I Planned A Destination Funeral And The Guests Are So Selfish
I don’t ask for much when it comes to milestone events. My dog Fluffers’ Bark-Mitzvah was a tasteful $1,000 a plate at one of King Henry VIII’s lesser castles. I even backed out of our space wedding plans drawn up by Elon Musk himself because my maid of honor couldn’t afford his nebulous “space fees.” But my husband’s funeral is finally starting to get me miffed at our friends and their selfishness.
Here’s what happened.
Firstly, nobody’s bought tickets yet. Sure, we live in Los Angeles, but my husband (rest his soul) wanted his ashes scattered at Disneyland Paris. Going to Anaheim would be an insult to his memory. He wanted his remains thrown in defiance at the incoming bolder on Indiana Jones et le Temple du Péril. No other Indiana Jones-themed amusement park bolder will do! But again, nobody’s bought tickets. Not even his damn mother. To think she spent all that money on nursing home fees, but she couldn’t buy a measly international flight, hotel room, park entrance voucher, and fast pass to honor her own son.
Second of all, nobody’s paying any attention to the funeral registry. I’ve gotten NOTHING from the Louvre or even lesser museums. Is it so much to ask for the Aphrodite Kallipygos statue? It’s not even the original Greek statue, it’s an ancient Roman copy, and I can see no better way to honor my husband, who was a butt guy. That statue has a famously nice butt, and my husband’s brother refuses to pay Nicki Minaj’s performance fees for the service—so what else am I supposed to do?
And there’s more.
Don’t get me started on the funeralmoon. I wanted to take my husband’s urn on a tour of Japan, but I guess we have to settle for Little Tokyo, because nobody on the guest list has heard of or is willing to fund a funeralmoon. I refuse to eat inauthentic Americanized ramen out of my husband’s urn! It’s an insult to his memory (yes, he was a white guy, but still.) I had no idea my late husband’s friends and family were such selfish, money-grubbing whores.
The final straw for me was our vet’s refusal to euthanize and mix Fluffers’ ashes in with my husband’s. When my husband gets to heaven he’s going to feel so lonely without his faithful pooch in tow. I even invited the vet to pay her own way to the funeral, gift free, but no dice. Let the record show that I invited her. I am not a selfish person.
A woman usually only gets to bury one, maybe two husbands in her lifetime. It’s just such a shame that all my husband’s loved ones have conspired to make our special day such hell.