Me: OMG.
Anonymous Friend: I know. Heath Ledger is dead.
Me: No – dude, I found the apartment he died in.
A. Friend: What?
Me: Utilizing the power of the Internets. See?
A. Friend: WHOA.
Me: It must be right up there. Fifth floor. This is so freaky and sad.
A. Friend: I dare you to call up and ask if there are any apartments available.
Seinfeld didn’t seem funny to me until I moved to New York, either. This kind of whistling past the graveyard only really works in a big mean city.
For reals, though, what a sad thing. The latest seems to be that the pills they found with the body were OTC sleep meds.
Jennie Smash 
And what a bargain at $23,000 a month! I could easily afford it.
I know! Cheap.
BTW, in my head I now call you “Yoy.” For you are me-hee-can these days.
Don’t get me started. Me-hee-cans can’t pronounce my name for shit. And then I have to spell it out in espanol, which is not exactly second nature for me. I think I might just change my name to Margarita.
Link is down. Guess an Olsen or a Spears already moved in.