Smothered in a prolonged group hug.
Pierced in the forehead by a metallic Ninja hurling star.
In a fall from a high tower, while holding an armload of harpoons.
Blacking out from anesthesia as a group of fat guys close in with spoons.
Crushed by an inexplicable number of doilies.
Gummed to death by malicious old men.
Shot from a cannon onto a long, pointy stick.
Alone, on the subway, holding a potted fern.
And, finally,
Melanoma.
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June 26, 2008 at 3:52 pm
Random Kath
My word, where did you find those little grim reaper pictures? Giving Edward Gorey a run for his money, I see . . .
June 28, 2008 at 8:59 am
Jerry Thomas
Now that you mention it, it is a bit Gashlycrumby.
June 28, 2008 at 10:37 am
Meg
I would prefer not to die listening to that Justin Timberlake song over and over and over.
June 28, 2008 at 7:35 pm
Jerry Thomas
Meg,
I would think that in such a circumstance death would be welcome.
July 2, 2008 at 10:10 am
HAHAKENNY
I like your Nine Ways I Would Prefer Not To Die but here are Nine Ways I Would Prefer Not to be Found Dead:
1. On the Toilet with a clogged bowl movement
2. Drowned in the kiddy pool of a cruise ship
3. Sufficated by a car air bag
4. In the rear seat of a burning car with the child safety locks on
5. With an arrow in my head inside Spensor’s gag shop
6. In front of my computer with porn on the screen
7. Starved to death in a buffet line
8. Choked on an Ice pop
9. Commenting on this bloaarrrrgg……….
July 2, 2008 at 10:38 am
Jerry Thomas
Kenny,
Oddly enough, I find myself in each of these situations almost daily. Death stalks me at every moment. I am constantly on the verge of the Final Exit. I am especially menaced by sinister ice pops.
And yet people wonder why I’m jumpy.