Sometimes I worry about what happens to dead bodies when they’re found.

What if I die on a mountain? Is some mountain man going to find me dead, and start playing with my body? Is he going to use string to turn me into a marionette? Is that the purpose of rigor mortis? To protect our bodies from being playthings for bored puppeteers? And what if he sticks my penis in his butthole, and pretends someone loves him? What if he brings me home and sits me in a chair, and comes home every night, and pretends I’m his wife? What if my dead body remains in his house on a mountain for 30 years, as he comes home every day, and tells me about his job as a lumberjack? What if he makes the same joke everyday?

This is why I’m going to plan to bring a bomb on a boat, and sail it into the middle of the ocean. I’m just going to buy a boat with cash, and not worry about storage, or boat fees, or anything. Just gonna buy a boat, and sail into open water where nobody will find me, and blow up the bomb. Nobody but me on the boat.

But what if my lack of nautical cartography experience means I sail the boat into water that isn’t international. Maybe I accidently start a war with Russia. I mean, it won’t affect me. I’ll be dead, and at the bottom of the ocean, and unavailable for comment.

But YOU GUYS??? Geez. Have fun with a nukeular holocaust against a country that thinks it was bombed first. World War 3 is going to be SO stupid.

It’ll be like the pointlessness of Vietnam, but also being led by drunk Russians.

So, yeah. We all worry about things. Sometimes I worry that when I pull back the shower curtain, there will be an unexplained bear just hanging out in my bathtub. Just in there defying logic.