7 April 2005

You know that stupid little thing that girls say? “I wonder who will cry at my funeral?” Nobody will cry at my funeral, if I had it my way. Funerals are a waste people’s time. So great, I’m dead, so everybody interrupt their lives to get all teary about my life. What good does it do? What a waste! If I ever die, and somebody reads this, make sure my parents know that I don’t want a funeral. I just want to be in a pine box under the ground. It doesn’t matter — I’m dead.

So I have to go to the funeral of my great grandmother. Who I think I’ve seen once in my life. Grand. I’ve never met you, but you sure the hell make me go to your funeral. Makes perfect sense.

And, while I look damn good in dress clothes, I have other things to be doing. Tommorrow I swear, I’m smoking four packs of cigarettes and draining the liqour store. I hate funerals. Stupid little compensation for the living that actually just makes people cry more. Great, let’s make everybody more unhappy than they already are.

Pine box for me. Or burn me. Flesh is flesh.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s