What I want my grave marker to say…

“I was never a big fan of pimentos.” (Christina Jasmine Ross. 7/7/77 – some date that isn’t now)

why? because i think that this phrase kinda sums up the human existence. we’re all not a fan of something, right? i love olives. love em so much i’ve been burping olive taste for a whole day. i like martinis because they’re full of drunken olives. but i hate pimentos. i eat them, the same way i’ve done all my life–suck’em down like people eat oysters. so that i can pretend they weren’t ever there. and then? meaty, nutty, salty, sour olive.
and i like this grave marker moreover because it doesn’t say that explanation. that some random person is going to wander through a cemetery one day, past their grandparents perhaps, past tombs aplenty with sage words and then come upon mine. “I was never a big fan of pimentos.”
because some humor should exist in cemeteries, right? to hell with all this solemn reverence. when i’m dead, i’m going to be just as snarky as i was alive. i’m going to be 6 feet lower, grant you, but i’ll guarantee, one truth remains–the truth i posted on my marker:
“I was never a big fan of pimentos.”
it’s not about faith or eternal salvation. it’s just me. and it’s honest. the way i like to be.

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3 Comments

  1. Fun post … thanks for a good read!

  2. We’re thinking of having the “I’m with Stupid” fingers to point at each other. There’s a lot of trust that goes into making THAT kind of decision. I mean, if I die first and have “I’m with Stupid” pointing at his site, then whoever takes care of his funeral DOESN”T do the same, I look like a jerk for all eternity. More than anything I want some mat planted just under the last layer of dirt that activates a voice recording “Hey! Watch where you’re going. That hurts! Get offa me!”

    • i can only dream of finding a life partner who would be screwy enough to “get” me, much less that. and it is my goal.


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