[Uh oh. Rimmer is...pished. He's just home from work and he's already four sheets to the wind. Plowed. Plastered. Bolloxed. (He's only had three shots...)]
I'm having a bit of an exshistential crisis, O Network.
You see, I'm dead. Dead as a doornail, dead as Pete Rose's career, dead as a dead thing which just sho happens to be dead. I'm a
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Raven, do you think I'm losing my mind?
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Why?
I mean, I don't really care about why it's bad. What I mean is...well, smeg, if I'm forgetting things randomly, why can't I forget the important stuff?
Like my mum. Take my mum.
...Everybody else has. More than once.
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But it's a big one.
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Is it because you died?
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Smegging hell, if I'd known I'd be in for a lecture I never would have come to visit.
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