PONYVILLE- Apple Strudely a mare, who was known for her eccentric attitude and wild agendas, suffered an overdose and died. She was 19. The 19-year-old Ponyville mare was found lying in bed after taking a number of Prozac. She was discovered on her bedroom by her boyfriend Soarin’, 24, yesterday morning. Despite the efforts of paramedics, Apple Strudely was announced dead. Fluoxetine, otherwise known as Prozac, is used to treat depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, some eating disorders, and panic attacks, but a high dose can cause hallucinations and coma. Detective Sergeant, Sergeant Detective who investigated the death, could not say, “when or how many were taken prior to her death.” They were used in suicides, he added. The mare went to see her doctor in mid January to discuss concerns about her manic depression. Thunder Warning, the Ponyville Coroner, recorded a narrative verdict that she died from a self-administered overdose of purchased medication and not suicide. Ms. Strudely will surely be missed by both, family and friends.
What would you do if somepony was trying to kill you?
AnonymousUm I probably wouldn’t care. I don’t know.
yes, yes you can (•ヮ•) *gives Apple jelly* just so you know.... its.... a flavor i forgot
Um okay, whatever, I just want jelly. *eats said jelly*
was just thinking….
we treat derpy like our own “wheres waldo”.. but what if she is not..
what if she.. is more like carmen sandiego. international muffin theif by night and mailmare by day?
and we will never catch her if we dont reconize that.
((She needs to be stopped.))
Got strudels? I'll buy 'em all.
AnonymousI don’t have strudels. Why would I have strudels? Is it because of my name? That’s some kind of ist, you know. I think it’s ageist. Or maybe nameist. You’re such a nameist anon!
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Dame Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor aka Elizabeth Taylor | February 27, 1932 – March 23, 2011
I have often have wondered what kind of a person I would be today if I did not have these enormous guilts — if everything had gone easily and I had not made such horrific mistakes. I think I would have been the most awful, pontifical goody two shoes. I was really so smug, so sweet, so good, so spoiled — so intolerant of anybody else’s downfall. But tragedy, mistakes, and shame for your mistakes cannot leave you untouched. All the superficial things that one gave so much value to before — money, luxury, indulging in whims — calamity makes them seem so incidental. I swear to God I’d be just as happy living with Richard and the kids in a shack. And I treat the happiness I have now with great respect, great appreciation, because I know how fragile and precarious it is — how easily it can go.HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELIZABETH!
