Mortality Check

I've always known that one day, the inevitable will happen and I will most likely die.  Even though I'm aware of this fact, I'm still sure as shit going to be horribly shocked when it happens.  The Grim Reaper will be knocking on my door and I'll be all, "Wait... I need to take a shower and put on some make-up..."  because knowing me, it's going to happen on one of those days that I say "fuck it" and don't shower, don't comb my hair, haven't shaved my legs in a month week and am lounging around the house in holey sweatpants and a coffee stained shirt.

Even if I live to be 107 years old and have been waiting patiently for Death for the past 30 years, he will show up on the one day that I'm busy doing something else and am totally not prepared.  I know this about me, just as I also know that I'm not going to be one of those people who passes peacefully in their sleep, with their loved ones all around.

I'm going to be one of those people who's demise winds up on the tv show "Curious and Unusual Deaths."

I decided to make a list of ways that I'm most likely going to die, just so my family isn't completely caught off guard when it actually happens.

It could happen...

Ways I'm Most Likely Going To Die

1.  I have a sneaking suspicion that my death will most likely be humiliating and butt-related.  Like Elvis, I'll probably die on the toilet or somehow manage to impale myself by falling ass-first on a very sharp object.  Since I'm terrified of flying, this is the scenario that I have listed as the Number 1 Way I Will Most Likely Die:

I will be flying to Ireland or England on my dream vacation.  I'll be loaded on Xanax and $5 Bloody Marys and in the "comfortably numb" zone, where I look out the window and take pictures of the wing of the plane with my cell phone.  (I always look at these pictures later, after sleeping off my drug-induced coma, and wonder, "WTF?")   The captain will come over the PA system and tell everyone to prepare for a crash landing.  Chaos will reign as I smile happily to myself, loaded to the gills on "I Don't Care" pills and secure in the knowledge that this is going to be fun.

As I'm falling from the sky with my parachute strapped to my back, I will be so busy taking picture of the earth rapidly rising up to meet me that I will forget to pull the rip cord.  

I will land, ass first, on top of Big Ben.  

That's gonna hurt.  Just sayin'.

2.  I will be laughing really hard at someone else's expense while I'm eating and inhale whatever is in my mouth and go out in a coughing, wheezing, pants-wetting choking fit.  The headline will read, "Woman Literally Laughs Herself To Death.  Karma Got Totally Sick Of Her Shit."

It won't be pretty.

3.  I worry about this one a lot:

I'll be climbing out of the shower and will realize that once again, I forgot to put down a towel, because the bathmat is in the dryer, where I left it because I hate folding laundry.  Hate it.  Hate it reallll hard.  I'll walk with my slippery wet feet, leaving puddles along the floor, over to the rack in front of the toilet where I keep the towels.  I will simultaneously reach for a towel and slip, landing awkwardly and face first into the toilet, where I will drown.  I will later be found naked and dead, wearing a toilet on my head.

 

4.  And of course, there's always this to worry about:

That's what happens when you openly mock the power of the chain letter.

5.  Most of my Death Scenarios include falling, for obvious reasons.  (If you're new to this blog, my name is Dani and I fall down.  A lot.  Usually in public.)  My latest Fear Of Falling Death Scene involves me, the Big  M, and the Amish.  Because you just know that one day I'll be pushing one of those itty-bitty shopping carts out of the Big M, feeling cocky and self-important because I managed to complete a shopping excursion without making a giant ass out of myself.  I'll get distracted by a horse and buggy combo filled with darling little Amish people and try to subtly take out my cellphone and snap their picture without being too obvious.  I will trip over my own feet because I won't be paying attention or wearing shoes that are appropriate for shopping in the snow, accidentally knock the shopping cart into the horse, and fall clumsily onto the pavement, where I will promptly be run over by a buggy.  

That will be the day that I say "Fuck it all, no one knows me here" and go shopping in sweat pants, a sweat shirt, and no bra.  

My death will be uber classy.

What the fuck, English?  Get thine ass out of the way!

6.  There is also, of course, the high probability that I will beat myself to death if a leaf falls on top of my head, because I will be positive that it's a bat.  I will go out screaming and slapping myself repeatedly on the head, while those around me wonder what the hell I'm doing.

(You can read all about my extreme bat phobia here.)

 

7.  Let us also not forget that geese are always looking for an opportunity to humiliate me...  What better way to complete this goal than to cause me to die in a painful and humiliating way?

I'm telling you, geese are assholes.  Don't underestimate their evilness.