My congratulations to you are that you do not die due to decapitation or the effects of continues unrelenting torture by the enemies of your gods, and that your bodies will not be desecrated by a necrofilic undertaker after your deaths. After the "kicking the prostitute"/"angry feminist onlooker"/"brick" accident damaged my limbic system, that's all the emotion I'm capable of feeling, so be glad. I'm even getting the urge to cry, which is bad since that translates to diarrhea. So, as I cannot say that I wish you many more years, I must say that I would not do anything to hasten your departures. Which I could do very easily, and don't you forget that! Punks!