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Karma Girl's Excellent Last Will and Testament

Okay, I’ve had a few drinks, so bear with me. First thing’s first: Open Bar. I want an open bar at my funeral/wake/memorial service. Whatever you want to do is fine, just make sure there’s an open bar. I don’t give a shit if alcohol is a depressant. OPEN. FUCKING. BAR!
Maiden name is Griffin, bitches!


Things I would like, but if you can’t do, no biggie:
1. I want to be cremated. It’s the cheapest route and personally I don’t like the idea of my friends and family members crying over my decaying corpse. I’d like for at least some of those ashes to be used to plant a tree or something like that. Not because I’m a pagan or anything. I just feel like I’ve been pretty useless in life. Might as well put my dead ass to work helping the carbon ratio or whatever the hell it’s called.
No, seriously. This is a thing.
2. I haven’t lost total faith in God. Yet. He took my dad and little sister, but who knows? Maybe they really have gone to a better place. I will allow a minister of my husband’s, mother’s, or sister’s choosing. Please don’t get into a fight over it. If there is a disagreement regarding the minister, either play Rock Paper Scissors Lizard Spock (the rules for which can be found here) or use the minister for Kelli’s funeral.
Or fight to the death. Whatever.
3. I want at least one friend or family member to dress in the cosplay of their choosing and do an Irish jig at my funeral/wake/whatever. It will amuse me. Or, if the Atheists are right, it won’t amuse me, as I will be a corpse devoid of feeling. But if I were alive, it would totally fucking amuse me so do it anyway.
It could be worse. Trust me.
4. My husband gets first pick of all my books. Mom gets second. My sister Tammy and her husband Larry get third pick. My friend Neesa gets fourth. Anything left should be donated to the library or Peter Dinklage. I realize Peter Dinklage is not really Tyrion Lannister, but it would just be awesome so let’s just go with it.
Damn straight.
5. I want everyone mourning me to contribute at least one dollar to whatever Democrat runs against Trump, Pence, or whatever monster is running on the Republican ticket on the presidential election of my demise. My vote didn’t count for shit in life. You bastards are going to make up for it or I will FUCKING HAUNT YOU! No seriously. Fuck Trump.
You mother fuckers owe me.
6. Something, something, something...dark side.
7. A pony. Wait. That was for my birthday. Fuck it. Too much Korbel.
Um...never mind.
8. I want everyone mourning me to do something nice for a total stranger. Give a dollar to a bum on the street. Help someone move. Pat someone on the back and say, “Nice job!” I don’t care. Make someone feel good about themselves. I don’t think I did much of that in life. Do it now so you don’t have to ask some poor schmuck to do it for you to feel better about your eventual demise.
Like totes, man!
That’s all I can think of for now. But I’m serious about the open bar. Like for reals.



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