I can’t believe the thread has got this far without mentioning this:
John Prine, Please Don’t Bury Me …
I like his ideas, and would subscribe to his newsletter.
I can’t believe the thread has got this far without mentioning this:
John Prine, Please Don’t Bury Me …
I like his ideas, and would subscribe to his newsletter.
Buried on a hilltop under a massive golden statue of an angel with flames for eyes. When anyone approaches, it should pronounce “You tread on the earth enshrining Jophiel! Come closer and tremble, for if God chose to remove this man from the living, what possible value could your own life hold?”
That is what confused me. Valentine Michael Smith would have made that clear.
But mbh’s answer seems plausible.
At my memorial/wake, I want some mysterious guests- a beautiful crying woman in all black with a veil leaving a single rose, and some international dignitaries/royals showing up in a black limo, just opening the door and standing there.
God forbid people explain what they mean when they throw in an obscure reference to a post they make here.
Especially an unclear obscure reference, and in an OP.
Divorce
Mushroom suit
Also would make a good band name
I have two requests when I die.
I want my remains to be spread over Disneyland.
I don’t want to be cremated.
Just kidding. I like the natural/ composting option.
Xtreme Trebuchet.
I want to be reduced to elementary particles and dissolved into the planet’s water supply so all of Earth’s creatures will benefit from a homeopathic dose of Tibby.
You’re welcome.
The way things are going out west, you might want to wring me out, run me through a water purifier, and drink me.
As far as I’m concerned, the only good way to go is to be converted into a fully ionised plasma in a nanosecond or so; faster than the nervous system can possibly respond. But I guess the only way that would happen is a nuclear bomb or an asteroid strike, which is a bit unfair to people in the vicinity.
So I suppose I’ll eventually have to go through the whole nasty dying process like everyone else.
Don’t care what happens to the remains; I won’t be there.
It was a reference to Valentine Michael Smith. Not a surprise that I’d botch the name, I haven’t actually read that book since sometime in the 80s. (Plus name forgetfulness is an occupational hazard of my recent last job). You should see what I do to Dr. Don Frank…er, Lincoln from the fermilab youtube channel
Tanky tanky tanky tanky BOOM! tanky tanky tanky tanky