Last time, we learned how dying could be an extremely pleasant experience. We all giggled at it’s inevitability; burst to guffaws at life’s ephemeral and transient nature; and gushed with the realization that our existence in this sad mortal coil is pointless.
Once you kick off, depending on which idol you worship, you’d either be on your way to the pearly gates, reincarnated as a table or be rewarded handsomely in the afterlife for crashing a hijacked plane into a building.
Long after you’re gone, your huge gambling debts and all the illegitimate children you sired will forever haunt your posterity and cause them generations upon generations of financial suffering.
There’s only one way to prevent this from happening: and that is through a last will and testament. Most people are unaware of wills until it’s too late and miss out on all the great merriment that comes with creating one. If you think making one is boring and not worth your while, let me show you my last will and testament and you’ll be dancing to a different tune in no time.
Heya!
If you are reading this then I am either dead or I have gotten so rich and famous that I’m faking my own death because I want to retire to a tropical island I bought where natives have constructed a granite altar in my honor and offer the blood of virgins in adoration of me. If the case was the former, Do not cry for me, for I have been dead a long time ago and my corpse is probably decomposing somewhere in the basement. Given that I am dead, I would like the following items executed because you know, this is my will and people are supposed to do what it says or I’m supposed to haunt you or something.
-Michael Joseph Villar
CEO(Just play along)
Mr. Brown has sicced enough literary abominations on the world and I want the UN or whatever to call a moratorium on everything he does that involves writing.
If you cannot get the UN to act, please send out an Israeli assasin and make him stop. Stop and suffer. He can do this by kidnapping him and cutting off one of his fingers everyday. Once he runs out of fingers, he can carve rough finger-like digits out of his palms. After he runs out of those, he can carve finger-like digits from his wrists. Do this until there’s nothing left to carve.
I know for a fact that you people are all for free biscuits, coffee or whatever but please do not have it over my corpse. I didn’t die or fake my death so I could be the reason for you to get together and gamble, get drunk or whatever the fuck it is you do on funerals. I refuse to lie in a really uncomfortable coffin in a church where people I barely know lie about how much I am loved and how great a person I was to my grotesquely disfigured and already rotting face. I get it okay? You hate me, and I hate you so don’t fucking bother.
Here’s how I want my body to be disposed of: Cremate me and sprinkle my ashes over Pau’s breakfast. I’m sure you guys’ll get a laugh or two from that.
I would like all my stuff to be buried with me to ensure that my relatives and people I owe money to can’t find them. Also, I might need money in the afterlife. I mean the Greeks used to place two coins on the eyes of their dead so they could pay the ferry guy to take them across Hades right? This is a sign that there’s trade going on in the afterlife. It’s probably going to be a long trip under a tunnel or something so when I get to where ever the fuck it is I’m going, the first thing I’d want would be a beer. Also, who knows? There might be souls of dead prostitutes whose services I want to avail and they’d let me have anal sex with them. Because God knows you never wanted me to stick it in there, future wife! I hope you’re happy with all the debts I left you and the kids. Bitch.
Don’t believe the rumors. I didn’t hang myself with a belt. I was murdered. Whether I deserved to be murdered because I didn’t give him the respect he thought he deserved or I got on his case for using funny photoshopped pictures too much is out of the question, but I’m pretty sure Coco murdered me. Hey, I’m dead and this is my will so JUST DO IT, he looks really weird and uses Adobe Photoshop 6.
Mike "Fucking" Villar
"a Manila-based blogger made famous by his Atrocities of Friendster series, a regular feature he publishes on his blog where he mercilessly criticizes and mocks pictures of ugly people he stumbles upon on popular social networking site, Friendster. Although a lot of people are offended by what he writes, long-time readers of his blog regard him as a brilliant satire writer."
-Taken from my WikiBios page
