Conan O’Brien, who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side. Conan O’Brien, headed for the Pacific. Those of us who knew him best talk about him often. I swear the stuff he pulled....sometimes it makes me sad, though, Conan being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright and when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice, but still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.