Status Updates From Eurotrash

She's always told me, my mother, that she could no longer swim in the Lake Zurich, even since Margie J, her best friend, had employed the Swiss company Exit for her suicide and decreed that her ashes then be strewn over the clear, pleasant waters of the lake. My mother had said she'd swallow a bit of lake water by accident while swimming, and then she'd be drinking Margie and that was a ghastly notion to her.