How To Die Right
I'm probably trapped in a cyclical ward of induced restlessness. I'm getting older but maturity seems to be slipping from me and my relentless pursuits for temporal and carnal pleasantries still remain the same.
Japanese air crews? Probable loves of my life, just so long as they're Japanese and they're hot. Vodka and champagne? Better if they come by the bottles. Lemon and salt? Preferably off your lips. Humility? Only when I'm sober.
Yes, we're living it. The endless nights at the clubs lining the livers up for the firing squads. The club banter, the beautiful people, the casual flirts and the elaborate teases. And when do these end? Or along the inspirational words of Kurt Cobain, do we burn out or shall we fade away?
We burn out.
Life is full of unpredictabilities. One minute you are fucking a whore and the next minute, you have AIDS. One moment you're practising for a Nazi salute at a Jewish wedding and the next thing you know your head is pinned to the floor with someone's boot in your mouth. No one really knows when life is going to fuck you the wrong way.
If you haven't lived a life less ordinary, the one absolution for such a crime is to die in style. I don't care what your pre-school teachers have taught you, but life is measured in sex, alcohol and number of times you've punched a man in a tele-tubbie suit.
And this is my redemption. My contribution to the hyperbolic straight jacket society we live in. One marketing lecture down and I'm sure it was a good one, I've now penned one for the perennial melancholics and manic depressives.
How To Die
1. In the F1.
For the armchair car enthusiast, nothing beats being killed by flying debris from car wreckage at the F1 Grand Prix. The ideal scenario will be Alonso flipping his car into the stands and if there are intelligent people around you, they will not be running. This is what you should do,
Do not panic or run towards the anticipated site of the landing car. Instead, wait for the car to dip before you move towards it. Do not worry, if the car misses you, there is still a high chance to get hit by flying debris. Look, if you're going to be killed by a car, it might as well be an F1. My mummy didn't raise me to get killed by a Picanto.
But death by F1? Now that's bragging rights.
2. Rave Spots
You're at a rave. The place is obnoxiously packed, the music is mind blowing and you can feel the bass fellating you through your jeans. You're ecstatic. You've had a couple drinks and several jabs to eye from accidental glowsticks. Suddenly, there is a drug bust and attempts for escape escalates into a stampede.
You trip and in the ensuing 30 seconds, you have 300 people stepping on you. Your ribs are crushed and you're spitting blood. Instead of calling for help, you gather your remaining strength to reach for the bag of pills someone had dropped in the chaos.
You can now legitimately say 'shuffling killed me'.
3. Bar Fight
One of the manliest way to die is from a bar fight which erupted over a passive debate of 'which is better, beer or lager'. Bar fights have in the realm of tradition (and Hollywood projection) been associated with the dominance, egos and alot of stupidity.
Nothing beats getting all bloodied and stabbed in the eye with a broken bar stool.
4. Failed Brakes
It's a simple equation. I'll quote me,
No Brakes = More time for the accelerator = Getting around faster
When it comes to traveling, there’s no two ways about it. You either go safe and spend Christmas in the car or you speed. Yes, you’ll be more accident prone, more likely to kill an innocent pedestrian and chipping a nail from all that frantic gear shifting.
BUT, as long as your hair remains in place and you make it there 2mins ahead of everyone else, you’ll know it’s worth it. Cos, your life is only worth 2 mins. Safety and speeding are mutually exclusive, like high heels and champagne, one thing's gonna give.
The 'dying in a car crash from failed brakes' also hides the fact that you were a fucked up driver and it scores with a sympathy chart. You'd have people talking about your sad passing as a result of failed mechanics and you'd be remembered as that 'nice boy' who went to Sunday school. That'll blindside everyone from the fact that you were constantly reckless, killed 4 pedestrians before your car came to stop and dying was probably a consequence of divine intervention.
Your brakes would have successfully taken your place in hell. Now that's a bargain.
5. A night with a psycho
Dating psycho's are the best way to live and the most altruistic way to die. You date a girl. She loves you cos you're smart, funny and charismatic and you love her cos she's hot and she gives good head. One night you confess to her that your conversations with her over the past weeks were solely to her cleavage and that you've a change in heart now that there's Miss D-Cups round the corner.
The next thing you know, you pass out from her neuro-toxic incense candles and you wake up tied to a bed. Before you know it, your kidney is on sale at eBay and some Taiwanese is chewing on your intestines in Kaoshiung cos we Chinese eat everything.
You're dying, but the compendium of your contribution to the exotic cannibal cuisine has earmarked you for legacy. You may be dead, but you can take solace in filling people's stomach.
6. Bungee Jumping
You think you're fearless, adrenaline rushes sustains you and you say stupid things like, "you only live once". The damn rope snaps and your last words will be.
So how cool is that.
7. Liver Failure
We all know you don't need a good liver to live, you just need a Pierre Png in your life. Liver failures are relics of two social facts. One, you've lived meaningfully with regular intoxicating treatments at the clubs and two, you're happier than erectile dysfunctional victims.
If there was ever a multiple choice on death modes, selecting alcohol is an insignia of intelligence. Now, would you rather die wth a bottle of whiskey in your hand or getting killed by that Picanto? The latter's seriously not going to make you look good on your death certificate.
8. Being in a relationship
Someone pointed at this girl at Phuture the other night and said she just got married and I said, "Why would anyone want to ruin their life like this?!"
It's a kind of paradox, but it's the wrong that everyone needs to make eventually. This is going to be slow and painful and I've got four words for you,