Do you ever wonder how you're going to be remembered after you die? Like, are you going to be the person that everyone speaks very kindly of at the funeral, but deep down they're all kind of relieved that you're no longer a burden in their lives? You know what I'm talking about. Where everyone careful selects very non-descript words, but everyone can read between the lines.
"Henry was a free spirit." - Translation: "Henry did whatever the hell he pleased and didn't give a rat's ass about anyone but himself. Good riddance, you selfish prick."
"Brett always lit up the room with his peaceful smile." - Translation: "Brett spent the last decade unaware that he was shitting his pants while we cleaned it up."
"There wasn't a soul who didn't like Tammy. Her electric personality made everybody smile." - Translation: "My sister was a whore."
Ultimately though, does it really matter? You know, since we're all going to die anyways and it's not like you know anything about your ancestors from 300 years ago? I have lots of questions about death, as we all do. It's weird. It's scary. It's unknown. That being said - there's only one thing I know for sure about death. I sure as hell don't want my obituary to read:
"...discovered naked with KY Jelly and a condom next to his body."
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My dad sends a clip of Dennis Leary commentating at a Boston Red Sox game. It's hilarious.
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Alright! A stupid, addictive game for today.... Paper Toss.
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More good news! The Wizard is now available on DVD.
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For the first time ever, I feel a little less bad about having a big butt.
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Pluto. You are the weakest link. Goodbye.
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