Good children,

I'd like to say goodbye to everyone. I will be flying to Europe tomorrow and I feel this will be the last time I see you people alive. Let me explain.

My life blows donkey dick, and I feel that there will be a bad ending to my trip. I have narrowed it down to these four options; you may choose which one has the greatest chance of happening. Email me with your prediction by tomorrow afternoon and I'll see if I can't make your prediction come true. Of course, there will be no gambling on my life. Gambling is illegal outside of Nevada or a reservation. I think.

Option One: My plane goes crashing into the ocean on my journey there, but I do not die. Oh no, I am the lone survivor. While I thank my lucky stars for surviving an airplane crash, I get eaten by sharks.

Option Two: My plane goes crashing into the Eiffel Tower, making me a martyr for generations to come. And a nice stain in France. I don't know which one's better.

Option Three: My sister and I are walking in downtown London and purchase a cup of Starbuck's coffee when the coffeehouse explodes, killing me and wounding hundreds of others. The Hama's will claim the bombing.

Option Four: I enjoy Europe, leave without incident, then, when flying into Fargo, the landing gear goes out. Somehow, everyone survives except me, the lone casualty.

Whatever option plays out, at least I'll know that I went out with potential. I don't want to be 35 and still dicking around, working at gas stations and calling myself a writer/muscian/professional masturbater. So farewell good people, and wish me the best on my way to death.

There is a chance I'll get back alive, and for that, I'm sorry. As my friend Jason said, it would be pretty anticlimactic for me to come back alive since I've been talking about dying since I got tickets. So, anyway, maybe I'll see you guys when I return. If not, shit happens. Boo-yow.