Sorry this article is not about the BOC song

This weekend I walked passed several Goth kids. I could only assume they were heading to the graveyard to write poems about death and how pointless life is. I didn’t judge since I was on my way to spoil my liver and destroy myself one internal organ at a time.

The image of those kids dressed all in black, hanging out at a cemetery kept haunting my head. I soon began to think about death myself. I wasn’t thinking about it a morbid way, well not completely morbid; it is death after all, there’s bound to be some morbidity. I was thinking about it more in a fun way. I was considering the coolest ways to go. Ways that would make someone look twice when they read it in the obituaries. So here they are: The top 5 ways I’d like to die.

 Strike first, strike hard, no mercy

#5: Assassinated by a Ninja

First of all being assassinated in general would by a good way to go. It would be quick, you would never see it coming, and it usually means that you would be of some importance. Assassinated by a ninja would be better simply because ninjas are awesome.

The only down side to this, other than the dying part, is the ninja that assassinated me was a good ninja, then there would be no way to know that I was actually killed by a ninja. Look at the facts. A good ninja would leave no trace of being there. Witnesses would not be left. What exactly would an autopsy show from a ninja attack? A stab wound or a broken neck?

So it would be cool if after I died I found out how it happened, but to fulfill the criteria I set above, the part about someone reading it in the obituary section, then it wouldn’t be as cool. At least it would be quick.

Thanks to Limon for this idea.

 Just to add insult to injury it’s Canadian

#4: Killed by a Hockey Puck

The standard hockey puck is made of hard rubber and travels faster than cars on a freeway. It’ll break a plate of glass like a football team running through a giant poster. Hit at the right trajectory and my skull could easily be shattered.

The best part about dying this way is that I know I would have spent the last moments of my life involved with something I love, hockey. There’s also a good chance that if it happened at a pro game the team would do something to honor my memory. Sure I’d be dead, but Joe Sakic would know of me.

I want ot take something beautiful and destroy it 

#3: A Bare Knuckle Fist Fight

I’m picturing something like “Fight Club.” Not so much in a sanctioned atmosphere, but the same basic principle, just a one on one brawl. No weapons, just fist. Perhaps I’d be defending the honor of a lovely woman. It would have to be a descent a fight. I couldn’t go down quickly like Glass Joe. I would have to have fucked up my opponent something fierce.

I have never been in a fistfight. I’m sure that if I were in one like I mention above, I’m sure that death would be better than living out the pain that would follow. Or the humiliation, or jail time that a fight could bring on. Also it would leave a good story for anyone who saw it. The next time they saw a fight they would be like, “That fight was lame. I once saw I man get killed in a fight.”

The best way for this scenario to play out would be if the fight were with Max Fightmaster.

 They’re retard strong

#2: Mauled by Zombies

I believe the book of Revelations, in the Bible, tells of zombies rising up and over throwing the population. Or maybe it was a book by George A. Romero. I often mix those two up. Regardless of where I read it, it is bound to happen.

When it does happen I hope that I die in that first wave. Knowing what kind of people we have on this planet, fighting off zombie could go on for a long ass time. Also there could be that awkward moment when my best friend is part of the zombie platoon penetrating my stronghold, and in order to survive I’d have to shoot him in the face.

 “Like a horse, I’ll fucking eat you!”

#1: Killed by Dinosaur(s)

Obviously this is only a possibility if someone figured out how to make “Jurassic Park” a reality. I heard some scientists are close. I heard that from my cousin, he also has a friend who has a hover board.

I could just imagined looking at this incredible creature. Being in complete awe of the monster that existed. Being slightly terrified, but then remembering Denver the Last Dinosaur from my youth, he was a friend and so much more. Then the giant mouth of the tyrannosaurus would descend upon me. Its teeth would tar me apart like the most-tender piece of meat I had ever enjoyed. My torso making it’s way down its gullet while my lower half dropped to the earth and lay there motionless.

My obituary would be something like that. Different if it were the velociraptors that did me in. But God forbid I get spit on and eaten by the dilophosaurus. That would be less dignified.

Well, those are the ways I’d like to go. I’ll probably end up dying from heart disease or colon cancer. But a man can dream can’t he? Although I have put this kind of thought into death, I want to make it clear that I do enjoy living. So there’s no need to worry, or call in counseling.

Conformist!

See you at the pearly gates . . .

lee.s.hart@crujonessociety.com

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