Well, at least it wasn't just me on the hook this time. Nope, my whole freaking family, my closest friends and a few assorted sorta strangers got to take part in the fiasco of body discovery. Reminded me with a twinge of unhappy nostalgia this time about the afternoon Skip Anderson collapsed in my lap at the parade in his honor after pissing off the bulk of Reading's residents with a drunken tirade about how much our home town sucked.
Yup, wasn't alone then, either. Just felt like I was.
Normally, I didn't get upset over dead bodies anymore. Not that it wasn't tragic and heartbreaking and all that stuff that typical people muttered behind their hands when they heard someone died. Sorry to be cynical and all, but this made twelve corpses for me, and I was so over it, I couldn't even.