Nearly all deaths are sad and shocking, making us cry out, “Why? Why did this happen? It’s so unfair!” Unfair indeed, although it’s a fact of life, nothing can live forever. Especially Sex. If you attended Sex’s funeral, what would you wear? You have many options and in a certain way each will show your individual respect for this great loss.

So um… Hey baby, what are you wearing?
• Your Sunday Best
• Business-Casual
• Sporting Gear
• Scantily Clad (Pimp, Ho or Fetish-wear)
• Nude
• None of my business.

Every time you’ve stopped having sex, whether by choice or circumstance, you should hold a funeral until you figure out a way to bring it back to life. Mourning the loss of a loved one is an important, necessary way to accept the truth and get on with your life.

Sex has been around forever, meanwhile it has also died a million deaths, buried but miraculously clawing its way out of the box, coming back to life throughout the ages. Ancient Egyptian scrolls as well as modern day tomes have been written on how to resuscitate Sex. Hell yeah, maybe you’ve bought one or two of these books (or you’re a cheap person who refuses to support writers and instead prefer Google).

Humans’ days are numbered due to global warming and worldwide stupidity. Scientists claim cockroaches will eventually rule the earth, but the only way they can do it is by having sex.
Have you ever seen a cockroach have sex?
Just before it’s crushed beneath your shoe, that’s indeed what it was doing, getting busy, making love. The only reason it invades your pantry is to build strength for more sex. In a way we may hate roaches for that very reason.
They get free room and board, are unencumbered by any dogma, rules or tradition. Add insult to injury, they also do-the-sex way more than we humans could ever imagine. And as said, they’ll rule the earth. Instead of squashing Romeo Roach under a sneaker, shake one of its hands.
.
.
Perhaps you’re having sex these days. Maybe Sex is alive, and kicking (if you’re into that sort of thing.) Regardless, there will come… there will come a day, a dark, dry day when Sex is laid to rest. Get ready for that day. As the Boy Scouts say, “Be prepared.” Which is much better than what Girl Scouts are forced to say, “Wanna buy some expensive fattening cookies?” But I veer… get your funeral clothes ready, prepare your tearful speech… Also be in shape, hairdo intact, emotional state in order for the day Sex returns. It’ll return.
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If you’re the type to use the same password for every site, I hope it’s a difficult one.
Something super hard to figure out, like: QRTxxxv2569286v~!*
That’d make people think you were deep, complicated and had a memory of steel.

Or, um, is it more like: Your First Name + Birth Year? – Sue1985 or Fred1946 – perhaps?
That would leave everyone imagining you were a simpleton, but a dolt with nothing to hide.

I hear quite a few people use the formula: First Pet’s Name + The First Street You Grew Up On
to decide a password, and that’s a bit safer. Or maybe that’s only a password used for peeking into Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee’s bedroom.

Here’s the question, if, God forbid, you decided to abandon your current life and disappear into a country with no extradition treaty… thus leaving unsuspecting relatives behind to clean up or take over your social networking sites, how would your chosen passwords reflect upon your legacy?

With that in mind I decided to change all passwords from things like: Ihate9876people,
to something more friendly, like: PeepsBeSoCoolMeLoveYouAll69, as well as smart stuff like: Nietzsche~#1.

I also granted certain social network account passwords to specific dear ones in my last begotten Will.
It’ll be doled out as follows:

My mother gets the Facebook because she’s older and that’s a comfortable place for the elderly. Just sayin.

My brother gets the Myspace because there are a lot of naked girls and he’s into that sort of thing.

I leave my Twitter to Ashton Kutcher because I figure, every once in awhile, he’d love to be an unknown, rarely followed, often blocked tweeter.

And last but not least, I bestow my Gmail to the Pentagon. I bet they could finally find the WMDs they seek after reading a few of my sent emails TO Ex-BFs from over the years.

->YO<-
Who would you leave your social network accounts to?
Your Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, Youtube… to whom, who scores which of these? WHY?
* What are the passwords for these particular accounts?
Have you ever seen the Pam Anderson, Tommy Lee video? I heard it was a big, huge,
very large deal, a long, lengthily long time ago.