Yet Another Suicide Attempt

Suicide seems to be a common
conversation with me lately. I’m not even the one bringing it up. It just
happens. A few weeks ago my muse and I were discussing Kavorkian. Earlier this
evening a good friend was telling me about her dark days when she considered
taking too many pills. For those of you unacquainted with myself and this blog,
now is probably a good time to mention that I’m entirely okay with assisted
suicide. I myself have every intention of ending my own life some day.




Not now. I certainly wouldn’t say
I’m depressed. Maybe a little bummed out these days, but I’m nowhere near a
danger to myself or anybody else. But depending on circumstances, I do have every
intention of taking my own life.




Not until I’m old and probably
terminal with one thing or another. Or, even less likely, if I decide I’ve
accomplished everything I want out of life. For example, I’ve never been to Japan.
I’ve never driven a car over any sweet jumps. I’ve never saved the world! Nor
brought it too its knees! I’ve never hung out on top of a breadrack and did the
sort of things people do when they hang out on top of breadracks.




Yes, I assure you, that last
sentence made complete sense to one reader.




AnywayS, my planned finale isn’t
for a long way off.




But for when it does come, as I’ve
now said a couple of times now, I’d like to be thrown out of plane and fall
silently back to Earth while watching the night sky. That’d be pretty peaceful.




But why not take things a step
further?




Such as this evening when my
friend was discussing pills, I thought to myself, “Pills? Any asshole can take
pills! I’m Keith Fucking Blenman!”




Let’s build off the plane in the
night sky.




First, I’d like to be shoved out
of the plane by some bikini clad celebrity.




It doesn’t even matter which one.
Just as long as they’re famous enough for me to have heard of them, and they’re
in a bikini.




“Keith, we were able to get both
Rooney Mara and Danny DeVito on stand-by.”




…Okay, who in their life gets
thrown out of planes by a bikini clad Danny DeVito? Rooney Mara probably shoves
ten people out of planes a day. I mean, she has an awesome name and would
definitely look way better as the final person to ever make any sort of
physical contact with me, but I really thought Danny DeVito made for a great
Penguin in Batman Returns.




Given how depraved the rest of this entry is, that genuinely is a tough decision.




Anyways, I’ll let you guys decide
on your own celebrity in the comments section. “Who should shove Keith out of a
plane whilst bikini clad?” We can put it to a vote. Feel free to include
pictures.




But no, that’s not all. Once I’m
out of the plane, falling through the night sky, naked as the day I was born
with all my elderly wrinkles and twiggy bits flapping in the intense winds, I
want a target. I want to land on something.




My preference? Any of the faces
on Mount Rushmore will do. Ideally I’d like to smack
onto one of the foreheads and slowly slide down, only to peel off at the nose.
And then, if possible, fall into a group of starved, warring cannibals.




Of course when my suicide is
reported on in the media, in interviews I want all of my friends and family to
say, “It was political.”