A small rural town in the middle of somewhere. Never promoted, but a beautiful secret.
I’d like to have some kind of inventively cruel method of torture named after me. Something really baroque and monstrous, like being forced to watch one’s most hated enemy live a long and happy life.
Then…television? 
I hope that people remember me as “not boring.” Maybe that Dopers will ask, “What ever happened to that daft codger, AskNott? I miss him.” :dubious:
Well, if you’re going to go by just my user name then I guess it would have to be a strip club.
There’s already a space telescope with my IRL name… ok so I don’t think they were thinking of me, but I still like to think the Chandra telescope is my telescope.
Right off the top, either-
A) Remembered for something that I built, invented, or wrote.
or
B) Something involving my astonishingly well-preserved body becoming a prime attraction at a major museum in the far future. I’d be remembered (kind of), help serve science, and get the chance to scare little kids for eternity.
Though it’d be kind of nice to found or popularize a philosophy, and be remembered for that. Especially if it was popular, and actually made some kind of difference in the world. ("Ranchothism! The worldview that brought down Abrahamic religion and western liberalism, changing the face of human civilization!")
But, realistically, I’ll probably be lucky if I’m remembered for some gimmick that gives people a quick laugh. (“Ranchoth? Oh, wasn’t he the guy who got eaten by Shamu on live TV?”) Well, it’d be better than nothing.
Oddly, with no humor involved, I don’t really want to be remembered at all.
For things that I did, not things that I said.
My mouth has gotten me into trouble my entire life, child and adult.
Some of my actions have been decent or honorable. Helpful or selfless.
I guess I’d want to be remembered as someone who helped out others in their darkest hours.
On a lighter note, I adore fried calamari. Perhaps someone could invent a dish called Cartooniverse Calimari?
Rename the planet after me.
All the people of Zebra will call themselves Zebrains.
Either that, or a memorial novelty condom dispenser in some semi-decent bar named in my honor with a small plaque.
That’s pretty cool, but I’ll settle for a simple tombstone
“He Could Hold His Liquor. Sometimes.”
Remember me fondly,
Remember me well,
Name for me the penthouse* suite in a seedy hotel.
Or the Hustler suite, or the Playboy suite, or…
I want my name to be used as a nickname for Marion Davis’ clitoris.