Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Listen, we die when we die. That is how death works. There are people who spend their whole lives trying to “decode” or “understand” death, as an idea and as a concept, but there is nothing we need to understand other than: It’s the end. For religious folks, they believe death is either an amusement park, filled with cotton candy and dead relatives, all super-stoked to see you. Or a lake of fire filled with screaming souls and torment (all because you masturbated, you sick bastard!) For us realists, though, we know death is most likely the complete cessation of our being at that point. Where the soul goes, no one knows, but one thing is for sure. When we die, our time here on Earth is over. And the problem we all have with death is, that upsets us. That upsets the people who get left behind. The people who get stuck here. You see, our Country mourns wrong, and we mourn wrong because we are taught and encouraged to do so. Instead of being a celebration of the person who died’s life, it ends up being a sappy, weeping, sad event. And it is sad because we are all egocentric and think of that death in terms of ourselves. Oh, poor us. But what if someone planned the perfect wake? What if someone forced you to celebrate their life, instead of wallowing in their death? Well, that is what I am going to do, right now. I am putting my exact wishes for my wake and funeral into print, right now, thereby making it a legal, binding contract. And guess what, you’re all invited!
First things first, we need to set the standard for fun, so when people walk into the funeral parlor for my wake, first thing they HAVE TO DO, is go get a cone of soft serve with sprinkles (or “jimmies” if you got Boston love, like I do). Yes, that’s right. Next to the door where you come in there will be a table with cones. On that table will be a vanilla/chocolate soft serve machine. All guests will be required to walk over and get a cone of soft serve. Even if they only want ONE bite, that is fine, but that is how this all starts. Why? Because few people can be sad when they have a some soft serve with “jimmies” in front of them. It is called “setting the tone”.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
My death will be a delicious event for all. And for the lactose intolerant of you, there will be some lactose free frozen yogurt from TCBY.
You will notice, while you are eating, that sweet jams are being played the entire time. These jams will all be chosen by me, and they will fluctuate between happy, silly, sad, and awesome, in that order. There won’t be many sad ones, but they will be there to remind you all, from time to time, to recognize that loss. I will arrange seating so people who had long time feuds will be forced to sit together. Why? Because I want people to work out their differences over my rotting corpse. Speaking of my corpse, this is when stuff get’s really good.
I want to have an open casket, but ONLY IF I am not mangled. And I want to be dressed like Batman. I know, I know, that seems stupid, but I will tell you why it’s not. For some odd reason, our brains are poison, and when we see someone we love dead, that is how we always remember them after that moment. It sucks, but it’s true. So if I look like Batman in the coffin, full costume and utility belt, THAT is how you’ll remember me. Is there anything better than remembering someone you love as Batman? I am not sure, I have never experienced it, but I am pretty sure that would be the coolest thing ever, so that has to happen.
Plus, you will look at it and laugh, and that is what I want. Making you guys laugh was a big part of my life, and I have no problem with continuing that trend postmortem.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Yes, yes, it will be JUST LIKE THIS. But put a sock in my crotch so it looks like I am well endowed.
If I am badly disfigured or whatever, just urn me, but dress up the urn as Batman. I am not fucking kidding. And this is when the pull-string comes in.
Yup, the pull-string.
If I am an urn, just make it come out of the side. But if I am in my coffin, as Batman, the string needs to come out of the coffin on the side where the people will be kneeling. Instead of coming up and kneeling in front of my corpse (which is the weirdest ritual ever), you will be told to come up and pull the string. Much like a doll, when you pull my string, I will have (well over 300) phrases and sayings that will be heard by all. Some of these sayings, which are being pre-recorded now, will say things like:
Wow, Hell is way colder than I expected.
Holy shit, I don’t have to pay taxes anymore! Win!
(in Batman voice) Fighting crime was its own reward.
Man, death has some really sweet condos.
Guys, this was all a prank, someone go poke me and I’ll prove it.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
When a doll pulls its own string, is that masturbation?
And so on and so forth.
Many will be done in (poorly impersonated) celebrity voices. But the whole point of this is to take that seriousness and that sense of loss out of the wake. Truth is, I will be done. When any of us die (barring any huge tragedies, murder, or diseases) it should be a relief to those who loved that person that they are no longer stuck in the angry, fast-paced world, and my goal will be for my death to turn into a silly celebration of life, as oppose to some sad, sullen tearfest. This might be how we all need to tell look at life, actually. We are here for as long as we are here, and when we are done, we are done. The end. I think it is perfectly fine for those left behind to be sad, but don’t be sad for the wrong reasons. Don’t be sad FOR them. Be sad for you, because you know you will MISS them, but in a way, be happy for them.
They are leaving this place, you are the one stuck here. Cry for yourself, know what I mean?
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
I would like as many photos like this as possible at my wake. Stuck up EVERYWHERE, under seats and shit.
Alright, onto the meme contest.
This is when everyone will be told to sit down, and various photos of me from my social media existence will be passed around. Everyone will get a marker and everyone will be able to make one joke per photo. The photos will then be passed in and shown on overhead projectors. Think of it as a “roast”. Make fun of my hair. Make fun of my use of bad language. Make fun of my bad luck. Don’t be cruel, but have fun with it. Fuck it, be cruel! There will be five prizes put aside for the best Remy burn, as voted on by you guys. And the prizes are kickass, trust me.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
I will encourage hanging pictures of me to be vandalized for the sake of humor.
Oh, and there will be an open bar and a pastry table, by the way. This is a party, so I want people eating and drinking to their hearts content.
The evening will end with a storytelling session, with each person being given the option of fifteen minutes if they want to tell a quick “Remy story”. Not something mournful, but something weird, and awesome, like the shit I write about on here. Hell, print out a few of these and read them, doing various Remy impressions. I would want the day to be a celebration of my life and personality, and I want you guys laughing, not crying.
We save the crying for the jam session at the end (there will be three drum kits, a few guitars, a few mics, and a keyboard or two). I want my friends who make music to feel free to jam out at the end. Some sweet, soulful songs to wind the evening down.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
See, something just like this. Old lady HAS to be included. Old ladies make jam circles better.
The next day, for my actual burial, I want to be covered in chum and dropped in shark filled waters off the coast somewhere. I know that sounds insane, but how epic will that be for you guys, and what a way to go for me, huh? If that seems to intense, and you think you couldn’t pull it off, just have me cremated and sprinkle a little of me in the Pacific ocean, the Atlantic ocean, and the Indian ocean. Circle of life, yo.
So you see, there is ice cream, there are contests, there is live music, there are superheroes, there is free booze, there are ocean voyages, and instead of mourning a death, there is a celebration of life. How beautiful is that?
So there you have it. The binding contract on how I would like my wake and funeral to play out. If this does not happen, and I get one of those “room filled with crying people dressed in black” wakes, I swear to God I will haunt you all.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
Have you ever been haunted by a douche-ghost? Worst thing that can happen to a person.
The post Soft Serve, Booze and Prizes: Why My Wake Will Be Awesome appeared first on Remy Carreiro.