having the last slice

cake 3

 

Here’s my bucket list

When the doctors give me my final timeline amongst other things I am going to:

Run naked across the Governor General’s front lawn as my protest to British imperialism– Quentin is an understanding woman, I am sure she understand and I will wear the pearls; obviously only the pearls.

Rob a bank – I figure they owe me the money for all their excessive bank charges and I’ll be dead before I go to trial anyway

Update the stick list and get a bigger and rougher stick that will leave splinters when I beat them senseless. Or maybe they already are senseless and that is why they are on my stick list?

Poop on Rupert Murdoch – in a most elegant way of course, but I will eat fibre for the two days prior.

Tell Prince Charles what a bugger he was for marrying a woman he didn’t love and lying to her all the way.

Ask the Pope if he is catholic

Line all my former bosses up in a row and tell them what twits we all thought they were; before I beat them senseless with my thick, rough stick.

Sit in the public gallery during parliament and every time Tony Abbott speaks yell out “’ya mother wears army boots” or something

I can’t print here.

Eat all the cheese I want

Start eating sugar again – what’s it gonna do, kill me?

So that means chocolate for breakfast.

Not wash for two weeks in the peak of summer and invade personal spaces.

Throw my own wake and listen to everyone declare how much they love and adore me, and how they won’t be able to live without me.

Wear my favourite pyjamas all day and everywhere I go – except for when I am doing the nudey run across the GG’s lawn, but soon after.

Stop being polite to people with opposing views.

Order my own tombstone to read; “she died kicking and screaming and really pissed off”.

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7 thoughts on “having the last slice

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