about
Yeah, that's right. I'm goin there.
It all started with a conversation I had with Miss Ellie awhile back. See, Ellie has a plot all set out for herself right next to Mr. Miss Ellie. Only Ellie doesn't want to be buried there. You're wondering why, I bet. Me too and I asked.
Ellie: It's a bad neighborhood!
Me: So. You're gonna be dead. Worst that could happen....somebody digs you up and turns you into a lamp or something.
Ellie: But you won't be dead.
Me: I certainly hope not.
Ellie: what about when you come to visit? Who knows what might happen to you?
Me: Why would I want to visit a dead person? They don't talk or do anything interesting.
Ellie: Well, most people DO bring flowers!
Me: What for? Dead people can't smell and they sure can't see anything. Not with all that dirt on top of them.
I don't know if it was the conversation with me or what, but now Ellie has decided to be cremated. ICK!
I told Bob, I have decided I want to stay on the sofa with the tv on.
He said, "No way. What if I want to bring home a date?"
My feeling...if his date ends up in the living room, watching tv with me, he's probably not gonna make it to first base anyhow. Besides, why would he need to date when I'd be right there? If he was thinking he'd realize that it would be the first time in our whole lives that I wouldn't be able to talk. Seems like he'd be all over that like white on rice.
So what are you gonna do with yourself after you kick off?
STOP IT!!!!!
I know you are practicing! I keep telling you I get 5 weeks vacation a year. Give up already. I will/ am beat/beating your high score!!!!!
Ahhhhhhhh ah ah ah ah
Whatever you do!! DO NOT pay $45.00 a day for keeping me cold! Just make Squirrel clean out her fridge and keep me in there.
Ahhhhhhh ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Manny, she is a bad, bad, woman that one. If you stay on the couch it has to be your couch cuz I'll be laying on mine.
Milky, did we? Isn't it odd that after I spend quality time during the holidays my mind goes in such strange places?
G-man, please suh, may I have some more? LOL!
Manny, that game is kickin your butt, huh? ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha! You're never gonna beat my high score. If it helps....... remember, you're a loser, not a quitter. Squirrels freezer isn't big enough unless we take your legs off. Even then she'd have to take out that shelf. And, you're welcome.
Your hubby is THE luckiest guy on Earth.
YOU are the funniest chick in all of blogdom.
You look lot's younger than your 37 years.
Can I be your foot-rub bitch?
I will personally bring you 12 Walnut Crunches for free just say the word.
Red Heads Rock!!
Crab when you smile, the stars get jealous!!
Shakespeare could'nt describe your beauty..
Enough?
At 12/29/2006 2:39 PM, 
Unknown
Laying on the couch watching TV for eternity...didn't think of that.
Well at my wake I want to be proped up on a beach chair in a big box of sand a la Weekend at Bernie's. I plan on having a Corona in my hand and sunglasses on so as to not freak anyone out...you know, some people might be wigged out if my eyes were open and big smile was premanently gracing my rigormortised face.
After the party, I mean wake, I will be cremated, and stuck into a pod and launched into the ocean (I actually wrote about this last year...the company is Eternal Reefs...they're on-line, check 'em out). That's pretty much the end of the road for me...as it were...
Manny, wait till you start playing shapeshifter. You not only have to beat my high scores but internet high scores too. bwwwwwwwwwwww ha ha ha ha ha!
Saintly Nick, I hear ya, my sometimes saintly friend. Only thing worse than putting up with pain in the butt relatives when your alive is having them around still when you kick off. ICK! Maybe we could find you a spot in with the former playmates of the month. Some of those gal should be gone by then.
Barman, NO! I don't think a recording would freak them out at all in fact, now that you've given me the idea, I'm doin it. I'll play it here for you guys when I've perfected it. I think we should shoot for surround sound so we'll sound all "From the great beyond" and stuff.
At 12/31/2006 1:51 PM, Mouthy Girl
Cripes. I don't want or need a plot. I say burn me up and scatter all of my cute ashes to the wind. However, before shoving me into the oven, I want any and all working parts donated to people who can use 'em.
Anyone who wants to bring me flowers should do so in their own homes so they can enjoy their beauty and scent. I'll be there in spirit regardless! I'm too hot to trot to have my spirit fade away after death.
My Dad wanted to be creamated, but my Mother couldn't bring herself to do it. A week before he died, my Dad told me to let my Mom do whatever made her feel better. Even that short time before his death, he and I joked about his nickname (Burn it up Bob) and how it was related to the possible creamation. He earned the name because he ALWAYS burned whatever was cooking on the grill. Irony.. I love it.
What am I going to do with myself when I kick off? Probably just lie there until someone does something with me.
I like what the Zoroastrians do with their towers of silence. They put your body way at the top of a tower and let the vultures dispose of you. Now that's cool. Perhaps I'd like to have my body thrown in the middle of the Serengeti to feed the lions.
Check your shoes before you leave.
I'm keeping my plot right next to mom. You all don't have to put me there, but I'll be damned (wrong word) if aunt deloris (bitch from hell) is going to sell it! You can sell it tho.
I don't want cremated! All my parts have to be right there even tho the kidneys are going (or so they say) I still feel fine!
OK, you can keep me on the couch, but pleeeez, no daytime TV! Keep it on the food channel.