Well, nobody came to my funeral . . . AGAIN. If people don’t start coming I’m just going to stop having them. These things aren’t cheap guys! I put a lot of work into them hoping everyone will have a good time. Last year I had a Hawaiian themed funeral and it would have been a blast if anyone had bothered to show up. Everyone would have gotten a a coconut bra and the casket was rotating on a spit. Do you know how hard it is to lay in a rotating coffin?! I had three anxiety attacks. The thing that really bothers me this year is that a lot of people responded to the E-vite, so I really had my hopes up. I’m ready to hear all about how much you guys admired me and wished we’d hung out more. Instead here I am, laying in a coffin, bored out of mind. There might be some girls out there who always had a crush on me but that’s the kind of info that only comes out at funerals. Also, I am convinced that Jake Hillard stole my Golden State Warriors winter jacket and we all know, funerals are your only chance to admit when you stole something from the recently expired. As soon as he brings it up BANG, I jump from the coffin and yell: “Ha ha, I’m not dead, I was just insecure. But not anymore, suckers.” Because in the end, that’s all life really is: keeping our feelings to ourselves and stealing sports memorabilia from our friends. It takes someone dying for us to reveal how badly we wanted to have sex with them and how much we liked their stuff. Sad but true. But it doesn’t have to be. I could quit having funerals if people would just be a little bit more honest about how awesome they think I am. You don’t need to be standing around a grave for you tell me how much you’d like to see me with my clothes off. You can tell me at the laundry mat or at the bar or at the Golden State Warriors game. Anywhere is fine. Same goes for if you stole something from me. Just tell me, I won’t be mad. But seriously, whoever took my crock pot, I need it back. My pot luck dinners have been bullshit lately and everyone knows it.