Why I Want My Funeral to Be Open-Casket and Also Fully Nude

I consider myself a realist. That’s why I don’t mince words or sugar coat my feelings when it comes to talking about death: it’s an inevitable part of life, and it’s gonna happen to us all one day. So I’ve made sure explain to my friends and family what I’m looking for when it comes to my posthumous services. Much to their chagrin, I want my funeral to be open-casket, and also fully nude.

 

I know that to some people, my request might sound a little unconventional, or even inappropriate. But I want my loved ones to be able to see me one last time before I am laid to rest. And I want them to be able to remember me in death the way I loved to be in life: stark naked with my hot body visible for all to see and my toned arms tightly by my sides. I owe them that much.

 

My mother has begged me to reconsider. She’s said that, should anything ever happen to me, she’d be double devastated at the reality of losing her only daughter and also at the fact that her daughter’s frankly perfect tits and big, hairy muff would be on display to her closest family members and friends, including children and the elderly. I’ve tried to reassure her by telling her that she has full control over how the undertaker styles my pubic hair. I want her to at least have that.

 

 

My father is even worse. He says that he would not be able to deal with the pain of having to see his daughter not only dead in a box but also booty ass naked in that box. But I think he’s just shaken up by the reality that one day, his little girl, his pride and joy, is going to pass away. Don’t even get me started on what my brother has said to me.

 

I’ve tried to reassure them, but they simply will not accept that I want to go out of this world the way I came in: with my bare boobs and clam out, for all to see.

 

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid to die, and I’m certainly not afraid for my third grade teacher or my old aunts or my little cousins or my next door neighbor or my former babysitter or my 8th grade crush or even my priest to see the gifts that God and puberty gave me while I was alive. It is my wish to leave this world in my full glory, and I can only ask that my loved ones respect it.