FUNERAL
I hope that when I die, I can give a speech at my own funeral.
Thank you all for coming. Believe me, I know that I wasn’t always the perfect person in life. I ate carbs. I made dogs play with cats. In the end, though, I don’t have any regrets, except for the times I made dogs play with cats.
As you know, this was pretty unexpected. I was hoping that my funeral wouldn’t have to happen for another forty years, or forty years and one hour if there was a really good TV show on. However, I should have realized that it was in my genes, since a ton of my family members have died. Death runs in my family.
I just want to let you all know that, even though I’m dead, I’m definitely not gone for good. I wish I could give you a sign that I’m still here. Maybe one of my eyes could be winking from the casket, as if to say, “I am only half dead.” If you ever miss me, you can always reach me by Ouija Board. Leave a message if I don’t answer.
I wasn’t able to write a will before I kicked the bucket, since the first part of me to die was my right hand, but I do have some last wishes. To my little sister, I’d like to leave my collection of irregular coins, like my penny where Abraham Lincoln looks extra sad. To my mother, I’d like to leave my little sister. Take good care of her, mom.
I have to admit, I am a little disappointed with this funeral’s theme. I wish my funeral could have had a cooler theme than “the color black.” Death is just like an opposite-birthday, and I always envisioned for myself an opposite-birthday party. It would be just like a regular birthday party, except everything would be opposite: my guests would wrap presents instead of opening them, they’d drink the cake instead of eating it, and I’d be dead instead of blowing out the candles.
You’re probably wondering where I ended up after death, but I don’t want to give away the twist ending. Don’t worry, though. No matter what, I will always be watching over you, looking down from heaven, up from hell, or sort of northwestern from purgatory. Instead of thinking about death as an ending, let’s think about it as a new travel destination. Which is good, because I was really getting sick of every other travel destination: New Zealand is too new, Old Zealand is too old, and Nicaragua is too alphabetically close to New Zealand.
Thank you all for coming. Believe me, I know that I wasn’t always the perfect person in life. I ate carbs. I made dogs play with cats. In the end, though, I don’t have any regrets, except for the times I made dogs play with cats.
As you know, this was pretty unexpected. I was hoping that my funeral wouldn’t have to happen for another forty years, or forty years and one hour if there was a really good TV show on. However, I should have realized that it was in my genes, since a ton of my family members have died. Death runs in my family.
I just want to let you all know that, even though I’m dead, I’m definitely not gone for good. I wish I could give you a sign that I’m still here. Maybe one of my eyes could be winking from the casket, as if to say, “I am only half dead.” If you ever miss me, you can always reach me by Ouija Board. Leave a message if I don’t answer.
I wasn’t able to write a will before I kicked the bucket, since the first part of me to die was my right hand, but I do have some last wishes. To my little sister, I’d like to leave my collection of irregular coins, like my penny where Abraham Lincoln looks extra sad. To my mother, I’d like to leave my little sister. Take good care of her, mom.
I have to admit, I am a little disappointed with this funeral’s theme. I wish my funeral could have had a cooler theme than “the color black.” Death is just like an opposite-birthday, and I always envisioned for myself an opposite-birthday party. It would be just like a regular birthday party, except everything would be opposite: my guests would wrap presents instead of opening them, they’d drink the cake instead of eating it, and I’d be dead instead of blowing out the candles.
You’re probably wondering where I ended up after death, but I don’t want to give away the twist ending. Don’t worry, though. No matter what, I will always be watching over you, looking down from heaven, up from hell, or sort of northwestern from purgatory. Instead of thinking about death as an ending, let’s think about it as a new travel destination. Which is good, because I was really getting sick of every other travel destination: New Zealand is too new, Old Zealand is too old, and Nicaragua is too alphabetically close to New Zealand.
posted by Megadeth at 9:15 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home