In response to Steve's comment on how ones funeral unfolds, I can offer you guys this. if I get knocked off the planet by a bolt of lightning, or pudding, or a big shovel, then here's the Do's and don'ts of my death.
DO Cry if you want, but likely, if you knew me well enough, you'll be laughing your ass off at half the stuff I did, or complaining that I complained too much in my blog. Either way, you won't be crying for long, cause HEY! I'm dead and I'm happy. What's wrong with all you weepy bastards down there?
DO NOT USE TRITE PHRASES TO CONSOLE MY REMAINING SURVIVORS. None of this "oh, she's flying with the angels (or angles,), or everyone who knew her will miss her (lame and captain obvious) or any bible phrases about hills and help and being strong and looking to God, heard it all already. If you're going to console my survivors, tell stupid stories about me doing stupid stuff so they laugh.
WEAR WHATEVER COLOR YOU WANT TO THE CEREMONIES. Except beige. I'll haunt you personally if you wear beige.
Do not talk to the sky or write me on a computer after I die. There is no need for DSL in heaven and I will not being sitting on a cloud. those things are cold. Also, I will not be dropping pennies from heaven for you. Please do not write me or my survivors pathetic poetry about tears and hearts and foo foo poo poo angely ya ya hoody crap. You may write 1 haiku a piece. If you can't make it tasteful, intelligent or funny then make it offensive to corporations.
Please don't keep a picture of me next to your bed and kiss it every night. That's creepy.
Don't get all codependent and say oh boo hoo, I can't go on, she's not here. I'll still be there, but it'll be far harder to see me making faces and hand gestures in the spirit world - which makes it all that much more fun for me!!!
Don't feel bad that you didn't eat snails with me or take me to some godawful movie or sporting event, or feel guilty about what you didn't say. I'll already know what you wanted and/or felt and I'll just continue to make ethereal hand gestures and shadow puppets behind your back.
Don't worry about my eternal soul. God and I, we chat over tea. we're all good.
DO Serve tiramisu at the afterparty.
Don't let the morticians put unnatural makeup on me that you wouldn't see me wearing. I don't wear peach lipstick folks.
If you're going to play music and be sad, then for God's sake play VNV or something, then lighten it up with some techno and gradually move into some Weird Al.
I will not talk to you from the afterlife from a board or some moron psychis asking for me. Instead i'll harass you in your dreams, coerce your pets to act funny, and if I'm really good, make strange coincidences happen like...goldfish in your glove compartment. ok, so that's not a coincidence, it's just weird. You get my point.
Whoever writes the obituary, don't sum up my life with labels like GOTH, ARTIST, GIRL, whatever. Talk about what I liked to eat, my petnames and my pets names, describe the weird sounds I used to make at random. If I inspired you, great. If I freaked you out, even better. if i did both at the same time, points for me.
If you must grieve, then grieve. If you want to remember me, visit new orleans and stuff yourself, pet cute things that squeak, get excited about happy sparkly shiny stuff, and rant about stupid people. it'sll be like I'm right there. And I will be. Look! I can make a shadow bunny!
DO Cry if you want, but likely, if you knew me well enough, you'll be laughing your ass off at half the stuff I did, or complaining that I complained too much in my blog. Either way, you won't be crying for long, cause HEY! I'm dead and I'm happy. What's wrong with all you weepy bastards down there?
DO NOT USE TRITE PHRASES TO CONSOLE MY REMAINING SURVIVORS. None of this "oh, she's flying with the angels (or angles,), or everyone who knew her will miss her (lame and captain obvious) or any bible phrases about hills and help and being strong and looking to God, heard it all already. If you're going to console my survivors, tell stupid stories about me doing stupid stuff so they laugh.
WEAR WHATEVER COLOR YOU WANT TO THE CEREMONIES. Except beige. I'll haunt you personally if you wear beige.
Do not talk to the sky or write me on a computer after I die. There is no need for DSL in heaven and I will not being sitting on a cloud. those things are cold. Also, I will not be dropping pennies from heaven for you. Please do not write me or my survivors pathetic poetry about tears and hearts and foo foo poo poo angely ya ya hoody crap. You may write 1 haiku a piece. If you can't make it tasteful, intelligent or funny then make it offensive to corporations.
Please don't keep a picture of me next to your bed and kiss it every night. That's creepy.
Don't get all codependent and say oh boo hoo, I can't go on, she's not here. I'll still be there, but it'll be far harder to see me making faces and hand gestures in the spirit world - which makes it all that much more fun for me!!!
Don't feel bad that you didn't eat snails with me or take me to some godawful movie or sporting event, or feel guilty about what you didn't say. I'll already know what you wanted and/or felt and I'll just continue to make ethereal hand gestures and shadow puppets behind your back.
Don't worry about my eternal soul. God and I, we chat over tea. we're all good.
DO Serve tiramisu at the afterparty.
Don't let the morticians put unnatural makeup on me that you wouldn't see me wearing. I don't wear peach lipstick folks.
If you're going to play music and be sad, then for God's sake play VNV or something, then lighten it up with some techno and gradually move into some Weird Al.
I will not talk to you from the afterlife from a board or some moron psychis asking for me. Instead i'll harass you in your dreams, coerce your pets to act funny, and if I'm really good, make strange coincidences happen like...goldfish in your glove compartment. ok, so that's not a coincidence, it's just weird. You get my point.
Whoever writes the obituary, don't sum up my life with labels like GOTH, ARTIST, GIRL, whatever. Talk about what I liked to eat, my petnames and my pets names, describe the weird sounds I used to make at random. If I inspired you, great. If I freaked you out, even better. if i did both at the same time, points for me.
If you must grieve, then grieve. If you want to remember me, visit new orleans and stuff yourself, pet cute things that squeak, get excited about happy sparkly shiny stuff, and rant about stupid people. it'sll be like I'm right there. And I will be. Look! I can make a shadow bunny!
posted by Peep at
6/21/2007 07:42:00 PM
1 Comments:
I don't think you complain too much in your blog, you just don't not complain enough :). However, when you do vent your spleen you do tend to say things that I can identify with. So after a train of somewhat perverse logic, I've decided your my designated spleen.
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