The one thing Coleman Sweeney donated that the commercial doesn’t mention: the title of World’s Biggest Asshole.
Because now that he’s gone someone’s going to step up and take his place.
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I heard they made a plane in his honor.
but before he had a name, he was just Walrus Man.
You mean Walrus Baby?
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I feel like these things should be related somehow.
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Naw. Sexist. I just get pretty easily emotionally manipulated by music cues and certain softball cheesy low-hanging emotional setups. Even now, forty years and a literal few hundred viewings later, the music swell behind the double sunset in Star Wars makes me tear up.
I get misty during life insurance commercials. It’s nothing physically wrong with me, I’m just a soft touch.
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I got quite emotional towards the end as well.
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Damn I do love the vintage stuff.
If there is duck tape, there surely must be assholes who may be described as bile ducks.
Awww,
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It would be perfect if there was one more headline above those three about the Trump jet with the 10 ft tall gold lettering.
Beautiful.
Makes me sad that my organs have been rode rough and put away wet, so I doubt they would be that useful to anyone. My plan though is to donate my body to be a practice cadaver for med students.
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I’m happy to give away all the soft tissue anyone could want (corneas, heart, liver, kidneys, lungs, whatever the hell anyone could use), but I really, really want my skeleton preserved and mounted on display in the foyer of my house. Preferably looking west. And posed in an entertaining fashion.
I could be put to no nobler use than to terrify the trick-or-treaters every Hallowe’en.
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Make arrangements for this before you snuff it, if you haven’t already made them. Unless you want to be used for griitting the drive. 
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Are you totally opposed to osteo-puppetry?
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Not even slightly opposed!
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Hey man, at least you want to be useful after you bite the big one. My brother wants to be cremated. He says he’s creeped out by the idea of someone else using “his” organs, walking around with a chunk of liver, or his heart.
Selfish, stupid dick. It’s not like he’d care once he’s dead. His theology says he’d be too busy giving jesus full-service blowjobs up in heaven to care about anything that happens on earth anyway.
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We have a Halloween skeleton in the basement, in a room vault/safe (19th century building, used to be common for furs and the family silver). When the kids were little, the first time a new friend came over they’d be brought down to the basement to look for something and encouraged to open the vault door*. Fun times.
*Kept in a locked-open position, so no danger of being locked in. I’m a responsible parent. 
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from what I learnt about you I kind of expect an asterisk with a few paragraphes of fine-print, full of fun and embarassing exceptions and parental stories : D
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