Such a one-track mind
Wednesday, Nov. 30, 2005 at 10:24 a.m.
So Hubster and I were discussing our �wishes�, that is, DNRs and life-lengthening medical techniques, et al, and we pretty much got that squared away, but I also want to share my desires here, so that it�s at least written down in one place.
BONNIE�S LIVING WILL AND STUFF:
DO NOT RESUSCITATE. I am dead. Let me go. Do not hook me up to machines to keep my heart beating and my lungs pumping. If I am pronounced �brain dead� by a doctor or someone who plays a doctor on TV, pull the plug.
I AM AN ORGAN DONOR. And not just a Wurlitzer, either. Harvest anything and everything that can be used by someone else who is, oh, let�s say, living. I�m dead. I don�t need the stuff anymore.
CREMATE ANYTHING THAT�S LEFT OVER. Take a pinch or two of the ashes and smoke them in a big fat doobie at a kegger in my honor. Make sure Jimmy Buffet is played. Once everyone is good and toasted, take my ashes and throw them at people I didn�t like when I was alive. Make sure they know it�s from me. A list of said people with their last known addresses will be placed along with the copy of my will.
Thank you. We now return to this diary, already in progress.
This work done by graduates of Bush�s No Child Left Behind initiative:
Well, like it matters, because the kids going to �shcool� can�t read the damn sign anyway.
I learned to read via phonics, and I hardly remember not being able to read. I was able to sound things out and read fairly well by the time I entered kindergarten. I would sit on my dad�s lap with a Richard Scarry book and sound out everything until I was able to figure out the word. I know that there were other learning to read techniques, including the one where you memorized what a word looked like. I can�t even imagine what life is like for dyslexics. One of the priests at my church is dyslexic as well as fairly hyper so sometimes he�s pretty entertaining as he tries to tear through the different prayers. Once we were all renewing our baptismal vows and he nearly married all of us together because he was on the wrong page in the prayerbook.
And since I�m already bashing Bush:
Heh, heh.
Bush-bashing aside now (yes, I know, quit yer whining) the Royal We (that is, I) have been galumphing along as normal with the exception of a bit of my tummy going all whoopsie that the Hubster blames on the fact that the illustrious Mr. Bush was in the vicinity.
Darn, and here I thought I was beyond Bush-bashing. . . anyhoo, he was in town to speak to our governor re: the border and illegal immigration, etc. You�d think he�d have this whole thing all wrapped up (at least in his mind), since he was the governor of Texas and all. I�m guessing though, that his main focus was on the execution of people.
I thought I was beyond all this. Changing the subject now to ANYTHING, ANYTHING, PLEASE:
Wow, I think this is making my ears bleed. We have Cowboys in Outer Space fighting the Nazis. I wonder if this is the kind of thing that Bush dreams about.
Cripes. I�m leaving for now to go supplement my medication. Ta!