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I figure I'll cut my wrists opening a box of jello and bleed to death, or something like that.

For instance, this morning I managed to get a good sized glob of cinnamon flavored toothpaste in my eye. For a few moments, I thought about calling 911.

Can't decide if it'll be Assaulted by Bears or Ennui.

Indeed, it was The Dreaded Ennui that sparked this very post.

I was once told by a one-eyed woman at a Renaissance Fair that I would meet my untimely demise in the year 2032 by finding myself caught in an epic battle between geoducks and cuttlefish. It might not be quick and painless, but it should at least by slimy.

be slimy. or something.

anything but slow and lingering. Unless it is slow and lingering while being fed all manner of illegal drugs.

I figure one day when I'm old enough not to know better I'll try to combine my love of toast with my love of baths.

Say, not to hijack the thread, but when the tink book came out I promised to send out copies of it to all you 9622 people. The next day or thereabouts I had to skip town to avoid hurricanes, and while this was going on I was getting Screenhead together, so I quite simply forgot all about it until I embarrassingly found the box of books this morning, still unsent to anyone. It was easy to forget-- I don't like this book and they way it turned out, but if anyone still wants one of these turds, it's my pleasure to send one. That includes you overseas people. If you did send me your address before, I'm afraid I'll need it again as I've switched computers since.

Dong, that's not a thread hijack at all. The subject was slow and painful deaths...

How's the book selling, anyway?

wow ufez, your future death sounds sexy.

My word, jon, I managed to get toothpaste in my eye for the first time today. Burned like a mofo. What a coincidence.

There's also the Fishfucker way, but it sounds unpleasant at best.

Get well soon, FF.

Well, dong, I bought the book, and I had to quit reading it on the subway because gasping for air after laughing so hard made me sound like an unusually asthmatic seal.

I'd love to get it autographed, though, if you send me your snail-mail addy.

Oh, and if I have to get the place back on-topic, I'm sure it'll be lethal injection for me.

(Unless I luck out like Nelson Rockefeller, the bastard.)

I want my free book too, dammit.

Errr, I mean, please. Autographed!

vidiot, was it that half-liquid 2-in-1 mouthwash shit from colgate?

I had to shake it to get it out and that's what cause the blowback. The cinnamon made it that much more intolerable. I'm actually a minty fresh guy myself. Pips is on the cinammon kick and the other flavor was empty.

Nah, it was the normal paste from Colgate or Crest or whoever.

I have no idea how I managed to do that.

I was on that book mailing list. I even had the other Showcase Showdown CD burned and sealed awaiting posting instructions. Instead, I got really pissed off at work one day and felt like I *needed* to hear Ping Pong's voice. But I can repackage it, if you wish, dong.

The men in my family tree traditionally shuffle off this mortal coil in one of two ways: heart attack, or freak accident. I takes the Lipitor, so smart money's on my accidently beheading myself with a pancake spatula or something.

i've often thought about how i'd go out, out of sheer boredom, and i think either being incinerated or collapsing of unknown causes in a recording studio top my list.

I gotta cast my vote for the glorious nuclear fire, and given the current state of the world it's getting more and more likely.

Oh, not incinerated! That is bad, bad, bad. Unless it is being vaporized very quickly during a nuclear attack. That would be fine.

Or being zapped by an alien ray-gun. I would totally go for that.

Crash! You are a genius.

Can we, like, not talk about nuclear incineration? I never even considered it in my realm of paranoid deathly possibilities until someone posted the AskMe question about whether it would hurt. Great, one more thing to worry about. It used to only be fearing that if I look over a bridge or a high balcony that my knees would somehow get a mind of their own and go *BOING* and I'd plummet to my death. Oh, that and forgetting to look both ways and getting run over and *dragged* by a bus. And also, being driven by Voodoun bongo players in the subway station to jump in front of the train.

John Waters said that plain old committing suicide was dull and that to do it up properly one must take out a celebrity in the process. Like jumping out of a window and landing on Elizabeth Taylor. Though suicide doesn't really appeal to me, if I had to pick a method, it'd be to strap bombs to my chest and give Courtney Love a bearhug.

But otherwise, I don't want to die, like, ever.

Oh, you big baby! What a weenie. Just a little nuclear annihilation. Piece of cake!

Hmmm...

A man died after being pinned under a DART bus about 7:45 p.m. Monday. The man, whose name was not released, pending notification of his family, was running alongside the moving bus and beating on the side of it, Dallas police Sgt. Shelia Zimmerman said. The man fell off a curb on Elm Street near Ervay Street and got trapped under a wheel. Police said they were not sure why the man was running alongside the bus.

Don't run alongside, ufez!

Actually, I was the only kid in the third grade that was terrified of the bomb. Figures.

and:

9622.net: Just a little nuclear annihilation. Piece of cake!

Vidiot, did you have to do duck and cover drills? They always told us they were in case of earthquakes.

Earthquakes. In upstate NY. Okeeeeeeee.

Oh ye of little faith. Those desks were constructed of the finest lead-based mutant repellant, and would guarantee your safety as you laughed at Grandma and her thoughtless radiation sores. I think you little ungrateful bitches should get down on your scabby knees and thank the LORD for Virco.

Oh ye of little faith. Those desks were constructed of the finest lead-based mutant repellant

No wonder they tasted so yummy.

I could deal with a bomb or two. When it takes 40 minutes to see a movie with hallie berry in it in the middle of the day, it's time for a little population sweep-up.

I just saw these in th cooler at the deli. Most ill-advised beverage name since Pocari Sweat.

When we had "air raid drills" in grade school, the sixth graders had to stand and lean over top of the crouching kindergarteners.

Priorities, people! Kindergarten kids are the future. Those sixth graders have lived long enough, thank you very much.

We never had to do any kind of drill other than tornado drills. Which were stupid, anyway -- we all knelt facing the lockers, with our hands covering our heads.

I was just scared of the bomb all on my own. I kept picturing it as being like that rush of warm air when you open the oven door, but much more fatal.

Yes, I was a weird little kid.

(No, not much has changed.)

Poor woman, hope it was quick.

I've missed death so many times I'll definitely be surprised by it. Seriously, been pronounced dead by hospital staff two separate occasions. Then the life flashing before your eyes incidents; Having a knife & broken bottle at my throat’s aorta. Though being shot at twice is pretty scary - until you realize you wouldn't know you were alive unless the bullets missed.

As of now the city I reside is sure to be my death, Dallas.{God willing - I have future cities to die in}

Poor woman, hope it was quick.

I've missed death so many times I'll definitely be surprised by it. Seriously, been pronounced dead by hospital staff two separate occasions. Then the life flashing before your eyes incidents; Having a knife & broken bottle at my throat’s aorta. Though being shot at twice is pretty scary - until you realize you wouldn't know you were alive unless the bullets missed.

As of now the city I reside is sure to be my death, Dallas.{God willing - I have future cities to die in}

Whoops, double post. That's not punishalbe by death is it?:P

Never got nuclear drills here. In fact, don't recall earthquake drills (and I'm on the Pacific Rim). Good old Canada - I think we rely on that "pioneer spirit" a little too much. For me, pioneering involves being somewhere without pizza delivery and cable.

Thanks to Girl Guides I did learn about the various ways Mother Nature would like to kill me. None pleasant. Hypothermia lectures mostly, but I was strapped into snowshoes at age seven, herded off into the snowy mountains and taught how to get out of one of these by a crusty old Parks Warden. It sounded so unpleasant, I remember it to this day. Claustrophobic? Check. Shivering, wet and cold? Check. Lingering lonely death? Check. Won't find your body until spring thaw? Double check.

Given a choice, the nuclear annihilation sounds better. At least that way I get to take you all with me.

I've always envisioned a James Dean-esque head-on collision on some toothless highway in the mid-west. This is in stark contrast to the fate determined by my having consumed water from a cursed fountain on Benefit Street in Providence, RI. If you drink from the fountain in front of the Atheneum, it is said that you will die in Providence. Not that you will die at any specific age, but that you will die in Providence. That makes drives along the I95 corridor a bit dicey.

Oh, and BTW, where's the helicopter in that photo? Someone get on that PS job, stat! Don't forget the Golden Gate bridge.

I always thought that death by hypothermia sounded so peaceful... dozing off to sleep in the snowdrift. All cozied down in a white blanket, while the St. Bernard dog licks your face, but you just don't feel like clinging to the fur around his neck and letting him pull you to safety. After all, it's so quiet here. Ahhh.

Salmonberry, thanks for ruining it for me. You owe me a new death fantasy, now!

Cursed water fountains? I'd believe that about most of the ones with big clumps of chewed gum in 'em.

Ok.

You'll be attacked and killed by a cougar - if you don't fight it'll be over before you know what hit you - whereupon the cougar and many other scavengers will nibble on your body as it decomposes and enriches the soil. In this way, you belong to the great circle of life, nurturing new life through your death.

Beats being stuck in some cheaply made, satin lined death crate for eternity, no?

Not as sexy as being caught in the middle of a geoduck/cuttlefish turf war, though.

I've often "fantasized" about being eaten by a Great White Shark...much more appealing than, say, being eaten by a crocodile or dying in a plane crash.

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