Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Witz Pickz: Grave Decisions

You are not going to believe this shit:

Yup. Child molestation is back on in Paris. I don't know who lobbied for the change or what happened, but the sign doesn't lie. I suppose Paris could be split into molestation legal and molestation illegal zones, I dunno-- it's all very confusing. This does present the United States with a great opportunity though. We should start marketing France's laissez-faire molestation laws (hahaha...god, I'm clever) all over the place in an attempt to get our molesters to move to Paris. It will a) get rid of some molesters and b) make it super awkward for non-molesters to travel to Paris (at which point I will start the site and camp out at the airport with a camera...and then go to jail).

Incidentally, in the off chance that I'm wrong and the sign is not related to child molestation, what does it possibly mean? Nobody I've asked, including some french citizens, have any idea. My best guess is, "It is now okay to let your children run free in traffic" or "It is not okay for you to let your children run free in traffic," and frankly, my first theory seems way more reasonable.

Speaking of which, here's something I learned today: Even if you are about to eat Le Petit Ecolier cookies, it is never okay to say, "There's a little schoolboy with my name on it," out loud.

I found something else unusual as I was walking through a famous cemetery (I say "famous" not to be pretentious, but strictly because the other option is simply to say, "as I was walking through a cemetery" which seems like I have a lot more explaining to do. "Oh, it was a FAMOUS cemetery? Nevermind then, that makes perfect sense!"). I noticed that a number of the graves had multiple families' names on them, which seems a) kinda cheap and b) an awkward conversation. I mean how do you bring that up? How long do you need to know someone before it's appropriate to bring up going halvies on your eternal resting place?

"Listen...I know we just met...and maybe this is a little premature, you-- do you want to share a tomb?"

I mean, I'll like someone on Monday and won't be able to stand them by Friday. I make best friends ordering turkey at the supermarket! I'm not in any kind of position to be asking anyone to share a grave with me!

I have good friends that I can't even share an order of Thai food with because they always order the weird shit-- how do you decide that you're able to split a grave? Even if you say "No crosses!" or "Don't do anything weird!" you're both saying, "Deal," but really thinking, "Whatever you say-- you're gonna die first and then I'll do whatever the hell I want-- and I want a grave shaped like a racecar." Then you die first and get to spend eternity with this statue keeping you company:

You get to the afterlife:

Witz: Dude, what the hell was that??
BFF: What?
Witz: Uhh, the small naked child statue??
BFF: I thought it was poetic!
Witz: We look like child molesters!
BFF: That would explain why we're in hell...
Witz: Well...maybe-- it could also have a lot to do with my extensive joking about rape, the deaf, the mentally challenged, the physically challenged, various ethnicities, and a fairly prominent disregard for the seriousness of child molestation...*

Which brings up another point-- is sharing a grave anything like marrying for a green card? Like, if I'm a cusper, but my grave-mate is going to Hell, do I get dragged down too? Is the opposite true? If so, that makes the decision even more difficult. "Well, Nitro hasn't done anything awful YET, but I could see him doing some really heinous shit when he gets to be eighty plus."

Retirement Home Police: How could you sexually assault that extremely old woman??
Elderly Nitro: What?! Sexually assault her?? She was DROOLING!

But say you do find someone you think you could split permanent rent with. Even if you find someone with the same decor preferences; even if you somehow work out the financial side of things (Ok, I make more, so I'll pay a little more, but I get the "Ring in-case I'm not actually dead bell" on my side of the grave**); even if you are 100% certain that you want to share a grave with someone-- the names become an issue. I'm not talking about whose name goes first-- I'm simply talking about space. Berkowitz and Pomoloupolos don't work. You can obviously rule out all hyphenated last names. It's just too dangerous. "Dude, calm down! I'm positive both our names will fit."

Yeah, Poisson got fucked.

I just don't see how you could find a grave-mate. Then again, having said that, if anyone is interested in splitting a simple, yet cozy plot, with the tomb in the shape of the phone booth from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, please send me an email. Bonus points if your last name is Pickz and double points if it's Pickz-Dot-Com as a result of a series of failed marriages. Let's make this magic happen.

Ce N'est Pas Grave,

*Here's how the rest of that conversation goes:

BFF: Where'd you do all that?
Witz: On my blog.
BFF: Pff-- you have a blog?
Witz: Yes.
BFF: Ha!
Witz: Great-- now I'm not just "Naked child on his grave child molester guy" I'm also, "the naked child on his grave child molester guy WITH A BLOG." I'm never gonna get laid.

**If I paid more, I would definitely demand to be buried on my left side with my right leg sticking out across the other person-- JUST in case death really is an eternal sleep. I don't care if it's a dude, I just want to be comfortable.

1 comment:

IrishGal said...

Isn't Poisson the French word for fish? So, theoretically, that guy in the tomb is "sleeping with the fishes?"

(insert drum riff)