Seems that many people get hyperbolic and say this at some point in their lives. Occured to me today when I saw Sunny Delight on sale at the supermarket that at one point, after watching those obnoxious commercials, I mentioned off-handedly to my friends that if I ever call it “Sunny-D,” they have permission to put me out of my misery.
Anyone else?
That’s it’s name, now
Did you buy it?
For years when I was in my 20s, I told people to shoot me if I ever joined a gym and started getting into exercise. I have now been going to the gym 3-4 times a week for nearly 4 years. It can only be a matter of time before I get bumped off.
Start acting like Mom, or start acting like Grandma. 
I’m sure that on many occasions growing up I said “if I ever become a parent and I say to my kids ‘because I said so’, please shoot me!”
Now I’m a parent, now I get it. I take it back.
Kinda creeps up on you, don’t it? 
If I ever wear light blue polyester and start giving my money to a casino: shoot me.
Actually, if I ever do anything that senior citizens think they should be doing, kill me by whatever means you see fit.
Early bird special? Kill me.
Tissue box on back window ledge of large car? Kill me.
The list goes on…
Along those lines, if I ever refer to McDonald’s as “Mickey-D’s,” you may arrange to have that Big Mac Policeman* haul me away in handcuffs and grind me up for hamburger. (*Do they even have him any more? He looked sort of like Mayor McCheese, but they were two different characters.)
A couple of weeks ago I had a dream in which I was married to my Psycho Ex again. It’s been over three years since the Divorce was final and nearly four since we separated.
I have not seen her face since we appeared in court together nearly four years ago after I had her served with an Order For Protection. I only indirectly saw her, but not her face, twice during the initial phases of the divorce.
They’re the most terrifying nightmares I could possibly imagine. Not because of the fear/dread/terror aspect, but in the HOLY FUCKING SHIT HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!!! sort of way.
So if I ever get back with my ex, even as a friend, KILL ME.
Of course, I had some friends back in those days that I now recognize as total poison. You also have my permission to kill me if I ever associate with those people again.
“Looks like Chimera’s gone over the edge and lost his self-esteem. He’s associating with those people again. Let’s get him!”
If I ever start wearing those Holiday sweaters, the ones with pumpkins and cats…for Halloween, Christmas stuff for Christmas…someone please kill me.
X = grow a combover to conceal a bald spot.
I have those too! They’re the worst. It’s like, “Oh man, all this shit to do over again!” And then I wake up and think, “Yay, I’m divorced!”
X = go back into a certain store that shall not be named.
Wear plaid pants.
Please quickly disptatch me with two bullets to the back of the head if I ever …
… wear a short-sleeve jumpsuit with crumpled beach hat.
… look twice at a pair of sneakers with Velcro fasteners.
… seriously consider a Buick, Oldsmobile or Pontiac. Ever.
… test-drive a white car. Ever.
… order from the Senior Menu for the discount.
If I ever cut my hair into ‘old-lady style’.
~shudder~
This is a variation of the post hoc ergo propter hoc.
Here’s where it get’s complicated. Suppose he told someone else (A) that he is exercising and A replied “exercise will lead to your death”. Then suppose that one of the persons who he told to shoot him (B) does in fact shoot him. Now… Was A right? And did B shoot because he was told to or because, say, B was mad at buns3000 for no reason?
He was oh-so-imaginatively named Big Mac, and was phased out during the “streamlining” of the McDonaldland gang in the 1980’s.
Sunrazor: Although Buick and Pontiac are still producing cars, enough people shared your opinion of Oldsmobile that General Motors discontinued that division in 2004. Of course, the streets and car lots are still full of Cutlasses, Bravadas, and the like.
Marry, or even cohabitate romantically again.