If I can imagine a ho crying and carrying on and grabbing on to my casket at my funeral, then that bitch is my friend.
p.s. If you try and get in the coffin with me (because you can't go on without me), you get extra points!
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11 comments:
SB
Was thinking more like if I can imagine them at my grave pouring half of bottle of vodka on it and getting themselves wasted with the other half :/
Doug
Doug,
I would do that for you. I hope we are friends.
SB loves you!
You know I love you. I might not grab onto your casket, but I sure as shit would get drunk in your honor. That counts, right?
Dish,
That wouldn't be bad, but you'd be a better friend if you wanted to go to the grave with me because you just couldn't fucking go on in life without me. I demand a lot of loyalty.
I won't throw myself on your coffin but I will try to hug your hard cold corpse and wail like a banshee. OK?
That works for me, Jeannie.
I'd jump on your pyre.
If I was really depressed, which I would be because you'd be dead.
Do I win?
I'll cry bitter, knowing tears, broken by the occasional sob, holding back just enough for dramatic effect. That way I'll have staying power and will cry the longest. I will use a tissue box with your picture on it. Which will make me cry more, which is a big deal because I prefer my crying in private. I'll tuck a tissue in your coffin just in case you need one, and a little bottle of wine. Then drink a toast in your name. How's that?
Thanks, Mel. That works too.
Love, SB.
I won't do that, but I will dress up in sexy nurse outfit and pretend to be the RN who resuscitates the mourners we will hire to cry and pass out and try to get into the coffin with you. I will fan away with funeral home fans, tottering on stilletos, reviving people with sips from teeny bottles of Jack Daniels, saying, "Lemme minister you your med-sin honey." It will be such a good time that you will return from the great beyond and re-join us. No one will want to miss SB's great send off, not even SB.
Glimmer,
I dig that mental image. I just might rise up for the dead to catch that shit. If the smell of Jack Daniels wouldn't revive me, I don't know what would.
Love, SB.
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