Dead dead dead dead dead

I am PG because I use the word dead. I also used the word hell once, but dead was the overriding factor.

So let's see what's up with dead:

We have tried to teach Kitten to whisper, "I see dead people." It hasn't gone terribly well, and we're not sure what daycare would think, but we think it would be fall-over hilarious.

I mentioned once that I was watching CSI and they were in the person's apartment, which was immaculate, and they found crumbs on the floor and deduced that the murder (dead dead dead) had started there. I looked around and deduced that no one would ever know someone had been killed in my living room, even if it was drenched in blood. (blood blood blood - where does that get me?)

Disco is dead. It's true.

I have a disturbing number of dead pets. Not like, here in the house, I mean historically. This includes countless fish, three gerbils, several dogs, at least three cats, and a duck. That's right, I said duck. Dead duck.

My new appliances are deadly awesome. Is that a stretch?

Oops. Apparently my cell phone is also dead, which I think is cheating for a PG Rating.

The missing pregnant woman is dead. Let's count missing, found-dead pregnant women (that we know of from national media):
1. Lacy Peterson
2. That other dead pregnant woman from the same area Scott Peterson's lawyers tried to tie her murder to.
3. That Hawking chick from Utah they found at the dump - ok, she was only like, 6 weeks pregnant, but she counts.
4. Apparently another pregnant Utah chick was found dead behind a gas station in Raleigh NC last month. Hmmm.
5. Newly-dead pregnant chick, killed in front of her son by her baby-daddy.
And the number 1 cause of death for pregnant women? Murder. Look it up.

I think Freddie is dead. No more Elm Street movies.

Anything else?