When I die?
Chuck me out of a moving car, as you drive recklessly through the hell zone of San Francisco.
Make sure I’m RIPE and READY and so dissolved that my body splatters and explodes, as you toss it out on the street going 55 MPH.
Let the rat and the pigeon feed upon me.
When I die …
Take me up in a CESSNA to about 7,000 feet and drop me on WA DC. Have a streamer attached to my body that reads: TAXES PAID IN FULL! Try to hit the WA monument, so that my body explodes on the tip, just the tip …
When I die …
I want all my parts harvested, and dried out, turned into a powder, and sold in China Town.
(I don’t care how racist that sounds)
(I’m dead)
When I am no longer here …
I’ll drink beer with Gabriel and smoke weed with Jeremiah.
I’ll spend all day reading the ancient texts, and then “show up” and SCARE YOU, like a ghost … but I’ll have the most joy when you’re naked in the bathroom, lathering your boobies.
We had Fantasy Island …
What about FENTANYL ISLAND?