Let me preface this by saying that I am not dying. At least I don’t think I am. Although I do have a pretty bad pain in my back at the moment, but it’s probably either from the 10,000 push-ups I did last week (not true) or the fact that I got drunk and passed out in my hallway this weekend (true). This is merely an exercise that I came across and thought looked interesting, so I’m doing it. Please don’t spread the word that I am dying. It will somehow get back to my mother, and she will be pissed at me.
My Last Will and Testament
If you are reading this, then I’ve kicked the bucket. Just like Sean Bean’s character in any movie or show Sean Bean has ever been in, I am dead. Let me first say sorry, because the world just lost a pretty good guy and an even better petter of dogs. I will undoubtedly have perished doing something incredibly badass, like riding a shark, or base jumping from the world’s tallest building, or removing the tags from my mattress even though it’s against federal law. My lifestyle can be best described as “rock and roll,” and I spent most of my time on Earth demonstrating to people that I was a cowboy who played by no man’s rules but my own. It was a life well lived, to be sure.
I have a few requests for my funeral, and I’ll list them here shortly. Just keep in mind that these wishes have to be granted, it’s basically a law. If any of these are neglected, I’m going to come back and haunt the shit out of you.
- Each one of my pall bearers should be dressed as a different character from The Avengers. Nobody will be Captain America, because I still very much believe that he is real. A spot will be left for him to carry the casket, even if he’s probably got way more important shit to take care of, like saving the planet or thinking about his long lost love.
- There must be a wolf howling when my body is lowered into the ground. I don’t care how it’s accomplished, it just needs to happen. Wolves have been scientifically proven to be the most badass animal on the planet, and if one is howling as I’m laid to rest people will realize that I was even cooler than they could have possibly imagined, because I clearly affected this wolf in a very profound way.
- I would like a 21 gun salute, but not in the traditional sense; I know that those are reserved for members of the military, and I respect our soldiers too much to take that from them. At my funeral, the gun shots will be replaced by the hand claps from the hit sitcom, Friends. I should also mention that in a perfect world, the cast would be there to do the claps. But I understand that there is a bit of enmity between the former members of the show, and will begrudgingly accept if the cast isn’t present.
- There need to be security guards with ear pieces and microphones that they keep talking into. This will give the impression that I was involved in some sort of secret government shit that even my closest friends and family weren’t privy to.
- In some capacity, there must be a guy in a kilt playing bagpipes. Try to get this Scotsman to play “Journey Through the Past,” because that song is sad as shit and people will sob their effing brains out.
- A random person that nobody else knows should step forward at some point and proclaim that I was “the voice of a generation.” That person will then try to keep talking, be overcome with emotion, and leave the cemetery. I will accept the hiring of a professional actor to fill this role.
- I leave the substantial student load debt that I have accrued to the government. They have earned it.
- Please do not read from The Bible. The Bible is boring. I’m not discounting its historical and religious importance, but people will probably fall asleep if you read from The Bible. Instead, read a number of important quotes from the Harry Potter series. People will probably be fucking psyched about it, as I know I would be. “Best funeral ever,” they’ll say.
- My eulogy should imply that I was a quiet but very influential member of several prominent bands. The bands do not necessarily have to be named, but slipping song titles into the eulogy (i.e. “Under the Bridge,” “All Star,” “With Arms Wide Open,” etc.) is encouraged.
- Photoshop me into photos with important world leaders. These should be placed surreptitiously around the funeral, and do not need to be mentioned in any speeches; doing so will keep my personal doings shrouded in mystery, like any number of historical characters from one of the National Treasure I should mention that I only want photos with the good world leaders, not pieces of shit like Sadaam Hussein or whichever fat dude is now running North Korea.
- Place a photo of Brad Pitt on top of my casket, as well as a photo of mine. People will probably know that Brad isn’t also being interred, but it’ll make them think twice.
- Have both a dog and a cat at the entrance to the funeral. People can pet whichever they choose, but if they don’t pet either one, then send them the fuck away. They are not welcome at my service.
- At some point, Kid Rock’s “Bawitdaba” must be played while my close friends and family form a mosh pit. This will undoubtedly make them extremely uncomfortable, but I do not care. It will show the big guy upstairs that while I may not have lived the most virtuous life, I do have a sense of humor. “That’s fucking hilarious Adam,” He’ll probably say, and we’ll do some crazy handshake and drink some hot chocolate about it or maybe even a Triple Thick Strawberry Banana milkshake. They must mosh until the song ends, no exceptions.
- There should be a bouncy castle there, but under no circumstances will anybody be allowed on. Seeing a bouncy castle and not being able to go wild on it would be absolutely devastating, and remind the people gathered that even the best things in life can be used as instruments of profound sadness.
There you have it. I believe these requests to be both reasonable and feasible, and there will be serious spiritual repercussions if any of these tasks go undone. If you ever get rained on before an important meeting, or it seems like nothing’s going your way, or a gust of wind blows your sailboat out to sea and you get involved in some sort of daring adventure involving pirates and treasure and damsels in distress and then Tom Hanks plays you in a movie based on that true story, just know the Big Man upstairs and I are cheering you on. Have a good life! I’ll be waiting for you up top.