A lot of deaths...real and metaphorical

The Sunday before Easter, Mary's mom died. She made it back in time to say goodbye, but it was very very sad. But a guilty pleasure to see my hard-core old-school friends and parents and siblings at the funeral. Does this make me a bad person?

Last Friday, there was that terrible motorcycle accident. Yeah...the woman on the bike? One of my mom's friends, who we've affcectionately dubbed, "The Crazy Women/Ladies." I didn't know her, but she had a daughter at SPN who was a grade behind me. I didn't really know her either, but I remember her.

Last week, Geoff and Plan C became officially over, and Geoff was reincarnated with Plan A. Huzzah! (Well, to the reincarnation bit. He's my baby brother. I worry about him.)

Then, alas and alack, my second-favorite comedian of all time, Mitch Hedberg, died. I'm very distraught over this. I mean, I can't eat a baked potato without chuckling. Or watch an oscilating fan. Or see a broken escalator. (In case you are wondering, 1 is Dane Cook, 2 is Mitch, and 3 is Nick Swardson.) Sadder? His death is overshadowed by the following:

Terry Schiavo died, and this can't really be a bad thing.

The Pope is knock knock knockin' on heaven's door. He may be in there now, I dunno. You know those crazy Vatican peeps. Always playin'. Anyway, this also can't be a bad thing. He's like 800 years old, he's been ill for a while, and...well...a changing of teh guards in the Catholic Church can't hurt. I can't wait until someone from my generation can be Pope. I bet we'll have women priests, and less scandals, and maybe even more tolerance of other faiths and LIFESTYLES. Yeah, I know, keep dreaming. But maybe then, I will resuscitate beign Catholic. I can't in good conscience subscribe to them. That's another death that I pretty much finalized last week I realized that I only stay away from meat on Lenten Fridays and do NOTHING else Churchy, except giggle at Dane Cook's routine, so next Lent, FIRE IN THE GRILL, BAYBEEEE.