carbon_monoxide florescent light The means by which I want to die. The ultimate death of perfection. The inhalation of what tastes like air until one grows sleepy so sleepy that they pass out. And often die. Painless. You are suffacating without awareness. Ironic. 010321 ... dB Yeah, oh thhe irony. It looks like air, tastes like air, smells like air, but man it ain't air. 010322 what's it to you? who go blather from