Planning for the Future.

There is no avoiding the fact that we are all going to die. I've been to a few funerals, and the one thing that is common at all of them is people crying like bitches. It's outright annoying that I am trying to listen to the preacher talk about the deceased life and what is in store for them in the next, and this assholes keeps balling and drawing attention to themselves. Nobody should dare cry at my funeral and take the final attention I'll ever get off of me. There are some fail safes that I am going to have at my funeral to ensure that bullshit criers don't spoil it.

First thing that needs to go is the organ, piano, or whatever musical instrument they may have. Those instruments blow harder than whores on meth. I've never listened to those instruments so why the hell should I have them played at my funeral? I want a motherfucking DJ equipped with lights and smoke! If you are attending, you won't have to fear sitting through song after rustic song, you'll be jamming out to "Paradise City" by Guns'n'Roses as they walk my casket up. Anyone caught crying will be pummeled by security using my limbs as blunt striking tools.

Don't worry about the eulogy portion, because there's not going to be one. Eulogies are bullshit because they are almost the same cut and paste speech, and who really appreciates them? I just want this portion of my funeral omitted, and have everyone just pound back some beers. In fact, it would be awesome if everyone at my funeral got shit faced! That way people could say their final goodbyes and be truthful without the rehearsed dialogue they came up with in the car ride over.

Another flaw that I find in funerals is that the deceased is placed inside the casket in a suite... that's it. Where did our tradition of burying someone with money and earthly possessions come to an end. I know, it was when some greedy dick came up with inheritance. Fuck that. Give me an Armani suite, a crown and stuff all my valued possessions into that damn box with me. I'm not going to leave an inheritance. I earned all my stuff, and I sure as hell am going to take it with me. I'm a proponant of hard work and anyone who wants what I have can dip their ball sack in a vice clamp.

When everyone is drunk off their ass, the final entertainment for the evening could be trying to carry my casket out of the church without spilling me all over my loved ones.

Of course, I don't want to be put in the ground and left with all the other mundane bodies. I would rather have all my possessions burned and my body donated to science so that studies could be made on how to better improve the gene pool using me as the example.

Things You Learn Growing Up in the Country.

You can learn a lot by living in exclusion from civilization. I have had my share of life lessons simply by living in the woods. Some were no brainers, but others I could have only learned through experience. Here are some of the lessons learned.

· Don't wear steel toed boots when stirring up the fire with your foot

· If you sleep naked, eventually a mosquito will bite you on the penis. It happens.

· If bow hunting for a bear, wear running shoes.

· If you have been fishing all day and have not caught anything, go to the store, buy one and lie about it.

· You ARE NOT Dale Earnhardt

· Deer hate mankind, so eat them.

· If your trusty dog is anything less than a golden retriever, you are retarded.

· Carhartts are trendy all year round.

· Who needs to comb their hair? That's why God gave us hats.

· No shoes, no shirt = no job

· Women find calloused hands to be invigorating

· The sleeves on tee-shirts make excellent oil rags since you had to tear them off anyways.

· If your friend calls his SUV a truck, you are obligated to correct his sorry ass in any physically appropriate fashion.

· If you pour whiskey into your gas tank just to say it burns alcohol, you are the honorary dipshit of the day.

· Foreign beer is a myth, drink American.

· Unless you are a woman, a biker, or sporting a kick ass mullet, keep your hair short. Damn hippie.

· Hot sauce tastes great on ice cream and cereal. Try it.

· A burly chest of hair works well as a winter coat. If lost in the wood (which is impossible for me) I could burn it an make smoke signals.

· If you flex really really hard, the nearest squirrel will explode.

If some of these sound too fantastic to be true, it is because country living is fantastic. After all, HICK stands for Herculean Incarnated Country Kin. Don't believe me? Prove me wrong.