I've never sinned

I have a list of what I would like to happen at my funeral. I think it's perfectly normal...if you grew up Catholic.

Of course the normal stuff would have to occur. All you people would have to come to a proper open casket viewing and say things like, "wow, she's never looked more peaceful" or "she was such an awesome lady" or "I wonder who did her makeup?" (Shan, you've now been in my blog twice.)

I would hope no one would do anything crazy like:

overturn the casket trying to jump in with me.

try to hold my hand when we've never held hands before (dead hands are cold, it's weird, it's creepy, I would never want you to feel uncomfortable.)

put some weird shit in the casket, like a Dwell magazine or something. I'm dead, I can't read and I wouldn't actually care about some lovely, minimalist home no one could ever live in. I'm in heaven. I would hope it's minimalist enough for my taste.

I would hope someone would:

make sure I don't have on panty hose or tights. those suck.

make sure my boobs look perky. (maybe I'd leave this to Jessica. She likes boobs since she thinks she's boob-less. little does she accept, she's lucky. I've told her.)

And finally, I would hope no one would get shit mixed up and play this version of my funeral song: