them to make sure i’m dead

the harlem globetrotters to give my eulogy, stating that i was the greatest opponent they had ever faced

to be roasted by some of the assholes from the friars club

a stealth bomber to fly over my grave

nickelback to perform “how you remind me”

the police to catch the guy who did it

good [...]

i should join a cult.

i’m so bad in bed, i tried one of those love testers and ended up apologizing to it afterwards.

i was so ugly that, after my parents explained to me where babies came from, they had to sit me down and explain where i came from.