Tomb It May Concern

I think it's time to talk about something that I've avoided bringing up for a while now: I'm dying.

Oh, not from anything on particular. I'm simple wearing out at the same rate as any other reasonably healthy, uncommonly good-looking man my age is. Nothing is preventing my eventual and imminent demise. Thus, I'm dying.

Maybe I should have led with that.

Anyway, the thought of my own mortality brings up the concern of what's going to happen to my chocolate shell once the creamy filling has moved on (side note: I'm pretty sure discussing my physical presence in terms of chocolate will increase my attractiveness to my lovely wife - I'll report back on any findings). I've never really considered the whole visitation and burial thing with anything approaching seriousness, because I'm not going to be there, so, you know...whatever. It's not really for me, right?

The thing is that now that I have started thinking about it, I actually do have some serious opinions on it (Okay fine...as close to serious as I'm going to get on a blog that regularly deals with rude noises and proper simian appreciation). For example, I'm not really keen on the whole embalming thing. I really don't see the point in pulling all of my bodily fluids out just to replace them with something else. For one thing it's really gross just to think about. Plus embalming fluid smells nasty. Maybe if it was Diet Pepsi I would be more comfortable with it, but then I've been trying to replace all my bodily fluids with Diet Pepsi for years, so that just makes sense.

You may express concern that if I am not properly embalmed, then I won't be preserved correctly for the visitation. I would answer that by first pointing out once again that you're reading this on the internet, and as a one way medium I can't actually hear this concern that you're expressing. Stop talking to your computer. Pull yourself together. People are starting to stare.

As far as the visitation itself, I really don't want to be there. I know - it's about letting people say goodbye. Well, next time you see me, do me a favor: Just say goodbye then. That way, we can avoid the whole creepy "people standing over a thing that vaguely looks like me and is wearing my clothes" scene. I don't want people remembering me that way. Nobody (or "no body", as the case may be) ever looks the same as they did before. I want people to remember me the way I am now. This is even truer for those who haven't seen me in a long time. Still think of me looking the way I did in high school? Perfect! Way better than thinking of me as a purse-lipped wax figure pretending he's asleep.

Honestly, the idea that my family would spend a bunch of money buying a fancy box and having me pumped full of creepy chemicals just so people could look at the broken machine that was me just makes me sad. I'd much rather be put into the cheapest thing on hand (cardboard acceptable) and promptly toasted into unidentifiable char before anyone has to look at the ex-me. Go ahead and put the ash in a small, fancy box if that trips your trigger. People can look at that. Here, I think this one would work out nicely:

After all, if the believers are right, death is also bigger on the inside.