My funeral
Okay, Scrivs posted an article on Oreo CEO called “Your Funeral” and of course, it spurred me to write an article on what MY funeral would be like and all the details. No one really knows how they will die but I have a couple of theories - and I am going to tell you the most feasible and entertaining one. I KNOW for a fact that few people in this world respect/like me. I have an acidic personality and I have a hard time finding friends, as well as keeping friends. And not only that, but I have a completely hateful family (at least, hateful toward me).
When I die, I would bet that no one would feel sorry. And that would include my family. Everyone I know knows that I am currently living in a whacked out plan that makes it seem as if I have no idea what I am doing. That’s partially because most of the time, I am not sure of what I am doing. But things seem to have come to me, such as that job with Neko Bat. But when you are flying from the seat of your pants, nothing is more reassuring than a Plan B.
I fuck people over when I feel it is absolutely necessary for the common good. This could range from getting money to survive in Canada to solving my ultimate, diabolical scheme. And that is something that everyone will fear love. In fact, my own death might involve screwing someone over. Let’s face it, I am a descendant of con artists, liars and thieves. My father and mother were con artists and liars and I suppose that it could be traced throughout my family tree.
Who is going to carry my casket? Hell if I know! Most of the people that gravitated around me back in the States have criminal records and may have a bit of a hard time getting into Canada (assuming I die and have my funeral here). Come to think of it, why should I even have a casket. I would bet that I would be buried right under the Roundup Centre or the big “O” and dug up once a winner has been found in Dilapadome. Or maybe I would be placed in the walls of the Parliament Building in Ottawa.
Tags: That Other Life
February 11th, 2007 at 4:44 am
[...] if I should go to my high school reunion once it rolls around. I mean, it’s inevitable, like death, pain and taxes. High school was very much like my childhood. A painful time of confusion and doubt [...]