Notes on my death:
When I die, please do not:
1. Talk about how wonderful I was. Tell the truth. I was a bitch, but I loved you all, so it was OK.
2. Pay a priest or other man (or woman) of the cloth to either a) act as if they knew me or b) tell my “loved” ones that even though they didn’t know me at all, they’re sure I was wonderful. Please see #1; odds are I would not have liked the priest and he would have thought I was a bitch.
3. Allow anyone in my family to tell you what I wanted. Here’s what I want: burn my ass and scatter it in water that stays above 70 degrees all year long. I have a savings account; take the money you don’t use and have a lot of drinks. Oh, and Stace, get yourself wild berry gummy lifesavers.
4. Argue over what to do with my ashes. I will haunt all your asses, Poltergeist-style. Don’t try me, people.
5. Do not, under ANY circumstances, attempt to have any sort of service or mass or what the FUCK ever. I have a clause in my will that the person who suggests this gets my bills and my extended family. You can handle my Visa but I assure you my uncles are a force all to themselves.
6. Do not call anyone not on this e-mail thread. You may all post a status on Facebook informing people of my untimely demise resulting from someone choking the living shit out of me (yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s going to go down) but that is all. Any tweets or phone calls with result in an Amityville-style mess of bullshit; real wrath-of-god type stuff.
When I die, please do:
1. Make certain my dog and other animals who live with me are cared for.
2. Refuse flowers, condolences, cards, e-mails, tweets, FB messages, letters, and donations from ANYONE who hasn’t seen me in the past year. I cannot budge on this one, people.
3. Get the fuck along. I don’t care if you all need to drink, everyone WILL make nice and love each other and hug and whatever. Anyone arguing gets the family, who I love but also have a genetic attachment to. See if you love them as much without the common DNA.
4. If anyone wants to disregard any of these wishes, go the hell along. Do NOT fight. I’ll get their asses; I promise.
