Like the rest of my willfully distracted countrymen, I am eagerly following the story of the death of Anna Nicole Smith's son. And, I would imagine like the rest of you, I met today's news that he was on antidepressants without an iota of surprise. I mean, when your life has been spent being dragged behind a laughable, perhaps drug-addled and very possibly retarded mother best known for fucking a very old man and her hatchet-faced creep of a live-in lawyer, what's not to be depressed about. The surprise is that he didn't die of embarrassment years ago.


RIP, obvs.

Analogcabin @ 3:04 PM
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