Monday, December 17, 2007

Old Scrote's Last Will and Testament

Being of as sound a mind as I have ever been of, I wish to make a public declaration of my last will and testament, not that I know the difference between a will and a testament.

But first, I wish to review the achievements of my life.
Erm. Right, that's done.
No, hold, stout yeoman, before I proceed, I think a brief resume of my astonishing sex life would be valuable for the instruction of posterity. Erm. Right, that's done too.
My father's will was as simple as it gets: "To my wife, Mabel, I leave all I possess." That's the kind of will that really pisses the lawyers off.
Mine is similar, but with more fancy legal jargon full of archaic heretofores and hereinafters. It just says: split everything between my two children, and if they predecease me, equally to their children, and if THEY predecease me, give it all to MacMillan Nurses.
I know a lot of you will be disappointed that I am not leaving anything to you, but I have made a provision of a tidy sum of money to be devoted to a post-interment party, with an instruction that you do not mourn my death, but celebrate my life. As I will not be there, except in spirit, I have already started celebrating. Now, where's the corkscrew?
Oh yes, and don't hold your breath. I intend to live long enough to claw back all the money I paid in taxes over the years. And long enough for the Prudential Pension Company to take out a contract on me: "That bastard Allsop REFUSES to die! Terminate him with extreme prejudice!"

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