My friend Roy Cole is a great attorney. One day he called the governor and said that one of the local judges had died and he wanted to take his place. The judge said, “Well, if it’s ok with the undertaker, I guess it’s ok with me”.
Funeral expenses are insane. Nine or ten grand for a very simple one. That’s just nuts. When I go, I want the whole thing to be simple and as plain as it can be. No fancy casket or ceremony, no flowers, etc. Just put a layer of clay around my body and throw me in a kiln.
That way, it will act as an urn but I’ll always be remembered, albeit in a rather creepy way. I would want it to be painted of course and placed in the living room. That way when Heather comes home from work, she can still vent to me and get the usual response.
No one would have to scatter my ashes until I fall over but even then my ashes can be spread at Wiseguys comedy club! Only ten minutes away. Wait, they vacuum every night so I would wind up in a dumpster and my final resting place will be a landfill. I think I should think this thing through. .
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