Personal observations and rants simmered in satire, basted in truth and served on a bed of blanched cynicism. If we can't make fun of ourselves, just who can we make fun of? That's a rhetorical question of course, stated to test your qualifications before reading this book.

This is the story about one piece of my life. It is a very small but important piece. It is not just about suicide; the act itself can be described in just a page or two; but rather the events immediately after my attempt to end my life. I by no means intend to glamorize suicide; in fact I am quite remorseful and embarrassed by what happened. At no point in the 48 years prior to this event did I ever even imagine I would find myself behind the wheel of a car breathing exhaust gas and wishi...