(Photo stolen from these guys)
Oh my GAHHHHHHHHH I did it again. I freaked you out, didn't I?
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.
Gotten a few e-mails, IMs, even a phone call. I really do have stuff on my mind, but I'm fine. It's really more the frustration of not being able to say completely what I need to say, here, on my blog. PLEASE tell me you understand what I mean, so I don't think you think I'm suicidal?
I'm NOT suicidal. I'm totally fine and happy. Except for a face on fire, which is almost better, and which I'll explain soon, if I remember.
(You KNEW there was a "but," didn't you?)
my sudden onset of accidental morbidity got me thinking about death.* What if the worst should happen?
No, I don't meant that the Napa Valley burns to the ground and we are all forced to drink paint thinner . . . I mean, MORE paint thinner.
I mean, the worst in MY world, which would be that I tripped over one cat too many, hit my head and met my maker, who looks surprisingly a lot like RonCo in this bright white light . . . what if I died?
The blog would come to an end, but would Chas even know how to tell my on-line friends? Probably not. Would there be a funeral, or -- more my style -- a doughnut exchange?
I'M NOT DYING (as far as I know), but here is a challenge for you. Pick one of these three:
1. Foolery's inscription on the headstone and/or paper plate tacked above the sink hole
2. Foolery's eulogy, Twitter style (140 characters/spaces, max)
3. What song should be playing as Foolery's coffin (a refrigerator carton from behind Sears) is paraded through the street of Orland? Yes, I wrote street singular; it wasn't a mistake.
Pick one and run with it -- have fun! I may as well enjoy my own death before I die, right? Also, I'm not dying.
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*I realized just as I finished this that I may also have picked up the whole "death as schtick" thing from a recent post by one of my favorite bloggers, Kathi at I Think We're All Bozos On This Bus. Yes, I know. That IS the single-best blog name in the history of the planet. And No, I didn't mean to steal her theme, but it must be a subliminal homage.