no bucket to kick

Everyday when I get to work, I go into the kitchen to pour myself some coffee, usually spilling it everywhere. I have a hard time pouring coffee out of coffee pots, so if you ever invite me over for coffee, I suggest you pour my cup for me. Maybe even get me a sippy lid or a straw (a bendy one, pink).
How do I take my coffee?
Like I take my souls, black and sugary sweet.
The coffee is poured, but the sugar: there is none. I go to the sugar drawer, withdraw the sugar, walk back to the counter and AS I am pouring the sugar into my coffee, the microwave beeps. I didn’t set it. It wasn’t ON, yet, here it is, beeping.
Oh Microwave, Master of the Kitchen Appliances, One who makes my food ready to eat in less than 2 minutes, what do you have to tell me?
The display panel reads: END.

So, yeah… totally gonna die today. Mark your calendars, the funeral will be on Sunday. My favoritest flowers are gardenias, lilies, jasmine, and yellow roses. Wear black.
There will be a scavenger hunt afterwards. I have been devising it for years.

I know that there will only be a handful of people who actually GO on the hunt because they know. They know me.
If I care enough to bury something in the desert, years prior to my death, "You fucks better care enough to carry out my last wish and go dig it the hell up!". That, by the way, is how the hunt directions start off, which is why probably, my family will not be on this adventure. I kinda was also hoping to have some jokes told at my funeral too, at my expense, of course. I don’t want to offend people or anything. Maybe even a puppet show about how I died, which means, if I don’t die tragically, the puppet show will be very boring and everyone will get up and leave in the middle. Someone in the back will scream out – THIS FUNERAL FUCKING SUCKS! - and there will be crying and stuff.

Sweet.