If I were going to commit suicide, I would want it to be creative, hence memorable.
So, I would personally jump off a tall building, with a rifle, into a densely populated portion of the city, trying to shoot as many people as possible before hitting the ground.
Three old men are sitting in rocking chairs at the nursing home, talking about how they’d want to die.
The first man says “I’d want to be in a Porche, driving about 120, then drive into a tree.”
The second man says “I’d like to be flying along in my Leer jet, and hit a mountain. I’d explode in a wonderful fireball.”
The third man doesn’t say anything for awhile, and the other two think he’s nodded off, when he raises his eyebrow and says “I’d like to be shot by a jealous husband.”
An old woman is all alone in the world and decides it’s time to commit suicide. After considering the myriad methods of offing herself she decides that shooting herself would be the quickest and easist way.
She calls her doctor to ask him the best place to inflict the injury after explaining to him that she’s trying to write a book. Somewhat taken aback the doctor says, “Well, for you, it would be directly under your right breast.”
Four hours later an old woman was admitted to the emergency room with a gun shot to her right knee.
My dad had a guy once that tried to saw himself in half with a circular saw. Of course he flinched when the blade bit into his abdomen, and ended up being admitted with a deep abdominal laceration and…
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