The Conservative Cave
Current Events => The DUmpster => Topic started by: BannedFromDU on December 04, 2014, 06:01:42 PM
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WilliamPitt (57,497 posts)
It's been three weeks since one of my[1] best friends died. And he probably couldn't be happier.
He was my[2] college roommate, my[3] roommate again in Jamaica Plain, and my[4] roommate again in the South End. When I[5] moved to San Francisco with our friend Kevin, I[6] goaded him endlessly until he moved there, too, and man o man, did we have some times. He was one of the most extraordinary people I've[7] ever known, the kind of man who would not only give you the shirt off his back, but if you needed it, he'd peel off the skin beneath that shirt and hand it over with a smile and a kind word. Our friendship lasted, deepened and expanded over a quarter of a century.
Then, three weeks ago, he was gone. Poof, just like that.
And I[8] have been struggling. Hard. I[9] barely made it through his funeral; in retrospect, I[10] think I[11] had a full-blown anxiety attack. I[12] can't be sure, because I've[13] never had one before. But my[14] body literally gave out halfway through the service. I[15] couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't see, my[16] left leg basically crapped out completely in a shuddering display of uselessness whenever I[17] tried to put weight on it, and I[18] shook, and shook, and shook. Five hours later, well after I[19] found my way home, I[20] was still trembling. You were just drunk, asshole.
That was three weeks ago, but it's not over. When it comes, it hits me[21] from blind angles so I[22] never see it coming. It hamstrings me[23], cuts my[24] throat, runs me[25] down, burns me[26] up. I[27] forget, I[28] forget, I[29] forget, and then remember once more that my[30] friend is gone, and I[31] fall to dust all over again.
I[32] am beginning to understand that there is no real recovery from this. There is only time, and the callus that will eventually grow over the wound.
So I[33] sit in this awful silence and wait.
And wait.
http://www.democraticunderground.com/1018696985
I think it is likely that Will is mourning an empty bottle of vodka, not a person.
Anyway, for those of you paying attention: Will referred to himself no fewer than 33 times while providing almost no information about the person he allegedly mourns.
What a dick.
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Anyway, for those of you paying attention: Will referred to himself no fewer than 33 times
Sounds like a speech from the jug-eared Kenyan.
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WilliamPitt (57,497 posts)
It's been three weeks since one of my[1] best friends died.
That was three weeks ago, but it's not over. When it comes, it hits me[21] from blind angles so I[22] never see it coming. It hamstrings me[23], cuts my[24] throat, runs me[25] down, burns me[26] up. I[27] forget, I[28] forget, I[29] forget, and then remember once more that my[30] friend is gone, and I[31] fall to dust all over again.
My God, you are an exemplary emotional cripple... :whatever:
Most of us call that "life", William, and we figure out how to keep on living while you're still rolling in your sick. It's no wonder you're a useless drunk.
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my left leg basically crapped out completely in a shuddering display of uselessness
How incredibly appropriate.
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Hey, Pitt saw my post and was nice enough to PM me his buddy's suicide note:
Dear Will (suicide notes are usually to no one in particular, but you think the whole world is about you, so...),
You leave me no choice. You've made life unbearable. Miserable. You are so self-assured, so cocksure, pompous, self-important, and conceited that
anyone would do this. You refer to yourself endlessly, constantly. I can't take it anymore. In 24 business hours, I will cease to exist.
Go bone yourself, you blowhard prick.
ps - I referred to myself three times above, and referred to you nine times. You're welcome.
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The dead friend is the guy who made Pitt sing, unless he inspired another of his friends to suck off a 12 gauge.
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The dead friend is the guy who made Pitt sing, unless he inspired another of his friends to suck off a 12 gauge.
Will sure is a drama queen when other people die.
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Maybe Pitt's terminal at last.
He's giving a perfect description of severe delirium tremens, brought on by not drinking at the funeral.
It would be sooo cool if the drunken Pitt joined the Dead DUmmy forum before either the Big Guy or the Cleveland ward heeler.
2015 could be a Dead DUmmy bonanza.
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We should have a "Will Pitt Day". On that day, we have a thread where we only talk about ourselves.
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We should have a "Will Pitt Day". On that day, we have a thread where we only talk about ourselves.
I think that's a great idea. I couldn't agree more. I wish I had thought of it.
:tongue:
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I think that's a great idea. I couldn't agree more. I wish I had thought of it.
:tongue:
Speaking for myself, I don't think I could have come up with a better use of my time.
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I think that's a great idea. I couldn't agree more. I wish I had thought of it.
:tongue:
My, my, my.
:ohmy:
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I had a full-blown anxiety attack. I can't be sure, because I've never had one before. But my[14] body literally gave out halfway through the service.
That is not an anxiety attack. Its called being a p*ssy.