This old thing
Nashville is Talking seems to always be broken. The main page seems to work but comments are often screwed up and permalinks to individual posts are often broken. Anyway, if this link works, Brittney’s asking what do you want done with your body when you die.
I figure, I could care less. Told the wife she could just put me in a Hefty Cinch Sack and put me on the curb. I figure I’ll either be busy not existing, trying to figure out how they made a road out of gold, or tagging virgin number 12 by the time my funeral comes around. In short, not real concerned.
But, at my funeral, I’d rather have a party. No crying, no sobbing. Heck, get a keg. Better yet, have a life size cardboard cut out of me holding an ice cold beer so people can have their picture taken with the dead guy.