Through no fault of my own I’ve been to a number of funerals lately, and with all the grieving aside (because that’s something far too private to blog about even for me) it has got me thinking about when I’m eventually lowered.
When one of my dear friends passed away late last year it was noted that it was difficult to do anything per his wishes because he didn’t have a will. It’s not something I thought about before but having seen the run of things recently there are a number of elements I would like to control. Until I get the chance to draw up a will proper I may as well outline them here.
– Don’t play Robbie Williams’ Angels.
– Don’t let anyone comment on the history of shit jobs I’ve had, if you have to read out a biography of sorts then make it about my conquests and achievements.
– Make sure the front row is family, and the second row is beautiful women weeping.
– Please play Procol Harum’s Whiter Shade Of Pale & The Smiths’ Asleep plus anything fitting to how I died.
– Make sure I am buried with items I’ll need in the after life. Ideally I’d like £160, a bottle of Jack Daniels, Catcher In The Rye, a set of guitar strings, a Parker pen.
I should really actually get this off to a solicitor.