Saturday, March 7, 2015
Where do we go when we die? Were you a bad person, like not returning your shopping cart bad or supreme leader/evil dictator bad? Were you a good person, like lending books to people when you know that they will NEVER return them to you type good or like Saint Mother Theresa type good? Maybe you will go to heaven. Maybe you will go into the hellscape of a Bosch painting. I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life but I will tell you how I would like mine to end.
For some morbid reason, I have given death a lot of thought. Should I be cremated? Buried? Should my body be used for science or fodder for a future tree. Last night I realized that I want my remaining body or body parts, whatever is left really, to be turned into a Robocop. I will try to put this into my will but I need to find an attorney who has experience with Robo-Law. If I become paralyzed, Robocop. If I need life support to survive, Robocop. If my body simply won't make it and death is the only other option, Robocop.
My husband said that he will leave me if I am turned into a Robocop. That's fine because after my transformation I will bury myself in my police work and other Robo-activities such as, TALKING IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS WITH NO DISCERNIBLE EMOTION, INTONATION OR ACCENT, cleaning my gun while hanging upside down from a door frame and also I am blindfolded for some reason, walking without swinging my arms, oiling all my Robo-joints, playing fetch with my new Robo police dog that was specially designed by the K9 unit of the police department. The dog's name will be Terabyte.
My new Robo-body will offer me eternal life and, in return, the people of Los Angeles will receive an eternity of prodigious justice. I won't need a funeral or memorial service. Instead, I will be issued a Glock 17, a badge and extreme authority. Detective RoboDonna is reporting for duty.