Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Suicide Note Practice

Just in case things go wrong in my 70s or 80s, I want to be prepared:

Dear suicide inducers (you know who you are):

For those of you who cared, thanks for taking a few minutes away from watching American Idol or House or wearing a cool hat to give a hoot's hollar about my life's work, my endless drive, my unique way of seeing things, my undeniable charisma and my actually quite remarkable good looks. But instead of busting my gourd for little to no reward®, I'm opting for a quick and painless g'bye. I'm done being treated like Wonder Woman's invisible jet (something amazing that no one can see) by those who could make my life better, and being punished for wanting to get ahead in life, thus, I've decided it's time for me to go where the wild things really are. I heard there's a heaven and a hell, and I am out of money and out of ambition, so I've decided to go look for these so called 'pearly gates' or this, how do you say, 'parlor of demons', and play for a new team. I hope one of them lets me in and it's not like when the cruel kids would pick teams in grammar school gym class. But it wouldn't shock me if I was even an outsider weirdo on the etherial plain. In the past, 'play for a new team' may've been a euphemism for being gay, but please honor my death by using it from now on to mean jumping off a bridge in the hopes of finding everlasting peace, ie:

Person 1: "Did you hear Bill's playing for a new team?"
Person 2: "Bill's gay?"
Person 1: "No, what is wrong with you? He hung himself with a very ugly tie."
Person 2: "Who's Bill again?"
Person 1: "No one, let's grab some McWendy's"

Do not shed one single solitary tear for me, not that you were going to anyway, lest your inner acid hatred burn a hole in the floor. But remember me in every 16 Handles that you enter, as that was my favorite part of living.

I'll send you a postcard from the Milky Way, which is the new, "See ya never." I can't bare the sight of you all so much I'm making my new goal the easier, more achievable one of, I'll tell Elvis you all said "hi".

To my family, thanks for everything. It was a wild ride. If my CDs ever go platinum, please split the money even Steven (even give some to Steven) and don't fight over my online cyber mansion.

Adios, siyonara, and toodle-oo.

1 comment:

jackstrw said...

I should do my final note as classy as yours.