“Die, my dear? Why, that’s the last thing I’ll do!” ~ Groucho Marx.
Well, even in this life, I don’t plan on dying being the last thing I “do.” I plan to rig the “urn” (a coffee can, of course) designated for my cremains to prank the person who opens it to dump my ashes in. THAT’S the last thing I’ll do. . . from beyond the “fiery trial.” Well, unless someone in my family spoils the surprise. . . I probably need to have some backup pranks set up, just in case. Maybe I can stretch my “presence” out a few years that way. 😉 Kinda leave an active legacy, ya know.
This olde pharte needs to get busy. . .
Ooo! Brain storm. Since I have instituted the tradition of responding to “family flatus” with “I love you too” (because farting is such a loving act–no! really!), I need to start canning farts and make a “Flatus Flouter” machine to release the gases at *cough* appropriate *cough* times (complete with annunciation sounds). What better way to remind my loved ones that they are still loved from “beyond the grave”? *heh*
Note to any family who read this: If you promise to sing, “Just Plant a Watermelon on My Grave” at any memorial service I might be persuaded to forgo some of the above. 🙂