I Take It Back, God Is A Prick

Dear Readers, I fear I am too depressed to even type. Each keystroke feels like a thousand nails piercing my delicate heart. I've lost a part of myself today. Not my penis, thank god, but I rarely get any good use out of that fucker anyways. No, I've lost something far worse and much more devastating. It feels as though God Himself has reached his giant pious hand right into my chest, torn apart my ribcage, removed my heart, taken a bite out of it, thrown it like a grenade with a looping overhand at a puppy refuge, at which point the poor innocent puppies and my fragile sense of being all explode with one demoralizing BANG. Oh lord, I find I no longer have the strength to type. I feel weary. Sad. Alone. Frightened. Oh, am I fearful for the future. How can I possibly be expected to go on? Young Werther ain't got shit on me. Behold, dear readers, I cannot continue like this. Instead, I will merely copy/paste the reason for my current state of despair. Earlier today, I received the following email from my beloved friend, Stevo...


Subject: There's been a death in the family

Quint,

You're my best friend so I wanted to break the news to you first. I'm not good with words so I'll just come out and say it. The Dragon Buffet is gone. It's been boarded up; the windows, the doors, everything. I'm not sure when it happened or why, but it's gone and it's not coming back.

Now we begin the grieving process. Make sure you have a strong support structure in place to help you through. For me personally, I'm relying on the Japanese buffet next to Big Y. If you don't have a favorite buffet in DC, promise me you'll go out and find one. No matter how alone you feel, there are lots of buffets out there willing to support you.

As for the Dragon... the world will little note, nor long remember what we said there, but it can never forget what we ate there.

I love you.

- Steve


At this point, I feel it would be appropriate to recount all of the cherished memories I experienced at the Dragon Buffet, but I'm afraid the pain is simply too much to bear at the moment. Perhaps another time, when the seas of my heart are not burdened with such sorrow...