I May or May Not Return
Today I'll be having all four wisdom teeth pulled. Anestesia kills. I forgot to hire an attorney and write a will. So I guess I'll write the will out now sans the lawyer.
I leave my wardrobe to the third world charity "Children without Jobs." I figure those kids made most of my clothes they might as well get them back. Who else would fit into them anyway.
I leave my stalking to the CIA. They could use all the help they can get. Note CIA I never have to lay a hand on anyone--that's probably because no one asks.
My music collection will be given away to people who answer trivia questions correctly. The trivia questions should be about the muscian or album to be given away. The event should be held at a bar or a VFW. This event should also be held weeks after my death as it might be really fun, and I want people to be sad for at least a day if not a week after I pass. I am not from the school of people shouldn't be sad when I die. If you cared you'd be sad. You may laugh during the morning period. However, those laughs should be brought about by memories of me.
I leave my remaining food to my roommates. I think that's just easiest. However, if you really want my half eaten jar of all natural peanut butter that I have stuck my forefinger in repeatedly just ask one of my roomies I'm sure they'd hand it over.
My writings and the videos of my performances shall be donated to the museum of television and radio. The most legible should be framed and sent to the Fryers Club where they maybe displayed for the world of old decrepit men to see while they dine. Men who are unfairly still alive well past their prime. While I'm dead at the oral surgeon's office unable to tell the hilarious story of how I died getting my wisdom teeth out.
Speaking of the hilarious story of my impending death. I leave the hilarious story to Bill Cosby. He is really good at telling funny stories and he already has dentist bit, I think my death story at the oral surgeon would fit in his set nicely. I know my father would like to inherit the story, but in his hands I feel it might get damaged with a long of set up and too many puns.
If my lost engagenment ring ever turns up I leave that to my fiance James. In the meantime he may have the picture of said ring.
I will not be donating my body to science because...well, fuck science. It was science that killed me. You'd think after years of surgery they could get the hang of anestesia. I'm not going to give them my body twice.
And with that I leave you readers with Luna's live performance of "Anestesia." I would have also left you with Carter U.S.M's "Last Will and Testament" but the sound on the youtube video was unbearable.
WILL
I leave my wardrobe to the third world charity "Children without Jobs." I figure those kids made most of my clothes they might as well get them back. Who else would fit into them anyway.
I leave my stalking to the CIA. They could use all the help they can get. Note CIA I never have to lay a hand on anyone--that's probably because no one asks.
My music collection will be given away to people who answer trivia questions correctly. The trivia questions should be about the muscian or album to be given away. The event should be held at a bar or a VFW. This event should also be held weeks after my death as it might be really fun, and I want people to be sad for at least a day if not a week after I pass. I am not from the school of people shouldn't be sad when I die. If you cared you'd be sad. You may laugh during the morning period. However, those laughs should be brought about by memories of me.
I leave my remaining food to my roommates. I think that's just easiest. However, if you really want my half eaten jar of all natural peanut butter that I have stuck my forefinger in repeatedly just ask one of my roomies I'm sure they'd hand it over.
My writings and the videos of my performances shall be donated to the museum of television and radio. The most legible should be framed and sent to the Fryers Club where they maybe displayed for the world of old decrepit men to see while they dine. Men who are unfairly still alive well past their prime. While I'm dead at the oral surgeon's office unable to tell the hilarious story of how I died getting my wisdom teeth out.
Speaking of the hilarious story of my impending death. I leave the hilarious story to Bill Cosby. He is really good at telling funny stories and he already has dentist bit, I think my death story at the oral surgeon would fit in his set nicely. I know my father would like to inherit the story, but in his hands I feel it might get damaged with a long of set up and too many puns.
If my lost engagenment ring ever turns up I leave that to my fiance James. In the meantime he may have the picture of said ring.
I will not be donating my body to science because...well, fuck science. It was science that killed me. You'd think after years of surgery they could get the hang of anestesia. I'm not going to give them my body twice.
And with that I leave you readers with Luna's live performance of "Anestesia." I would have also left you with Carter U.S.M's "Last Will and Testament" but the sound on the youtube video was unbearable.
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