conventional fuckentional, i'll die the way i want to and none of you well wishing relatives and ass kissing past lovers have one thing to say about it- all clustered about my dying bed, tapping your ill shod pointy feet in quick successions, shuffling about in your leisure suits- well i can hear the plastic you have taped to your giant expanding midriffs- i know you are waiting for the nurse to shuffle out so you can wrestle me down into my cheap polyester pillow and muzzle me with that saran wrap murder weapon until my eyes bulge out like some poor freak overdosed on thyroid medicine. what you don't know is that i have my crafty ways and am armed with a length of enema tube and will strangle you just that fast, hold you down nice and close so i can feel the air escape from your whining petulant mouth until the usual ubiquitous platitudes cease once and for all.