“No, you know what? I want people to miss me. My death should be a big deal. I want my family crying. I want my manager to beg God to let him trade somebody else. I hope my ex-girlfriends show up and lament that they should have given me head more often. I want the president in the front row signing a cloning bill so that he can get more of me out there as soon as damned possible. None of this happy funeral bullcrap. Miss me and know it’s never going to be that good again.”
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