One-liners and A Funeral

Ted Kennedy's funeral has inspired me. Get thoughts of selfless service to the community out of your head; that's not my thing. No, good ol' Teddy has made me think about my own funeral and how it's going to happen. This is as close to a last will and testament as I'm going to get, because when I shuffle off this mortal coil I want all my shit burned and the ashes placed in my coffin. It's mine, I'm taking it with me.

The funeral procession will need to start in Brighton; since they'll probably find my body in my apartment after no one has seen me for a few days (drinking binge, head wound, the details bore me), I figure this makes the most sense. From Brighton I want to be taken down Boylston Street followed by Newbury Street. Make a few passes, I want one last look at the stores and restaurants where I spent my youth and parents' money.

Now while the "Lion of the Senate" laid in repose in Dorchester (Kennedys love to slum it), I will lie in pose at the Atrium in Copley Place. Make it something classy but fun; I'm picturing me sitting on a bench with a 40 in one hand, cigarette in the other. If you can light it, even better. After that just place me in my solid gold casket with Louis Vitton lining and the burnt remains of my earthly possessions and call it a day.

Also, please make sure Hillary Clinton and Obama are present? I don't want them to speak, and if you can put them in the back even better, but I just want Obama to kiss Hillary on the cheek and have her whisper to him again. We all know what you said Hillary when he pulled that move on you at Teddy's send off - "I will still take you down bitch." He looked scared too, he knows you mean it.

Before these words materialized here, I voiced them to my mother, who stood up slowly and left the room. When I asked her where she was going, she responded "I'm going to watch this in the other room, you're being too disrespectful." Funny, I thought Ted would've approved.