NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nathan's gone!

My pocketgay has packed his tiny knapsack and had his show cancelled. I'm too verklempt to speak. I'll miss that elfin smile, that Munchkin-like charm; his rosy pinchable cheeks; that faux hawk.

I miss my Nate.

And it reminds of something I used to say: if Mama Cass and Karen Carpenter had only split a sandwich they'd both be alive today.

So, I'll simply say, if only Nathan had built a desk and bought an entertainment center, that whiny pasty puffy screaming crybaby queen Jason might have gone home instead.

Am I bitter?

Yes. I. Am.