I actually have memos I've handed out to several friends of mine that in my will I've asked them to read at my funeral at the event of my sudden yet predictable death or suicide. Let's look at one of them right now.
"I'm here today to mourn the loss of one of my closest friends, _____ ______, or as some of you may know him, Deoxic, Deo, Johan Von Copperfield, Dracula Vladstibitz Marconi Maximburbageoppenheimer Tesla Von Zeppelin, or most imfamously Pimpshit Asseater Confucius McGee, Professional Lolicon Peddler and Donkeycock Slapper of Venezuela. Ah yes, those crazy adventures he had in Venezuela. I remember when he and I were selling smut to the schoolchildren after school, and they challenged my friend to a blow-sniffing contest. They got two massive barrels of cocaine and made them leak a bit off the back of a truck that was driving down the road. He and some filthy Somalian immigrant had a bet to see how long they could keep following the truck. The boy gave up after 100 yards, but damn it all if this incredible man didn't follow that car for three miles snorting all the cocaine out of that barrel. We almost were going to follow him, but then we noticed he just followed the cocaine trail back to us that the losing dead child didn't snort up. Ha ha, those were magical times, weren't they?
But he's gone now, you know? I mean, that's what the funeral is for, right? .....This IS his funeral, right? Because I've been drinking all day, and honestly, this is the fourth church I've wandered into while looking for his funeral. Just tragic, tragic shit, is what it is. ...Oh, so it IS his funeral? Thank Christ, I can't feel my fucking legs so I don't think I could afford to walk any more after all of this. I'm just wasted out of my head right now. The guy just left me a shitload of booze in his will that he's been hiding and gathering underneath the floorboards of his house, so I've just been going to town since he kicked. This Peach Schnapps is really good shit.
But on the topic of churches, I felt it was disrespectful to him to bring him here to hold his services. I mean, I know he's dead, but you guys shouldn't do whatever the fuck you want. I've read his will; he didn't want to have his services held in a church. He hates churches. Good Christ, did you people hear about those series of arson scandals on religious institutions? I mean it, he really fucking hates churches. We might as well open his casket and just piss on him whenever we walk by. He's probably looking up at us right now, saying when we get to Hell he's going to kick our asses.
I mean of course holding it at the Hooters or the Bowling Alley like he originally wanted to might've been a bit much, and it would've been a hell of a stretch cremate him and to have his ashes mixed into cake frosting to be smeared on and licked off of the Hooters girls, but we really need to honor his last requests more. The man didn't save our country for nothing. I mean, it was a shitload of zombies he managed to fight off by himself. And despite destroying half of the middle east in the process and singlehandedly crippling the oil market, sometimes a man needs to make sacrifices. I think that's what he truly believed in. Sacrifices. Or some stupid shit, I don't know. He was a racist, so he was probably happy to bomb those filthy sand-niggers halfway to Sunday. And the Sunday of our CHRISTIAN God, not their hullabaloo Allah God of bombing the fuck out of anybody unlucky enough to be born near a tangible body of vegetation or freshwater.
But yeah, reception starts in half an hour. We're all getting drunk, and as per his will, we'll have enough hookers to create a concentration of enough STDs to make anybody HIV positive immediately drop dead the moment they walk into the room. Sorry Uncle Phillip, you're going to have to party outside. VIVA LA ALCOHOL! WE DRINK IN HIS MEMORY!
Also that dumbslut of a wife he happened to marry, you didn't have to walk here. He told you the keys were under the fucking couch. God-damn."
No comments:
Post a Comment