pixie (sigh), Pixi Stix, Pixelated, Lion King, and one Saturday as Miss Katrina Blowhard… wait. On second thought, maybe he lies over there. Look over there.”
A Suicide note as dictated to Gabe
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Dear Everyone I Left Behind (the kids),
A lot of you are probably wondering why I did this. Thinking “But he seemed so put together,” “I would have never expected it from him,” and “he was the only one who knew how to make the antidote!”
Well, quite frankly it’s none of your business… unless you happen to be my business partner, in which case, sorry about that antidote thing.
Now, if you would please leave the room… yes. Okay. Psst! Everyone else? I’m not really sorry.
Wow. I’m surprised I got that to work in a letter. Usually you need at LEAST a tape for that. Okay, now let him back in.
I have nothing to tell the people I’m leaving behind about my state of mind. I’m actually quite happy. For instance, just today, two beautiful, nearly-nude women came and fed me grapes in my gold & silk bean bag chair.
Similarly, I have no warm fuzzy thoughts to console anyone. I mean, would You after the gold & silk treatment? I thought not.
Life is Still worth living, and I have plenty of reasons to stay alive, I just won’t. I’m a bitch like that. Meh.
By the way, this method wasn’t my first choice. I really just wanted to let several large Bavarian women pleasure me to death.
Eh. You take what you get. By the way, my last wish is for someone to start a Large Bavarian Women suicide hotline. That would be cool.
Laters,
-C
suicide note (c) 2004, any reproductions require written implied consent of the author.
A Suicide note as dictated to Everyone else
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Went out the Window. See you soon.
A Small Quiz:
Butt wins. Woo-hoo.This Week:
1: What do You want on your tombstone?
2: What crazy-ass nicknames do you have?
3: Write a small suicide note for us, please. We need the evidence.
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1. My tombstone shall ramble as I do while descirbing little highlights of my life as of now and the future…hmm but what exactly? Eh…my name, when I was born and when I died. And something to the degree of “You’re really going to miss her.” Tear jerking I know.
2. Crazy-ass nicknames? Hmm. I’ve been called various names such as Jess,TAi, British Girl, Dog, Stalker, Chester the Molester, Messy Jessie, Jessie Pooh (PLEASE! Never call me that), (I wonder why no one has thought to call me) Jester, Tieface, Tai stick, Twisty Tai, TaiSoup
3. Crap, I’ve been caught… YOU CAN’T PIN IT ON ME! I’LL NEVER SPEAK! or Bush was re-elected. This is what you get. I told you he was evil. He made me comit suicide.
Carlos,
This Week:
1: pepperoni lol
2: gorzo, gorgonzola, bitchtits
3: i’m too lazy. writing that may lead to actual suicide.
love,
butt
xoxoxoxoxox
Bitchtits,
— Matthew James Gorzalski wrote:
> 3: i’m too lazy. writing that may lead to actual
> suicide.
All the more reason to write it. C’mon. For humanity?
Love… err… platonically,
Carlos
Boooo Gorzo. You suck
T-Rob…. the official nickname, offically gained, universally accepted. Eat that. Ass
Carlos,
Why is the world calling for my death?
Love,
Butt