Every week, Blogmeister and AOL Journals' guru, John M. Scalzi, suggests a topic, such as what you see below:
Weekend Assignment #31: Your Own Epitaph
"Boo! It's time once again for the weekend assignment! I give you a topic, you write it up in your AOL Journal or blog, and then drop back a link in the comment thread. Anyone can do it -- but only the beautiful people do.
This week's Weekend Assignment is another reader suggestion, this time from isckwootton, and just in time for Halloween:
Write your own, preferably rhyming, epitaph. For example,
Here lies Jed,
He fell out of bed.
Extra credit: Write a cute epitaph for your favorite loved one, relative, or family pet.
Suggestion: keep it light. You might want them to continue being your favorite loved one, relative, or family pet. Nothing is worse than having Fido dissing you over some silly words on a gravestone."
Dear John,
The frost is on the pump handle and the tractor don't start, less of course I haul a salamander out and fire up the oil pan for ten minutes or so. Nothing like a 3 foot flame shooting out under a $150,000 piece of equipment to serve as impetus to fix that fuel leak, don'tcha know...
I have lost my cotton-picking mind and signed up for NaNoWriMo, except I'm doing it as NaNoBlogMo. That's right. I'm writing a novel online for folks to ridicule and line cyberbirdcages with! It'll be schlock, of course. After all, writing at least 50,000 words between November 1 and November 30, 2004, on top of all the other things on my busy schedule (cough, cough), Thanksgiving, my wife's surgery on her knee on the 22nd and subsequent nursing and catering I'll be doing for her... what in heck posessed me? But I'll think of you, banging out the Rough Sci-Fi Movie Guide during the same period and you will have my sympathy. So, if my missives are a trifle tiny or even (gasp) absent over the next couple of weeks, you know whyfor.
Halloweenie theme this week, I see. You want me to write an epitaph for me, and rhyme it at that. And for extra credit, I do it for a loved one? Not bloody likely.
Ho, ho, ho - he's dead meat.
Couldn't float - sank in the peat.
He tweren't hard to find...
being a legend in his own mind.
His corpse bobbed up all covered in goo...
Damned but what his horse did too!
All right, that didn't cut it for you. Something more respectful? Not likely, coming from me. Let's see if any of these tickle your funny bone. Tombstone is courtesy of "The Original Tombstone Generator" by J.J. Chandler, now consigned to DogCrap.net. The prose is mine.
There you have it, John. Here's hoping that last night's excursion afield as a ghost in search of chocolate produce naught but fine memories... the cost of fillings keeps going up. Give my best to the women in your life and put those fingers to the keyboard - you have a book to finish in a hurry. Best of luck with it.
Grins and giggles,
Wil
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