I am well aware how morbid this is, but the truth is there is a very good chance I will eventually kick the bucket (although a chance I won’t… I’m not ruling out the scientific advances we have to look forward to), and in light of that realization it seems only fair that everyone have no doubts about what to do when that happens.
So here are my rules for what to do if I die young, or old… hopefully old.
1. No viewing of the body. By anyone I’ve ever known. At all. Ever. Have you ever seen a dead body that looked good? No, you haven’t. Dead bodies always look terrible and the last thing I want is everyone’s final memory of me looking like shit.
2. I don’t care what you do with my body as long as it doesn’t violate #1. Donate it to science, cremate me, throw me in a lake, leave me at the morgue and never claim me so I’m the city’s problem. I’m dead… which means I’m guessing I’ll have more important things to deal with.
3. No sad funerals, I want a fun Irish wake. I want a band, I want a variety of awesome food (at least one of which involves wing sauce), and freely flowing whiskey and margaritas… preferably from a whiskey or margarita fountain. I want drunk family members slurring speeches about how awesome I was and pouring shots out on the ground in my honor (I know I’m mixing Mexican with the Irish now but I don’t care, it’s my FUNeral and I can do what I want).
4. Somebody needs to pick out the drunken slurring mourners who can publically tell the following true stories,
- That time in college when I was a nude model for the chest portion of a statue the sculpture class was making, specifically how they chose me because they unanimously agreed I had the best rack on campus.
- How I speak the most fluent pig latin of anyone.
- How I once ate hot wings every single day for 10 whole months (it was when I was pregnant with Finn).
- My epic alcohol tolerance.
- How I had a habit of acquiring unloveable pets… this story should be told with the angle of “she was such a saint” instead of “she was completely insane”, despite the latter probably holding more truth.
- The hilarious lies and alter-egos I would make up for strangers when I had a few too many drinks.
Did I miss anything? Anybody got more ideas for death related plans I should be making known?