If you are reading this, I am dead. I died on (DATE) of (THING). I was either surrounded by loved ones or a bunch of weird pornographic publications.
If the thing I died of is one of those things that people hold fundraisers for, please leave me out of it. I think fundraisers are great, but as soon as someone figures out the password on my computer and sees my search history, you're not going to want my name associated with whatever it is you're trying to cure. It won't help. People who made donations years ago will probably ask for them back.
If the thing I died of is hilarious, please make horrible jokes about it. That's what I would have done if you died before I did.
If the thing I died from is NOT hilarious, please make fun of how lamely I died.
Since Viking Funerals are illegal, I want my body to go to one of those body farms where they bury carcasses in a field and teach dogs how to sniff them out. Before you bury me, though, please have someone dressed as David Caruso from 'CSI: Miami' stand over my body and say a not-very-clever quip while putting sunglasses on. Then kick him in the balls and tell him his mother was never proud of anything he did. Don't tell him you're going to do it, though -- I want it to be a surprise.
In lieu of everything, please don't do anything. Y'all did enough while I was here, and there's no reason for you to do a bunch of stuff that I'm not around for anyway. Go home, have a beer, and watch TV (or consume media in whatever way you future-people consume media.) I hope 'William Shatner's: Weird or What?' is still on. That's a great show.
Before you get on whatever social media you future-people use now to tell everyone how I was your best-good friend, please don't. At the time of this writing, there are about nine people on this planet who have any business doing that, and none of them are going to do that because they're not lame. I don't believe in ghosts, but if I'm wrong, I will come back and haunt the ever-loving shit out of you. It won't be one of those movie-hauntings than ends when the short lady with the munchkin voice comes and does stuff and then Carol Anne isn't inside the TV anymore and Coach from 'Coach' is all happy because his family is saved. It will be one of those hauntings that ends with you standing with your face in the corner in a dirty basement right before the witch eats you.
I'm not religious, so please don't do any religious stuff unless it makes you feel better. In which case, have at 'er.
I would like a headstone, and I want it to read "I'm right behind you" in teeny tiny letters so people have to get really close to read it. Hide one of those Hallowe'en doormats that screams when someone steps on it under some astroturf right in front of the headstone. Set up a video camera nearby.
That's all I got. And now that it's in writing AND on the Internet, you legally have to do everything you just read. That's not the way the law works as I write this, but I'm pretty sure in the future when you read this, that's exactly how the law will work. Anything you see or read online, you have to do. So you might want to stay off the really weird porn sites.
x x
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(That little dude with the x-eyes above this sentence is me, dead.)
