-Your social media photos should be bangin' because that's what's going to be on the 5 o'clock news. Back in the 90's when someone died, an immediate relative or significant other provided a polaroid of THEIR choice to the media. When I was a teenager, I used to worry that my mother would be the one with this responsibility. Which would surely be a photo that she took with her disposable Walgreens camera under fluorescent lighting, with the flash on, where I am doing something unflattering like blowing out birthday candles or speaking. The most unpleasant photographs are those taken in mid-sentence where someone is saying "Don't take a picture of me!" My mother has albums filled with images like this. Why? Because she doesn't give proper advisory that she is about to take a photo. The woman is constantly holding a camera. If you know anyone who has peculiar pictures of you in their possession, you should seek them out and have them destroyed. If this person puts up a fight by saying "You look nice there. What are you talking about?" Do what one of my brother's friends from Queens would do: Kick them in the shin, take a photo of them on the floor screaming while grabbing their now painful shin and say "Oh yea, you look nice there too. You and your douchebag camera." Then go to the 7-11 and eat a Taquito. Only because this is a very post battle victory Guy from Queens thing to do.
-Tell someone really close to you to monitor the mortuary beautician. I know, this is extremely vain and all but if I'm going to be laid out on a display in front of the very same people I spent all my life getting dressed up and perfecting my hair for, there's no way in hell I'm going to go out with bad rouge, mauve lipstick and a velvet dress. I don't know if this comes along with some burial package: Updo, airbrush foundation, ivory casket, velvet dress but I do not want this package.
-Give someone you trust your Facebook password. You don't want to be dead and still be receiving shitty event invites. Death is a time for peace. Also be completely convinced that this person will be creepy on your behalf. If your trusted Facebook death confidant were to receive a notification of a comment left for you such as "You were a beautiful person, inside and out. You will be missed" they should respond with "Thanks for the comment. See you on the other side." Or "I'm watching you but you can't see me. BOO! Where am I?? LOLOL." They should also like your friend's status updates occasionally and post links to dreadful Buzzfeed articles from your account. That way you are annoying to the living who waste their life on Facebook yet also super eerie.
-Try to not have anything too bizarre hidden in your home. When things are kept locked up or buried that are seemingly zany, it is apparent that you would feel quite mortified if someone were to discover these possessions. This is why they are kept in a sock, in a box, with a lock, in a drawer, down a tunnel, underground and not on a bookshelf. If foul play were to be found in my case, I suspect a proper inspection of my apartment were to be necessary. Which is to my dismay because as an extremely private person, knowing that some forensics dude will be rummaging through my belongings way back in the depths of my closet irks me to no end. There you will find a blow up doll still blown up wearing a White Castle tee shirt, a yellow space suit, an eye patch, packets of lube I've collected from 3 years worth of Santa Monica Blvd parades and my JOURNAL where all my mushy sappiness is revealed without limits. Horrifying. We all have strange objects in our home. Sometimes they happen to be strange objects that also function as a sex toy. I don't have sex toys for a reason. Reason being if I were to have one, it would have to be the stupidest toy on the market. And I would go ahead and leave it out on the coffee table to give the apartment a flair of sexy oomph. Yet, no one does this in real life so if you are feeling a cold come on, quickly grab your dumbest vibrator that is in the shape of something like a hippo (they make those) and throw it down an incinerator, pronto.
-If you are going to leave the house to pick up some stuff, make sure you're not only picking up one thing. I do this thing where I leave the house to buy a banana. Everyday. I know I could realistically go out one day and buy something like 16 bananas but for some reason I don't. If I went out to do this daily routine and got ran over by a bus on my way, word would get out and that would be it. I would ultimately be, “The Girl Who Got Ran Over By a Bus On Her Way To Buy 1 Banana” for eternity. Have it so that before you leave the house you have a sufficient amount of errands to run. Getting killed on the way to work is one thing, but getting killed on the way back from picking up your fluff and fold laundry from the fluff and fold laundry place is not a heroic feat. And then everyone will know you were a schmuck who never learned how to wash your own clothes.
That's my list of stuff to do to in order to be remembered as a beautiful person and not a creepazoid. By writing this, I have had thought about death for the entire day. Now I must delete my search history that I’ve accumulated in order to prove to myself that there are indeed hippo shaped vibrators just in case I explode later today by lighting incense too close to my highly flammable hair product ridden head. Which is the likelihood of my demise from this life after all.