I am insulted Boxer is my senator, too.
* * * * * DAN RATHER FINDS DIARY OF TERRI SCHIAVO * * * * *
Dear Michael: If I pass out, due to my own fault of not being beautiful enough for you, and somehow break my neck, and get assorted other bruises and length oriented fractures in my thighs, and am laying there unconscious, paralyzed, choking on my own vomit, first thing is I want you to call my brother.
Ask him to come over. Then call my Dad and ask him what to do.
Then, while my brain is undergoing oxygen starvation, and since you have CPR training, fall apart like a little baby and panic.
My parents are calling 911 anyway so you won't have to bother making any more phone calls.
Leave me on the floor, face down, choking, no help, from 5am until 6:33 when my brother and the EMT's arrive.
Spend my disability on my hospital bills (you have no choice here) until it runs out. Then, if you cash in on the lawsuit, I want you to take care of me the rest of, well, just until you get tired of me, then melt down the wedding ring, move in with another chick, have several children by her, but don't divorce me until you put me to death by starvation and dehydration.
I want a very painless, slow, and agonizing death when I die.
(above presented as satire. Sick, demented, maybe, but then the truth sometimes is)