Bury me with my money!
So I’m listening to some Buffett this morning, and I realized that I know exactly what kind of funeral I want to have:
“Last night I said good bye to a dear old friend of mine,
Just a throwback shell beach party, nothing really asinine;
Rum and cooked animals and bullshit by the ton,
That party lasted way too long and I had too much fun.”
(-“Bank of Bad Habits”)
Let it be known that if my funeral is boring or sad, I’m walking out.
I really think that, instead of a ridiculous eulogy or the sounds of crying women, I want every person to tell two stories about me: the one should be a true, personal story; and the other should be a bald-faced lie. No one should tell which is which.
And there should be games, too. Lots of them. Like foot races, archery, and some sort of fire-walking.
And “Last Mango in Paris” should be playing as they lower me into the cold ground.
Of course, sometimes I think cremation wouldn’t suck. After all, at least I’d be warm. But it would be cool to have my skull used in some cult’s rituals. It might be asking for too much, but I think it’d be really cool if they deified it and worshiped it. 🙂
