I ran across the very real, very funny obituary of a Missouri woman while browsing the interwebs (You owe it to yourself to read it here)
80 or 90 years from now, when I finally go on to my great reward, I hope those I leave behind will cherish my memory in similar fashion. As they’ll no doubt be riddled with grief, or dementia, I figured I should help them out:
The Vinyl Villager, age 104, passed from this life while fulfilling one of the items on his “bucket list.” Witnesses report he was able to perform 8 perfect back flips before the chute failed to open.
Born in 1977, renovated in 2017, and rebuilt from the ground up in 2047, Mr. Villager will be sadly missed by his plastic surgeon, Dr. Ty Tass, his dermatologist Dr. Beau Tocks, and the National Auto Dealers Association. His passing will be celebrated by almost everyone he ever worked with, the gal who does his laundry, and the service manager at the local Honda dealer.
Mr. Villager was preceded in death by his mother, who lost a battle with prostate cancer in 2034, his stepmother, who died of a broken heart when none of her kids would give her a damned grandbaby, and his father, who finally fell asleep at the wheel and drove his stick shifted station wagon off the side of a mountain just days after his 100th birthday celebration. His sister died out of spite in 2008 just to leave him stuck with their mother.
He is survived by his brothers, Zippy (who, at age 90, was the oldest person to be awarded a bachelors degree by State University), and John (who still lives in their parents house and hopes Mr. Villager left him enough money to finally put in a stove that works.) He is also survived by his loving partner, who finds it very rude that Vinyl would go first, especially widowing someone at an age when landing a second “trophy” husband is damned near impossible.
There will be no viewing, in accordance with his wishes, as he hated that undertakers always make the dead look like they are sleeping, and, really, who falls asleep in a suit with that much makeup on? Rather, all who cherish his memory are invited to the Villager home next Saturday where Dr. Tocks will be administring free injections, followed by a demolition derby, board games, and a catered meal featuring seven courses of his favorite foods. Vinyl had hoped to live aboard a cruise ship once he retired, and was planning to do just that after making his final student loan payment next August. Friends and family had planned to scatter the cremains at sea, but they were unfortunately lost when his long suffering housekeeper mistook the urn for one of the gravy tureans and ran him through the dishwasher.
In lieu of flowers, Mr. V would have preferred you go buy yourself a nice set of sheets and some new bed pillows–two luxuries in life he was never without.