The Death of the Internet

There once was a colony
henceforth be known as dead.
This colony had a name
and no one remembers said
name.
This poem is about
the death of all our friends
and the mournful thoughts we had yesterday while eating dinner and parading around, flaunting our goodies
and the fact that
everyone will
soon
really
die.
In like fifty years or more.
From disease or OD on viagra in Josh's case.
No more building in Swarmtopia
No one remembers how.
This poem sucks balls
and the Valilly Inn shut down.
"Oh well," said the mighty Faphand, "guess I'll just go take care of things."
And fap-fap-fap he did
or... whatever girls do, in Haley's case it's slap-slap-slap,
but things went on
zombies still died
and life went on
merrily ever
fucking
after.

I'm pretty sure you'll die from a OD on Viagra before me Sir Fapsalot