I Don't Want to Die Doing Something I Love

Like Earl Pitts, the redneck radio personality, I take issue when I go to a funeral and people stand up and say, "At least he died doing what he loves." As if it's some kind of consolation and as if he would've wanted it that way. I say that's bunk! We work too dogone hard, working 8-12 hour days for jerk of a boss for almost no money, or I study too hard before my tests and nearly kill myself during them to just up and die when I finally get to go surfing with the dolphins at the beach or lace up those bowlin' shoes again. I'll tell you right now, I do not want that to happen to me.

As a matter a fact, the opposite is true. When I'm standing there in the lab, getting high on formaldehyde, stumped out of my mind as to what I'm looking at on the cadaver in an anatomy practical and realizing I'm gonna fail; hell, I wouldn't mind if I just slumped over right then and joined the guy. At the very least I wouldn't have to worry about the test and they could even use me on the next exam. It'd be nice to be on the other side of things for once. I'd be like, "you ain't gonna get this point kid, I got a Buccopharyngeal nerve like you ain't never seen before!" Then I'd laugh real hard to myself. Or if I got pulled over by cop for speeding for the third time in a row, I wouldn't mind if the good Lord took me right then and the cop found me keeled over the steering we'll.

So I don't mind dying. I ain't even afraid of it, cause the good Lord has got place for us. Just don't take me when I'm enjoying myself.

Thank goodness midterms are over! I'm going to take a shower, towel off, and then go play some volleyball! (really). If I die, you'd better say I was ticked off!