I like BJMoose’s epitaph - “Hey, Stupid - you’re standing on my crotch!”
I won’t be needing an epitaph for a long, long, long time, so I haven’t thought of one. And I’d have to put out many autobiographies for the same reason. And then, after a while, most people will likely not live long enough to read every autobiographies that had been released.
However, I do have a title for an autobiography that, while totally spurious, would cause a lot of controversy, and subsequently, get a lot of publicity. 
WARNING!
The following title may (will likely) offend some (many) viewers.
I Like To Put My Penis in the Mouths of Little Children
:eek:
Sorry.
Anyhoo…
Let the flaming begin! :rolleyes:
Seriously, if my previous post is truly inappropriate for the SDMB, then please have it removed. However, I must emphasize that the post was in no way meant to cause trouble or problems. And I don’t really want to get involved in any debates. And I definitely don’t want to step into The Pit, where I’ve never yet ventured (intentionally) and don’t plan to.
Sorry, again. (And anyone who knows me, knows that I rarely apologize for anything I do that I don’t feel truly needs an apology. This is one of those rare occasions.)
Anyhoo…
Autobiography: Diary. It will be a journal, with a lock on it, and inside every page will be blank.
Cremation, here. No tombstone/epitaph.
Title of the Autobiography:
Yes, I Know it Only Needed a Pamphlet, but what the Hell.
And the Epitaph:
Here he lies,
Dead and buried.
Probably because,
He was married.
I think one phrase will do nicely for both:
I Barfed on Mickey Mouse
My crazy aunt fed me full of junk and then took me on Disneyland’s teacup ride. Mickey came up to say ‘hi’ as we got off, and…blech. :smack:
Autobiography: You wouldn’t complain if you were me.
Tombstone epitaph: What? No encore?
Tombstone epitaph: Every day you get closer and closer to me.
Tombstone epitaph: It really doesn’t matter if you eat your vegetables.
Tombstone epitaph: Did anyone get that guy’s license plate number?
Give my feet to the footloose
Careless, fancy free
Give my knees to the needy
Don’t pull that stuff on me
Hand me down my walking cane
It’s a sin to tell a lie
Send my mouth way down south
And kiss my ass goodbye