User:Smilular

Aproximentally until January 1, 3000.

"I sit in my cubicle, here on the motherworld. When I die, they will put my body in a box, and dispose of it in the cold ground. And in all the million ages to come, I will never breathe, or laugh, or twitch again. So won't you run and play with me here among the teeming mass of humanity? The universe has spared us this moment."

- Anonymous