I'd want a funeral, but I'm more concerned about making sure the liquor is right than the ceremony.

I want a wake. But no viewing. Party party party. Make a CD of VH-1's top 100 1 hit wonders, play it to death and dance and tell stories. Everyone wear a tiara.

-t is not invited.

Eek. I have a phobia about the Ashes... (Don't ask me why...they don't make sense, right? Phobias?)

Yeah, my mom was the same way. We were under severe threat of hauntage if the idea even came up (dating back to long before it became an issue).

I could care less, as long as no-one puts me in one of those super expensive, crappy looking urns. Get me something from MoMA, or an old metal lunchbox or something.

I want my ashes to be baked into doggie treats and given to wolves.

If I thought it was legal, I'd forgo the ash part and say, "dump me off in a remote area of Yellowstone and don't look back."

no-one puts me in one of those super expensive, crappy looking urns.

Amen.

I want my ashes to be shot into space. Some part of me is getting out of this frelling gravity well, dammit.

(Don't ask me why...they don't make sense, right? Phobias?)

It's okay, erika. I understand. I frequently have to remind people who don't understand my phobias that they're phobias.... they are, by definition, irrational.

Get me something from MoMA, or an old metal lunchbox or something.

Howabout something from Crate & Barrel?

Ikea?

an old metal lunchbox or something

I wonder what happened to my H.R. Pufinstuf lunch box.

There's a Swedish process (just being tested) where they freeze-dry you, pulverize you, and use you as fertilizer. Much less wasteful than cremation.

I would LOVE to do that. Plant an apple tree over me, for preference.

Ikea?

Maybe Ikea could make a new necro line made from human bones and cleverly held together with little dowels.

Yeah, that would be ok.

In other news, I am highly suggestible, and now own the Flogging Molly cd that Connie was listening to earlier.