The evening's entertainment.
Rather than celebrate my very good friend Mark's birthday, we are going to celebrate death. Yes we are some morbid fuckers. But we had been talking about this for a while and decided it would be fun. We all die. Why not acknowledge it and have a party? So that's what we're doing. Mark's had some intimate encounters with death in the past year, and as anyone who knows me, (or if you just read this silly blog on occasion you've probably gathered) I tend to think a great deal about death. So we hatched the idea for the Death Party.
We will, if the U.S. Post Office has cooperated, have living wills, DNR orders, power of attorney for healthcare forms and all such materials on hand for partygoers. There will be all sorts of tastelessly named shots on hand as well: the vegetative state, the Jose Schiavo, the Challenger, and others. Drunkenness and maudlin weeping will ensue. All are invited.
To death!
