no more weekends at bernie's.

well, i'm one fish down. he wasn't dead but he was on his way. poor bernie. the gran massa spooned him out with a pasta spoon - the remainder of my fish will forever fear spaghetti night in east dbq - and flushed him.

this is the reenactment:

i can only hope that bernie didn't face this creepy-ass grin in his last moments. if i'd have had a trumpet, i'd have played taps. poor lil' fishie. :(

but then i had a turkey sandwich and now i'm better. when i get back from where ever i end up going this week, i'll get another fish for my tank. i only have four and i have a serious dislike for even numbers.