I've been afraid I have a brain aneurysm since last night when I was watching a rerun of the X-files. This guy died on a toilet because this swarm of cockroaches attacked him. Only it turned out that he had a brain aneurysm that burst WHILE a swarm of robotic cockroaches from outer space just happened to be swarming on him while he was on the toilet. Mulder called up Scully and she was like, "Mulder, he died on a toilet? Does he have blah blah blah blah?" Mulder goes and checks, and the guy has whatever symptoms she mentioned. "Yeah." "He had a brain aneurysm, Mulder. They burst all the time when someone's on the toilet and they strain too hard."

Yeah, despite being a huge sci-fi nerd, I've never been a huge fan of the X-files. Sadly, less because of the ridiculous random episodes like robotic cockroaches from outerspace, and more because of the main story arc that you'd have to be a genius to follow. But lately when nothing's been on, I'll watch the occaisional rerun they have on UPN. The other day, they had one with Giovanni Ribisi and Jack Black in before they were famous, and I was like, "Whoa." Anyway, back to my main point: I'm on the toilet ALL THE TIME. I hate to gross you out (no, secretly, I love it) but who strains more than me? I'm gonna die on the toilet now, though sans robotic cockroaches, I just know it. That's the worst way to die. Elvis is the only one who can pull off dying on a toilet and still be cool. I won't be able to. When I die, they'll all remember me as that chick who died on a toilet.

"Remember Phoemeister?"
"Yeah, that chick who died on the toilet?"
"Uh-huh. I thought of her the other day when I was on the toilet."