Yay food network

So Brian tells me to write, which adds another person to the list of people who have told me to write (mentioned earlier, therapist et al), but rather than focus on the words or message or prettiness I should just pull out a stream of consciousness thing here. But what do I say... there's too much and too little to say. It's not quite real yet, and it won't be until I see him, actually see him in the suit he wore to my brother's wedding, see him lying motionless and still never to take another breath, see him in the casket my brother and I spent a half hour choosing versus the "chancellor" or "embry cherry" or "ambassador" except maybe I think this casket is the "ambassador" one of "solid African mahogany" which explains why it costs as much as all of my life savings. I guess I'm only 22 so it makes sense that I don't have too many savings. The casket is "ambassador"... there's an obvious and sick ironic statement I could make here; I could also avoid that very modern-American-writing thing and just say something literally rather than ironically.

I could also avoid all of this and continue watching "24 Hour Restaurant".