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This is the year I turn 30. In the words of Achmed, Holy Crap.

So instead of a New Year's Resolution, I will instead post my Last Will and Testament.

Why?

You see, a resolution means that you will do everything in your power to try and change some of the things you don't like about yourself or try and do something differently to make life better for yourself and those around you. Well I have a newsflash. I'm turning frickin 30 years old. I already know what's good and bad about me so in all honesty, trying to change will just be a waste of time. Hahaha... haha... ha... it's not funny.

But seriously, I'd always believed that I wouldn't be "earthbound" for very long, so I may as well start drafting my LWAT here, and then update as I grow older (and wiser? nah.)

So here it is. Drumroll please.

Tarugoman's LWAT. First Draft.

Section 1. And I quote "Bury me upside down so the world can kiss my ass"

First of all, I do not want to be buried. I want to be cremated with my guitar.
There's only one problem... the guitar I have on me right now is not mine. It belongs to our buddy DA which I was never able to return. Funny how I never got around to it seeing as we were next door neighbors for a number of years...

Anyway, the guitar I want to be cremated with is that awesome black Les Paul I used to rock out with back in high school and college. Yeah you know what I'm talking about. That little shiny black beauty that made Slash look like an amateur. Last known location of said guitar: Archie Pablico's house in LGV.

Dude, when the time comes, tell your brother I'm taking the damn thing with me.


Section 2. The Wake. Also Known As: 'Good God he looks awful in that barong'.

Close the damn casket please. I look bad enough now and having everyone else suffer through the same damn thing over a period of how many days is torture enough.

Now unless the taxidermist can find a way to make me smile, look as thin as I did back in high school (God I was hot back then) then maybe we can offer a dimly lit viewing complete with November Rain playing softly from my coffin.

And when the solo starts playing I give permission to the boys to stand on my coffin and rock it out like they did in the music video, wish Slash standing on the grand piano.

And oh, make sure I'm wearing my favorite shirt: the orange Porn Star one.

Otherwise, keep the lid frickin closed. Just fill the cover with my best pictures, and not the ones on the beach please.


Section 3. The slow ass procession. GET OFF THE MIDDLE OF THE DAMN HIGHWAY

Taking a cue from my boy Ian, he hated it big time when he got stuck behind a long ass funeral procession. True. The man's dead. He ain't goin nowhere. But for God's sake everyone else has to be somewhere. Use the po-po for once and get to the crematorium in 10 mins or less.

And I quote Ricky Bobby: "Out of the way Sunday driving!"


Section 4. On Worldly (and cyberspace-ical) belongings.

My rig (my PC for those who don't speak da linggo), if Maan doesn't want it, CJ can have it, along with all the porn in it. If someone other than Maan gets it please make sure to DELETE THE MY DOCUMENTS FOLDER. All of the nekkid pictures of my exes are in there. Just kidding. But seriously delete that folder. Lots of incriminating evidence. The truth about Roswell and the JFK conspiracy are in there.

My PS2 will be shared amongst my nephews. Let them fight over who gets to keep it. Winner gets it during Holidays and weekends. Loser has to play during weeknights and has to be the one to buy the new games. Nolan still hasn't returned it.

My WoW Toons and all their possessions goes to all the Pinoys in the server. Divided equally. I let Vince, KC and Jaime take care of that, since they're so anal when it comes to details. My WoW password is.... hehe. I'm not dead yet beeatches.

All my Broken Lizard, Guy Ritchie and Adam Sandler/Happy Madison DVDs go to Laz and No. I want those movies playing at my wake. Just ask for weed from my brother. Hahaha!

Pancakes I leave with my family. Make sure to bring his teddy bear with him. That's his hump buddy.

Donate my FHM and Maxim collection to the Ateneo High School Library. That will get me in good standing with those Jesuits.

My work chair I leave with Yehey. God knows we need more decent chairs in the office.

Ask Multiply, Myspace, Facebook, Friendster, WAYN, Zedge, Orkut, and all the other social networking websites out there to keep my profile alive. My only request is that, on the day I get cremated, I want them all to simultaneously post messages to all my contacts with the word: BOO!

Take my car. Please.

The rest of my worldly possession goes to Maan for the simple reason that she owns them all to begin with. Most of my stuff I just borrowed money from her to get. She's my sugar momma.

Oh and if the credit card companies still go after me to settle my debt, please, feel free to tell them to FUCK OFF.


Section 5. Last Requests? *evil laugh*

I want Google, Yahoo and Yehey to change their logo into the shape of a penis to commemorate Tarugoman Day.

On the day of the funeral procession I want NU to play Another One Bites the Dust by Queen every hour, followed by Wanted: Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi and then Sweet Child O Mine by Ganenrows. And I want the hearse playing Life is a Highway and Enter Sandman all the way. The deejays are allowed to cus and swear during that time.

I want my car to be used in a big expensive car chase, where it blows up in the end and gets swallowed by Manila bay. Put a big drawing of a penis on the rear windshield. Ask David Mariano to draw the penis.

As an extension of my earlier request to the social networks, I want our MIS to send an email to everyone on my recipient list and egroups with the same message: 'BOO!' If I get tagged as SPAM I will come back as a virus and haunt your ass.

At the Eulogy, I want one part where everyone has to sit and watch Achmed the Dead Terrorist. BUT... no one is allowed to laugh. Anyone who laughs will be hit on the forehead with a wet rag.

If I happen to die during Christmas season, I require someone to watch the sappiest, lousiest Pinoy film fest entry, and, in the middle of the movie, stand up and yell, "ANG BADUY! COME BACK MY MONEY!" If it's a Jinggoy movie, the better.

And last but not least, no one is allowed to cry. Ever. First bitch that cries gets a towel on their forehead.


Hehehe... and that's about it. Will update on my own terms (especially the more serious and sappy ones), and keep a copy on my flash drive. How morbid, but you have to admit it's funny as hell.

Happy 2008 everyone! Magbago ka na!


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