In The Event of My Death...

Okay I know the title of this blog is a bit shocking...But, I have been thinking a lot about death recently. Not in a morbid self-destructive kind of way but more in an all things manifest to an end, which is a beginning sort of way. I also am going overseas for the first time soon, and hopefully if I die over there it will be in the arms of a beautiful woman, after a great handball match, full of potatoes, pork chops, waffles, and good aquavit, chased with cold beer. So here it goes the last will and testament of Brittany Celeste Farbo of Kansas Settlement, Arizona age 24.

I want to be cremated, and a simple service from the BCP to be held at St. A's.
There will be a keg of Shiner Bock and Aquavit if the vestry allows it. I want the Immigrant Song by Led Zepplin, Thank You For The Music and Dancing Queen by ABBA, Wasn't Born to Follow by Dusty Springfield played. Dancing Queen should be played at the end. Immigrant Song played at the beginning. I want everybody to sing The Internationale. I also want people sent forth from the line from Blazing Saddles "Now, go do that Voodoo that you do so well."

I will be cremated wearing my Tonje Larsen Jersey, what ever jeans don't stink too bad, my duct taped roper boots, and my Maryland Cap. I don't plan on having anything of significant value, so what ever I have goes to the Vets. As for the issue of what to do once I am smoked.

Some of me goes to my friend Tasha Cooper. She will know what to do with them, a little zip around downtown Silver City and PJ Harvey, Sonic, and Wal-Mart at an obscene hour. Then she can flush me for all I care but since she is all artsy and what not she will find a good spot.

Some goes to my Fairy God-mother Kyra Kerr to hang out at St. Bede's. God love em'.

Some goes to my parents...even though I can't stand them they would need closure as well.

Some goes to my friend Ted Prezelski...Tonapah.

Some goes to my Comrades Renee and Patrick Ryan...Take me for a drink, a really faggy night and sing The Internationale.

Some will hang out in DC.

Finally what ever is left I want to stay in Norway. Where my name began and where it shall always remain.

No service will be held in Willcox. It has never been my home, no notice will be put in the paper.

After the service, I would like everybody to go to the Tune Inn and eat okra, drink beer and play the Jukebox.

I think that this is pretty cut and dry. Feel free to add but not take away. I also want Heather and Deb Mizuer to make sure that this is taken care of. They have the keg-erator therefor it defaults to them.

March 25, 2009


Brittany C. Farbo

Yes I am sane.
Totally Okay...