This Is My Ringo
I love him.
And it's times like these where believing in a higher power might be comforting. But what am I supposed to say? Sorry I didn't believe in you (except I still don't). Sorry for making fun of you all the time (except I still mean it).
But even though now would be a good time to have a diety on my side, I still can't bring myself to believe. It's not in my nature. And besides, whatever punk-ass dieties are out there-- they made this happen or at the very least, allowed it to happen, and for that, I hope they all fucking die.
More clotting. Less bilirubin. Those are Ringo's loafing orders. Because I want my Ringo back.