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My wife’s grandfather died from heart failure last week, and when I saw the bill from the funeral home, I almost had a heart attack, too. It was just over $10,000 and it’s a good thing they got the cheap coffin or it could have been a lot more.

Personally, I could care less if they just throw my body in the curb-side garbage can when I croak. Trash service is only $18 a month, and the seagulls at the dump would take care of the rest for free. But I’m sure our all-controlling government would prevent that common sense solution, so I’ll focus on my other beef. Why do funerals have to be such a downer?

If a young person dies, it’s a tragedy, and they should be mourned. But if you’ve lived a long, full life, it should be celebrated. For those people every city should have at least one funeral parlor that promises less lamentation and more jubilation.

For $10,000 you could throw one hell of a party, and that’s what I want. And you can forget about all those stupid embalming compounds because the whole preservation process creeps me the fuck out. Unless you really want to be raised as a zombie, there’s just no reason for it.

An open-coffin viewing is a goddamned abomination, and that’s why every January I record a short video to be used in the event I die that year. This year I didn’t say anything but just did the Buffalo Bill dick-tuck dance from The Silence of the Lambs.

I feel that sums me up better than some stupid poem or song.

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