Oh, great. Now I have a blog! Now I have to take care of it every day! Writing as if everybody in the world will read it when probably nobody in the world will.
Monday, May 05, 2008
His last case of beer
6 comments:
Anonymous
said...
Well, okay, this is the second time today someone's brought this story to my attention. I guess you've gotta give credit that he's not taking himself too seriously.
I've long said that when my time comes, they (whoever THEY might be) can just get some of those super Hefty or Glad bags and set me out by the curb, as at that point, I'm of absolutely no use to any surviving mortals. Boxing me up in fine hardwoods (or even a cheap pine coffin) with brass, chrome, or stainless steel trim, planting me in the ground and putting a nice marble or granite marker overhead/overfoot won't make a tinker's dam (whatever that is) bit of difference in what I did or didn't accomplish in this earthly life.
He who made us and knows the number of hairs on our heads also knows the number of heartbeats or breaths we will take. We don't. So, I figure my best bet is to try to spend as much time as I can, living as He instructed us, being as good a Dad, friend, husband (when the time comes), son, and co-worker that I can be. Hopefully, something in the way I comport myself will lead others, as I have also been led, to a closer walk with Him.
I don't particularly take isse with the guy customizing his final resting place, though my cultured side does beg to cry out and ask "Why PBR?" I mean, really, why not a replica of a fine bottle of 30 year old single-malt Scotch? But, as usual, I digress.
So, when I'm gone, either stuff me in a Cinch-Sack, or, cremate me and mix me with some of Ecuador's finest, and auction me off to Keith Richards (he'll probably still be touring long after I'm gone...) for some good cause.
I like D²'s observation. Yeah, it's pretty declasse to be buried in a beer can. But I bet there's someone here in Texas already orderin' hisself a Lone Star or, perish the thought, a Pearl Lite casket. And hey, why stop there? If you can get your mortician to curl you up in a fetal position before rigor mortis sets in, how 'bout a big ol' Copenhagen can casket, huh?
It'd be interesting to see how many get the option of having the lid lined with a velvet Elvis, or a likeness of dogs playing poker, for a slight added charge.
I have to say that, irrespective of the, uh, nobility or lack of same esconced in the notion of a beer bier, the workmanship and paint job look really good!
This just cracked me up! I see so many things that my mind has a hard time sorting it all out. I see a pool stick leaning against a filing cabinet. Is it a bar? There's lots of alcohol, a Christmas tree...and a doctor???
I've always said that when I go want a party thrown, not some sad affair. This would certainly go with the "party" theme. Unfortunately one of my relatives would try to put a tap in it.
6 comments:
Well, okay, this is the second time today someone's brought this story to my attention. I guess you've gotta give credit that he's not taking himself too seriously.
I've long said that when my time comes, they (whoever THEY might be) can just get some of those super Hefty or Glad bags and set me out by the curb, as at that point, I'm of absolutely no use to any surviving mortals. Boxing me up in fine hardwoods (or even a cheap pine coffin) with brass, chrome, or stainless steel trim, planting me in the ground and putting a nice marble or granite marker overhead/overfoot won't make a tinker's dam (whatever that is) bit of difference in what I did or didn't accomplish in this earthly life.
He who made us and knows the number of hairs on our heads also knows the number of heartbeats or breaths we will take. We don't. So, I figure my best bet is to try to spend as much time as I can, living as He instructed us, being as good a Dad, friend, husband (when the time comes), son, and co-worker that I can be. Hopefully, something in the way I comport myself will lead others, as I have also been led, to a closer walk with Him.
I don't particularly take isse with the guy customizing his final resting place, though my cultured side does beg to cry out and ask "Why PBR?" I mean, really, why not a replica of a fine bottle of 30 year old single-malt Scotch? But, as usual, I digress.
So, when I'm gone, either stuff me in a Cinch-Sack, or, cremate me and mix me with some of Ecuador's finest, and auction me off to Keith Richards (he'll probably still be touring long after I'm gone...) for some good cause.
Are they planning to leave that up on blocks in his front yard after he is dressed up in his best wife-beater tank top and placed inside?
I like D²'s observation. Yeah, it's pretty declasse to be buried in a beer can. But I bet there's someone here in Texas already orderin' hisself a Lone Star or, perish the thought, a Pearl Lite casket. And hey, why stop there? If you can get your mortician to curl you up in a fetal position before rigor mortis sets in, how 'bout a big ol' Copenhagen can casket, huh?
It'd be interesting to see how many get the option of having the lid lined with a velvet Elvis, or a likeness of dogs playing poker, for a slight added charge.
I have to say that, irrespective of the, uh, nobility or lack of same esconced in the notion of a beer bier, the workmanship and paint job look really good!
This just cracked me up! I see so many things that my mind has a hard time sorting it all out. I see a pool stick leaning against a filing cabinet. Is it a bar? There's lots of alcohol, a Christmas tree...and a doctor???
I've always said that when I go want a party thrown, not some sad affair. This would certainly go with the "party" theme. Unfortunately one of my relatives would try to put a tap in it.
Dew
Dew, wasn't that your college fraternity, I Tappa Keg?
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