I'm Not Even Hungry

Morbidity Watch

Today, NPR had a report on an 83-year-old resident of a retirement community who has recently taken up the adorably disturbing hobby of obituary writing. He started out with himself, apparently not trusting his children to realize the overwhelming life of an advertising executive. Finding that he had a taste for the subject, he decided to offer his services to other retirees in his neighborhood. Since he know turns a tidy profit from his literary skills, I see no reason why I shouldn't be able to do the same. Sen(i)or OldGuy may have his demographic market covered, but that just leaves younger ages ripe for the plucking. We're the most valued group for every other kind of product, so we should have the obits covered as well.

The dirty little secret of obituary writing, one I learned earlier this year while helping to write my grandmother's, is that they all follow the same formula. Sure, the really famous get more extensive treatment, but for 99% of the population, all the obit writer has to do is copy-paste the right names in the right places.

The problem, for college kids at least, comes from this format. It emphasizes marriage, careers, and kids, otherwise known as all the stuff that constitutes life, which is also known as the thing we haven't lived yet. But, this can be overcome. In fact, it has been overcome. By me. Below, I present an example of the ObitModel3000: College Edition. I haven't trademarked it yet, and I wouldn't know how to make the signal for it if I did. So just know that if you steal my idea, it will hurt my feelings.

"Billy McBill, whose AIM screenname was 'HornyToad' died of being too awesome at his home in Pleasantville yesterday.

HornyToad was born on January 7th 1984 to a bunch of losers who never appreciated him. Sure bet they feel sorry about not letting him throw that house party now. Because he's dead. Can't throw many house parties from within the cold embrace of the crypt, can you Dad? What's that? I can't hear you. I'm dead! One time, his mom walked in on him... you know. Man, that was unawesome.

He was a 2002 graduate of EveryHighSchoolUSA, where he enjoyed feeling cripplingly awkward. It's not as if he had much choice though, because he couldn't have any parties at home, now could he?

He attended IvyLeague State, where he changed his major several times in a quest to find which one had the most girls and grade inflation. His many interests included 'smokin my chronic, golf, [and] smokin my chronic.' His enjoyed music from 'skinner, seger, the stones, led zepp, bon jovi, [and] MMMMMEEEEETTTTTAAAAALLLLLIIIIICCCCAAAAA!!!!!!!' He listed "Zoolander" as his favorite book. His favorite quote was 'Life isn't made up of the number of moments you breathe. It's made up of the number of moments that take your breath away.' Many of his friends speculated on both his gender and sexuality on account of this quote.

In addition to the aforementioned douchebag parents, he is survived by a younger brother, a dog, and 185 facebook friends.

Prior to his death, HornyToad requested that all memorial donations be made to I.C. Weiner. Although Mr. Weiner's name is not in the phonebook, HornyToad suggested calling Moe's. Then he laughed and laughed and laughed. Then he died."

Jealous?

posted by Tim @ 9:15 PM