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I hope this is not too morbid for a Friday.
I was recently at a wake, and the whole open casket thing absolutely skeeves me out. The whole intended-to-be-comforting, "he looks so nice!" thing people say--fuck, he's DEAD! Please don't anyone cake 40 pounds of makeup on me and put me in a dress I'd never wear and stick me in an open box. Cremation in my favorite pair of butt-ripped jeans and paint-covered t-shirt, scatter my ashes in the ocean where I grew up--I then expect an evening of major drunken carousing and booze-sodden tears from my friends. After that, drink a bottle of excellent champagne for me on my birthday and toast our good times.
Oh and I guess donate my organs. Though if I know I'm gonna die in reasonable advance, I'm breaking out some fantastic whiskey well ahead of time and taking my liver with me.
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but you'll look sweet/upon the seat/of a bicycle built for two
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