I can't remember how, but as a typical family discussion ran along, it ended up on me dieing and my obituary. I came to realize, with very little thought, that I couldn't handle all the mistakes that some idiot other than me writing my obituary might make (no offense to any close family members who assumed they'd get the honor of screwing it up). So I figured that it would be best to write one up here and now.
He was a kinda simple guy really, born, lived, and died in the same little town. He slept in the same bed, wore the same kinda awesome jeans (he got a bit stuck in the bootcut fad), brushed the same teeth since he lost last baby tooth at about eight, he even went to the same skool his whole live short life. To sum things up, if given the chance, he sure as anything wouldn't vote for change.
Although he wasn't into changing, he had a solid grasp on where he was...he had this nasty habit of just looking at people with this odd and thoughtful expression on his face...what he was thinking was, "God's great, beer's (ahem, rootbeer's) good, and people are kerazeeee!" He worked very hard on making that the third part of this statement remained well proven and true and even happened to use a blog to document this fact. And then one day...well he died...and since this is an obituary we can't really say why...even though we know you really want to know...it's just against the rules...and you know how people are about rules...
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