Maybe I choose to write about this subject because I’m road tripping to Death Valley this weekend and I really don’t want to die out there.  I’m a writer and thus like word-play.  But think of my post Death Valley death obituary.  It would say, “Jason Freeman died in Death Valley.”  Having “died” and “death” in the same sentence would just be too much.  It would almost be like I stopped living twice….

in the same sentence no less and forgot my grammar manners to boot.  So on my trip to DEATH valley, I intend to bring 20 to 30 gallons of water and be sure my gas tank never goes below 14/15th full.  This means I’ll be stopping for gas every every seventeen or twenty miles, filling up and using the restroom.   All because I really don’t want to die from dehydration in the middle of nowhere.  Truth be told, I don’t want to die of dehydration anywhere.


Come to think of it, how do I want to die?

I don’t want to die
in a car crash,
in a plane crash,
by drowning,
by poisoning,
by bullet,
(or bullets)
from a heart attack,
from cancer,
from strangulation,

AND I sure don’t want to die from having a million napkins suddenly fall on my head at a napkin warehouse or God forbid a penny dropped from the top of the Empire State Building.  Most certainly NOT.

I’ve heard people lying in coffins don’t move much, and golly I sure enjoy moving.  Maybe, I will be cremated so I can avoid the coffins.  But I have to say, I’ve seen a bunch of ashes before and they appear to be nothing like the face I enjoy seeing when I look in the mirror.  Oh, and I hate funeral homes.  I guess the flowers are nice and all, but way too many dead people.


I hate to be morbid.



That’s why I’m telling you I don’t want to die.  What’s more morbid than actually dying?

Many people say they want to die peacefully in their sleep with family and friends surrounding them.  BUT I would far rather wake up that next morning and go for breakfast with my family and friends.  (I bet they would even buy my meal to celebrate me not dying in the night.)

Thus, I want to write this blog perfectly.  Because if I’m perfect, I’ll never have to die.  See the pic above?  I want to live eternally, exactly like that.

I know that eating beans, doing yoga, going on walks, taking probiotics, wearing a belt and seat belt won’t save me from having to die one day.


So I’m hoping that just maybe writing this blog PERFECTLY will be my gateway to a life of pure perfection and living forever here on earth.


BUT I’m already questioning my word choices in the second paragraph and my sentence structure in the fourth paragraph completely stinks and the similes are kind of stiff like a dead body and worst of all I don’t know how to end this blog and aside from all that, this is a huge run on sentence which is probably making a bunch of 16th century English teachers turn in their graves if there’s anything left of them to turn.

I feel like I’ve just opened up forty cans of worms, and 32 cans of maggots.


This blog is disintegrating like a corpse that has been in the ground 6 and a half years.


Ok, writing those sentences felt a bit roadkill skunk-level disgusting.


I’m starting to feel like I’m digging a deeper and deeper hole for myself.


Oops!  That probably wasn’t the right thing to say.




Jason’s book, Awkwardly Awesome: Embracing My Imperfect Best, available on Amazon in Kindle or Paperback!

It’s But a Small Click Away…