Under anesthetic, subdivided and synthetic

You're all my best friends. You all, and the girl with the cello, and the Esteemed Colleague from Elsewhere, you're all my guys, you know that, right? Cause know that. It's true. You're my team. If things get freaky again, I need you all on my side to dig me out. Don't let me die in an unholy place. And protect yourselves. You're the best. Take care of all of you all, even the ones you don't know; they're worth it, promise you.

I'm always there. Always gonna be there.

(Edit: I don't remember making this post. But it's still true.)

Terry Pratchett has early-onset Alzheimer's.

I question the way this universe is supposed to work.