Thoughts For The Day: Don't Let Me Die In Dog Turd

When it comes to copping it, there are a few things you need ironed out, like - 'who's going to get rid of all me porn?'
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Is there any way you can die without stopping breathing? It's the asphyxiation part of dying that really bothers me you see. That and people finding my porn folders on my PC when they start clearing my stuff after I’ve gone. There should be a guy who visits you in hospital when your time’s nearly up, a specialist 'house clearer' unknown to your family and friends. For what would probably be a sizeable fee, he takes your keys, goes to your house & gets rid of the porn.

I'm not lucky enough to die in my sleep. That's all I ask really from life, but I know it won't happen. Not going to happen.  If it's the heart attack that took out both my parents, I hope it's not out in the street. I would hate to collapse on the ground, inches away from a dog turd.

Sometimes I take a change of clothing with me in case that heart attack does come. If I collapse, I want one paramedic working on reviving me, and the other getting me out of my clothes that have been on the ground and into the clean ones in my bag. I don't want them leaving me in the same clothes.

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