Gentlemen,
I, too, have been left shaken by our sapient skoliosexual's sudden departure. As the minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks, sleep became an impossibility as various scenarios leading to my friend's untimely demise flashed through my mind with the haunting realism of a motion picture.
A spice-trading venture across the Indian Ocean scuppered by stormy seas? A catastrophic misunderstanding of the UK pound to Thai bhat exchange rate with a livid ladyboy leading to a cruel and nonconsensual plunge in the Chao Phraya river? A post-workout mastication-turned-inhalation of a Morrisons rotisserie chicken leading to a panic-stricken sprint into the midday traffic? One shudders to think.
Alas, a wise man once said that to live without hope is to cease to live, and I shall place the grief-induced catastrophizing to one side and instead await our man's return with a renewed optimism. I'd like to propose that we turn this thread in to a candlelit vigil of sorts. Only instead of candles we post pictures of dime-piece trannies and beefy labias. It's the least we can do.
