The Long-Short of it:
PLAN YOUR OWN FUNERAL ADISC! WHAT DO YOU WANT IT TO BE LIKE?
The Short-Long of it (Absolutely worth your time reading if you need some explanation or justification of the above challenge):
Homies! One day you will all die. Probably not all on the same day, but some day each individual one of you is going to be entirely less alive than you are as of reading this. Bummer right? Totally. Being ever the optimist, however, I personally refuse to let this news give me the blues and as such choose to make the best of the situation. If I'm gonna go out, I want it to be a big deal, savvy?
Now I'm not talking about death wishes (although if I could choose how I would die, it would be by parachuting into the mouth of a shark, dynamite strapped to my body causing a massive most excellent eruption of gore at open sea) - I'm talking about the more final finale - THE FUNERAL.
Being a brainwashed, obedient little cog in the egotistical, narcissistic, social-media identity generation, I find that other peoples' opinion on me is highly influential on how I feel about myself and because of that, I feel compelled to go to unhealthy lengths to influence, correct and manipulate those opinions for my benefit. Using stuff like facebook, I can, to some degree, control how people see Slang the person today. But what about when I'm dead?
And so, THE THREAD POINT - I aim to put on the most better than best funeral for myself ever so that when people look back they say, "Man, Slang was the most radical dude I ever had the pleasure of being near, even in death". Being that I intend to be buried on property owned by my estate, those same people who then feel obligated to visit my grave (or rather, just want to cause "he was so gnarly!") can be charged a ticket. Groovy.
SO ANYWAYS, I'm planning my funeral. It's gonna be top notch. The menu is all chessecake, a video of my life will be accompanied by the song "Bloodmeat" by Protest the Hero, while my casket will be carried out to the tune of "Storm the Gates of Hell" by Demon Hunter. At the reception, clips of the Big Lebowski will played with Between the Buried and Me's albums "Colors" and "The Great Misdirect" being played over the audio to see if they sink up. I have no real reason to believe that they will, but I'm curious about it. I just don't want to spend my own time discovering the truth, but that doesn't mean its not important to me. Following nine hours of eulogies delivered by friends who must be in characters as members of the Rat Pack, my Will shall be read to the entirety of those gathered and present. Here I will describe in detail how I think a Powerpuff Girls movie could be done quite well in the girls are in high school, Tina Fey writes the script and the director rips off Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Chevy Chase would play the mayor, Tim Curry would play Him, and as suggested by my brother, Bob Saget would play the professor. After this, it will be announced that my considerable wealth has been stashed away and buried and the first clue will be announced as to where it all is. Like that movie you saw once, but cooler. And with boss fights no doubt. Boss fights with the surviving members of No Doubt, that is. Being that most of my money will actually have been spent on making sure the treasure hunt is mega stellar, the final prize will mostly just be an empty suitcase full of metaphors and self-realizations. There will be no kool-aid or Toblerones serves at my wedding, as these properties are owned by a cigarette parent company and there will be no bad ju-ju at my wedding. Finally, a massive Homestar Runner-themed mural shall be paint in my honour on the side of a building it doesn't suit at all. And so, I go out with style.
YOUR TURN ADISC! REMEMBER, FUNERAL IS JUST A MIXED UP OF SPELLING "REAL FUN"!