I pulled over for a long funeral procession during lunch today. It was achingly slow. Stately. Dignified. Respect was so thick it was oozing in the air. I wondered if this person's death was at all like the parade to the cemetery. Did they fight their death, cry, or scream? Were they afraid? Or did they accept it and shrug with the aplomb we'd all
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Why am I waiting for a dead person, huh?
Get directions to the graveyard and drive your sad ass without screwing up everyone else's schedules. When I die, none of that shit will happen. You make sure of it, Malone. You're in charge. No processions. Just hand out little maps and say, "See you when we get there."
Encourage people to stop and get something to eat or drink if they'd like.
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And your funeral's gonna be off da hook.
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I've been a part of one of those once. I remember it was the longest procession ever. It was for my Uncle who commited suicide. We drove from Harrah, Oklahoma all the way out to somewhere at least an hour away.
The family members in front of us were literally driving in the middle of the road to force on-coming traffic to get off on the shoulder.
Nobody cares! It's what people do. They die.
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And yous gots ta have some high stepp'n horses.. We can hold up traffic for hours.
I can't wait till you die!
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So happy you're happy at the thought of my (stylish) demise!!!
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