http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=2101713

kickass

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no longer actually tacking on an extra year. i had to get a real job.

"hey thats journey! kick ass!"

After my mom's funeral we threw a big beer-and-barbecue bash at Salt Lick.

That's the way to do it.

Yeah, I’ve given strict instructions to my family about my “services” after I die.

First, keep the expenses relating to the disposal of my body to an absolute minimum. If they can't plant me beneath the tomato plants in the back yard or put me in a sturdy garbage bag and leave me by the curb for pickup on Tuesday or Friday, then go for the “cremation in a cardboard box” option.

If cremation is utilized, don’t fly to Hawaii and drop my ashes from an airplane flying over some silly volcano. Instead, take the ashes to the local Hooter’s and liberally powder them onto the ladies’ cleavage and bare rear ends. That way folks can say, “You see all of those nubile young ladies, ol’ Hap has spent time between their beautiful breasts and in their pants too. Every one of ‘em.” Upon retelling, my legend will continue to grow.

Then, take all of the money saved by not embalming the body, buying an expensive casket, paying for the service and burial plot, etc. and rent a big room and provide an open bar for all of my friends and family. That way everyone can celebrate my life and enjoy the memories. Most funerals are incredible “downers” and the Irish side of me prefers a celebratory wake.

quote:

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Smith's body was on the recliner, his feet crossed and a remote in his hand. He wore black and gold silk pajamas, slippers and a robe. A pack of cigarettes and a beer were at his side, while a high-definition TV played a continuous loop of Steelers highlights.

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That is not a party...that is torture. Watching a loop of "Slash" turning the ball over again and again.