by Ham… follow on Twitter @yourboyham11
Yo real talk I need to get to Ghana and die right away. That looks awesome. What better way to be remembered by your friends and family than throwing the sickest “I’m dead” party of all time. Bottles of Ciroc, Instagram girls, Ja Rule Pandora. Shit’s gonna be popping. Like a Drake party except in the dirt… you know, because it’s in Ghana.
Seriously, just prop my dead ass up in the corner like Weekend at Bernie’s and get wild. The Ghanaians (first guess, nailed it, nbd) are doing this whole death thing right. I mean look at this quote from a CNN article about why Ghanaians get so lit at their funerals.
Charles Gabriel Palmer-Buckle, the Archbishop of Accra, said: “The surest way to remember the dead is not the type of coffins used to bury them nor is not the type of cloth or T-shirt won during their funerals, but doing something positive for the dead which would benefit the living.”
Exactly. I want to do this for all the people I leave behind.
Why haven’t we been doing this all along? Come on America. Why should your last memory of me be my cold waxy body in some stuffy mafia-front Italian Funeral Home while everyone cries? I mean think about that for a second. That sucks. But that’s the miserable way that all of us are going to be remembered when we die.
Fuck that. I don’t want to go out like that. I want to be remembered for giving you all the sweetest party of all time. So when I die–which no doubt will be soon–throw a Project X party, dance with my casket, throw my dead ass off the roof, and put that shit on Instagram. That’s how I want to go out.
Just make sure this guy is invited…
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