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March 23, 2005
Consider this my living will
This Terri Schiavo mess has got me thinking. If I ever wind up in a similar, vegetative, no-hope-for-recovery state, I want you to pull the plug. If I am married to a bitchy, wants-me-to-die-for-my-money golddigger, feel free to file lawsuits to keep her from doing so, but not because I want to live as a vegetable, but because I want to spite her. Trusted friends will know whether she is an actual golddigger or not.
Should you decide to pull the plug, I want there to be a huge party. Roll a keg right into the hospital room, and play flipcup on my TV tray. Plug an IV stream full of beer directly into me, so I can be drunk when I die, but I won't really be drunk because I'll be braindead and won't know what's going on. But I bet I'll be able to feel the bass thumping from Fitty's latest hot track.
All my stuff should go to charity, unless you really want something. Then, wheover calls "dibs" first gets it. But I can't imagine why anyone would want any of my junk. You can't call dibs on my money in the bank. Use that to buy said keg of beer - so it's a good one and not some shitty beer, you cheap bastards - and then donate the rest to charity, but not the ones I might disagree with.
When I die, I want you to cremate me and spread my ashes all over the world, except for the state of Indiana, because I don't want to spend the rest of eternity there. Or Vietnam, because I don't think I've ever been to Vietnam.
Whoever wants to take over this website can do that, too. But you had better not lose interest in it after a week, like 95% of bloggers do. You can use it to make fun of me, because I won't be around to defend myself. But that wouldn't be too nice.
So it is said, and let it be said.
Posted by oz115 at March 23, 2005 03:58 PM