Mark’s Note: While I’m in Florida dealing with my mother’s health issues, I’ve arranged for a guest blogger. I hope you enjoy his musings.
Hello, folks. Death here. How are you today? Really? Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?
Anyway, I’m taking time off from my own blog, If You’re Reading This, You’re Dead, to discuss your future. Yes, you.
Here’s what’s in your future: Me.
Of course, some stuff might happen for you between now and then, but, frankly, it’s not likely to be anything very many people will care about. Unless you’re an important person.
But you’re not, are you?
Of the 7,115 Americans who will hear from me today, not many will be famous, and even fewer will be important. Trust me: there’s a huge difference between famous and important, although not so much after I get done with you.
By the way, that comes to about 4.94 customers per minute. Plus, it seems like a couple of times a month, some lunatic with a gun picks up the per-minute statistics. I appreciate the effort, but, really, I don’t need any help.
Think of it, though. On a normal, non-mass-shooting day, if it takes you three minutes to read this post, I’ll take out about 14.82 Americans while you do. So you should read faster!
Ha ha. Just joking again. They should call me The Grin Reaper.
And that’s actually the point of this post. Hey–I’m a fun guy! You think of me as that thug in a hoodie brandishing a scythe. What the hell is that? What would I possibly do with a scythe–cut somebody’s weeds? I’m Death, not Lawn Doctor.
That image you have of me was made up by you people. And it dates back to the 15th Century! You think I haven’t changed my outfit in 600 years? I hate to admit it, but for a while there in the 60’s, I even had a Nehru jacket! I’m just a regular guy–like Seth Rogen, but with a neater beard. You’d love hanging out with me. I have a massive flat screen TV, for one thing. And I know an excellent pizza place.
All of this is to say that you should stop avoiding me. I’m speaking specifically to all you really old people right now. If it’s been months since you could sit in your wheelchair without your chin hitting your chest, it’s time to go! I can’t personally come for everybody, you know. I wouldn’t have time to watch The Walking Dead.
So just head on out toward the light, will ya? It’s my Welcome sign. And if you want to wait until after you see the new Star Wars movie, that’s fine. I’ll skip it myself; I already know who dies.
Meanwhile, I know Mark usually ends his posts by saying “See you soon,” but I recognize that would have a very different meaning coming from me.
So I’ll sign off with my standard line:
Eat more fried foods!