My father had a heart attack. He then went to the hospital, where his liver and kidneys aren't working anymore. I'm overflowing with joy. There was always this lingering doubt that when I actually found out about his death, or his impending death, that some basic instinct would cause grief. Now I know that it doesn't exist! I'm just thrilled; no grief at all. I'm listening to Sam's Town and wondering just how much money is in his bank account, because if either he or his parents have any say, my mother isn't getting a dime, so I'm next of kin. That's $600 into the PS3, plus a couple games is a solid $750, then I'll go on a book spree for another couple hundred, and the rest goes into a college fund. Or, alternatively, I could travel about Europe for a bit. So many decisions, I have to wonder how much he has, plus he has a car that I could sell, and a bunch of other s**t. I'm also thinking I go dance on his grave once I skip his funeral. This is f*****g sweet...
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On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.