re: #336 Gus 802

Just toss me in the recycle bin; in Hefty bag on the side of the road for the morning pick-up. Either that or grind me up into sausage and then serve me up at a fine yuppie restaurant — unknown to the clientele — thinking that they’re consuming the finest in “free range” sausage.

Some playwright requested in his will that he be cremated, and the ashes thrown in the face of the New York Times theater critic.

I’ve always liked the idea of going to one of those Body Farm places where they put the bodies in different conditions to see what happens. You contribute to science, you get visitors…