Pall bearing

I'm getting it stipulated in my will that no funeral be held for me. For one thing, if I go before my mom I don't want her knowing how few lives I affected, and second, as big as I am I'm going to be a fucking haul for six-10 poor sumbitches. Just nuke me and scatter my ashes on a football field, baby. Or flush them down the toilet, whatever's closer.

 

Also been a pallbearer twice, and we had six both times. It's really hard to lift heavy shit in a suit without ripping something.

Anyway, somebody better cremate my ass. Don't waste your money on a stupid coffin for me; I can't enjoy it anyway. Whoever wants what's left can do what they want with 'em. But pound me up into a little jar, please. That's all I ask.

(I just made my final wishes known on SportsJournalists.com. And in no way did I find that disturbing. What's that say about me? What's that say about y'all? Damn. This place is weird. Carry on.)