Mom called today.
She said that my cousin Mark, who lives in Wyoming, slit his wrists.
He said it was over a girl named Spork or something.
He’s okay, thankfully. She said he’s in the hospital and that his friend keeps visiting him for company. We might go visit, but money’s tight since we’ve been arranging Jenna’s funeral.
But, more importantly, who the hell names their kid after a utensil?