 |  |
 | day ten: the headline news |
And now, to make up for yesterday’s very lame post, some Saturday fun! Or some Whenever You Read This Fun! Except I’m not even sure it will be fun. But we’re going to find out now, aren’t we?
So. Apparently Canadians are getting creative with the wording of their gravestones.
My personal favorites? “This wasn’t my idea,” and the popular “I told you I was sick.”
(The headline of Norman Mailer’s obituary in the New York Times today might make a good epitaph, too: “Norman Mailer, Towering Writer With a Matching Ego, Dies at 84,” though I suspect he had something else in mind for his final resting place.)
Why is this a new trend, I wonder? Are Canadians only recently comfortable with eternal irreverence? And are we Americans as witty with our tombstones?
I’ve never given much thought to how I would want to be remembered. Have you? If you were to write yourself a clever little grave marker, what would it say?
Ooh, this sounds fun. How about one of these:
“Can someone please water my plants?”
“That was one killer burrito.”
“Slippery when wet.”
“Hey, baby. Come here often?”
“In case you’re wondering, yes, it was worth it.”
[in small print] “If you can read this, get off my face.”
“I can see your underwear.”
Thanks a lot, Dane, now I’m coughing so hard I can’t type! (Glad I wasn’t drinking anything, or we’d really have a mess.)
“NOW don’t you wish you’d called more often?”
Hmm, not as good as Dane’s. I’ll keep thinking.
“Wish You Were here!”
Here lies some guy. Who did some stuff. You shouldn’t do that stuff, or you might lie here, too.
Hmmm. Needs work. People never think about the important things, do they?
“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas”