An Ode to Dr. David Hayward

Happier days . . .

Dude, you guys. I know, I know, it's been long and I know I've been lazy. But now? NOW? I'm just . . . just so . . . dude, you guys.

Okay. I am so upset over the death of Dr. David Hayward that words can't even express my sorrow. So I wrote a poem.

An Ode to Dr. David Hayward

What shall I do?
Where shall I go?
Without my fave guy
On my fave show

You'd lie and you'd cheat
You'd steal and you'd drug
At the end of the day
All you wanted was love

With your chiseled features
And dashing good looks
There's no one handsomer
You're the tops in my book

I don't read the spoilers
So I might be real dumb
But I never thought
That you'd be the one

To die.

On my soap.

So until his inevitable return from the grave, this blog must go dark. Yeah yeah, I know, I've been slacking anyway but without David Hayward I don't have a reason to live. And I definitely don't have a reason to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. I shall mourn you, Hayward, my precious evil baby stealing doctor, until you rise again.

Or settle your contract negotiations.