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Cremated and scattered to the 4 winds
I'll find my own way back to my favorite places
or find new ones.
When you cremate me thou,
leave my wedding ring on my hand and
a pocketknife in my pocket.

My wife and I wish to be cremated and, upon the death of the survivor, have our ashes commingled. Then a portion to be scattered at the oceanside place where I proposed marriage, a portion to be scattered at our camp and the rest interred in the cemetery.

Strapped on to of a 55gal. barrel of black powder somewhere in the Kallahari desert. All my friends get a shot with tracer rounds the one that hits it gets first choice of guns and saddles.

Don't see much point in leaving my carcass to rot in the ground for hundred years, only to have it dug up again for public housing in the 22nd Century.

Thinking a bit more, likely smack dab in the middle of the clearing behind the house.



Or if my wife decides, maybe near here. Last shovel for that bastid...

Just cremate me and toss my ashes in a prairie dog burrow, or toss them out on a Missouri hilltop above where the deer tromp around. I don't care.........

Left instructions for a couple of lifelong friends to dump my ashes in my favorite Striped Bass spot. No sense getting buried, who's gonna visit me anyways.

Thanks for the replies, fellas. Something I just never gave serious thought to,,but should.

Dress me up in a pair of Liberty overalls then fling my flailing, lifeless carcass down stream into the Kentucky River with a giant economy sized trebuchet (constructed own site) at Boonesboro while Led Zepplin's Kashmir is blastin' out own 11 on an old Pioneer 1010 stereo.

A boomer hillbilly,......goin' in style.

I'd like to have my body recycled back to nature on some mountain top, but it's not allowed. Cremation is the next legal thing... don't bind me in a stinking hole, set me free.

Kent

My dirge,...broadcast at ear ringing volumn, as my body sails through the air,...arms and legs all asunder,..a cheer rises from the assemblage until my personal glob of carrion splashes in 75 yards downriver,...where a murmer of approval will erupt from the bong and vodka infested audience,...and one or more attendees will state,..

"Well,...there's the last of Bristoe.

That fugger was crazy,..".

,..which will elicit emphatic nods all around.

I have my own cemetery at the farm and will be planted there. I suppose I should give the plot to the church next to it some day. It is presently occupied only by my mother and father, but there is lots of room for more friends, relatives, and neighbors. I could get out the post hole digger for you folks who want to be cremated.

I'd Like To Be Cremated. But In A Douce, And Run Through One More Time...

Cremate me, have a party,dump me by my deer blinds!!!! Clint

The instructions for my final earthly trip....Cremation as quickly as possible....have a meet and eat get together for all family and friends....then have my sons scatter my ashes on the river bluff at a time convenient to them....

I want to be cremated then have my ashes put as close as possible to the place I died.
The way I see it that's where I ended up so that's where I'm meant to be.

I want to be buried face down under the cool green grass,then all the world can kiss my ass.

Mark Twain once said that he decided to make his final arrangements in advance. He went to a preacher and said he wanted to be cremated. The preacher said 'That's already been arranged'.

We bought plots where a goodly number of our family are planted. In a little, old cemetary out in the middle of nowhere, on top of a hill. I have instructed in my will that I am to be cremated. What happens after that . . . I really don't care, but it would be cool to have some of me be right under a 535 gr lead slug in a 45-120 case and turned loose one more time . . .

I would like my ashes to be divided up and scattered upon the grounds of my enemies.

Unfortunately there is not enough of me to go around.