I'm back in Illinois at my mom's for Funeralpalooza 07 - two funerals in four days. My family are experts at the funeral game these days - we try to have at least a couple a year.
I'm disturbingly apathetic about the whole process; maybe you can tell. If it ever catches up with me, I'll go on a month-long weeping spree.
Anyway, I was thinking about my own funeral, and I know you can't write your own eulogy, but if I could, I think it would start "Mike hated babies and women..."
I think that's funny.
I just knocked on wood.
You may share your funny funeral anecdotes, you may not offer your condolences. Ok, you can offer condolences, but it seems really weird to me.
Ok, gotta go. Ashes to snort.
2 comments:
He was the common man. He wasn't beneath a cheap hand-job from a tranny hooker.
I once saw Mike drown a puppy in a bucket. And his hatred of "coloreds" as he call them was matched only by his love of sex with men. He lived like he loved, with his eyes closed and his shirt on. He died like he drank, alone in a dark room covered in a mixture of tears, blood, and vomit...which is also how he loved. He was like a brother to me, but not to his actual brother. And not as much as my brother was a brother to me. I'll miss him very much, but I won't miss the awkward silence that we shared when he explained to me how Jews and Wal-Mart control the media and the reunion of 80s bands.
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