Do these things with my corpse when I die.

Posted on December 4th, 2008

I’m gonna die. Probably not today or tomorrow. I mean, you never know. I could die accidentally.

Falling brick. Murdered. Sheep-attack. That kind of thing.

But that’s glass half-empty death-talk.

However as a twenty three year old male with a family history of alcoholism and heart problems, I think it’s safe to say I’m going to die within the next sixty years.

And damn it, I want to be prepared.

Death scares people. I know this because I took a small sample survey at Kinderson’s Daycare Academy in Port Moody and every child I asked about death started to sob uncontrollably.

Death is sudden and so final: you’re just not there anymore. I like the idea of having some control over my last days, as if I had a terminal illness and the doctors gave me a best-before date. If I knew I had say, three weeks left, I’d make the most of them. Bed-ridden, squalid, pooping in a bucket Andrew can’t skydive or do heroin.

I’ve thought extensively about my funeral. I’d like the casket to be translucent, made out of plexiglass from the old Montreal Forum if possible.  Bury me in a suit two sizes too small, with a top hat and cane, and positioned as if I am dancing or about to escape from the coffin. Make my face appear as though I am smiling, surgically is need be. Tilt the head so it looks like I’m watching everyone through the plexiglass; seat the children in the front row. Hand out glow sticks.

By default I wish for Bob Woolsey to host the gathering. In the event that he died before me or we were in the same hot air balloon, I’ll let my brother do it. He’ll put in a solid effort.

I don’t want to give my stuff to anyone specific. In a will, you can leave your house to your son, money to a wife, whatever… no. Not me. I want everything I own to be placed in a pile as it will be claimed on a first come, first serve basis.

I think burying a body in the earth is utterly stupid. It’s a waste of land and shovel work. Donate my carcass to science or cannibals. If someone wants to wear my face a hat, let them. I’m dead. Whatever happens, happens.

Ten Ways Andrew Could Die

1. Heart attack
2. Alcohol poisoning
3. Stabbed by prostitute
4. Hit by bus
5. Hit by tractor
6. Double jeopardy
7. Falling telephone pole
8. Broken neck
9. Crime of passion
10. Spontaneous combustion

Related posts:

1. Things Hip Hop Music Has Taught Me
2. Ways to Die

Tags: corpse, death, dying, heroin
Filed under All Blogs, Andrew's Blog |

5 Responses to “Do these things with my corpse when I die.”

1. bob Says:
   December 4th, 2008 at 6:30 pm

   If/When you die, I will mourn you for no longer than 10 days. Then I will get on with my life and dedicate whatever else I do to your memory. Just like that time I tried out for Canadian Idol and told them I wanted to dedicate whatever I accomplished there to you, my dead friend. Even though you weren’t technically dead at that time.

2. Diana Says:
   December 4th, 2008 at 7:18 pm

   I don’t know what part of this blog is my favorite. Is it that being stabbed by a prostitute is number three on your list or your death survey at the daycare?
   I enjoyed this very much…
   you sick twisted man.

3. andrew Says:
   December 4th, 2008 at 7:34 pm

   No one has ever called me a man before. This is a good day.

4. Nick Says:
   December 11th, 2008 at 3:38 pm

   I always have an urge to draw a fake mustaches on dead people in coffins. Of course I don’t acutally do it, but I sit there and secretly wish I brought a sharpie everytime.

5. David Menzies Says:
   February 1st, 2009 at 12:48 pm

   first off, i now hope you and bob go at the same time, so i can MC your funeral. Second, i will gladly take ur face as a mask and your identification, and walk around places where you would be known to be. People will then believe they saw you and be more hurt, distrought, and possibly suicidal! Best wishes good sir

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