Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Last Thoughts Before The Firing Squad


I’ll never know how Downton Abbey ends.
If I can come back as a ghost, who would I haunt? Someone I hate? Or someone famous because now I’m basically unfettered by walls or class structure?
What if they miss? What if they just puncture some lungs and I die like a fish?
Am I peeing myself? Are they judging me because I’m peeing myself?
Good job, America. Racing cars is cool everywhere else in the world.  We’re the only ones who made it white trash.
I hope I get reincarnated as a porpoise. Then my tattoo would be ‘prophetic’ and not ‘gay’.
I’ll never know where Majorca is now.
Would a plea of friendship stop this?
I wonder if someone else, at this very moment, somewhere else in the world is about to be riddled with bullets.
Did I ever finish a puzzle?
I really want to get to the bottom of this whole ‘bright light’ thing, so I’m glad I’m dying. Super glad!
Baked Cheetos are good. Like pretty close to the original, right?
I sure made fun of chiropractors a lot.  I’m pretty sorry about that.  They’re good people. As witches go.
Will this hurt worse than a needle? Will this hurt more than a high velocity needle?
Was my dad my dad?  Why didn’t we ever go to Maury and figure this out?
Not on an Olympics year!
Maybe I’m immortal.  I’ve never really tested it out.
I hate organic peanut butter. It tastes like peanut sewage.
Guess I don’t have to get that weird bump checked out.
What ever happened to Mr. Belvedere? Did he ever break the bonds of his servit…