My son, Ezra Phoenix Chatterton, Ephoenix the Hunter, Squirlanator the Mage, is gone. All we have left in this world are memories of him. Please remember that he was a good person, smart and clever but also very kind, that he loved to play World of Warcraft, that he loved rice pudding and fettucine alfredo, and that he went through so much pain and still found ways to smile all the way to the end. Please remember too the kindness of Blizzard, and the overwhelming love of the WoW community. Without these gifts, Ezra would still have found a way to be happy and optimistic, just not as easily.
When I was a young punk I dyed my hair, sneered at everyone, and thought “Kill your parents” was an arch joke. Now my generation dyes their hair (to hide the grey), sneers at the camera, and exhorts you to let your parents die for their stock options. We have
you are the perfect draw the perfect draw the perfect draw
As entertainment a while back, I used to tell the story of World War One. It was great fun at parties. I’d get rolling during work lunches at bougie little lunch places, and half of the establishment would be staring balefully at our table around the time I cut