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  • Writer's pictureMr Bigleys

My Suicide-ish* Note

Suicide - I think we can all agree that more people should give it a shot. For those of you who pride themselves as contrarians to this statement - the pro-lifers - simply take a moment to look around you.

Do you see it now? Unfortunately for us, humans are prone to being creatures of habit, causing those set to benefit the most from suey to get stuck in their mundane lifestyles.

Trust me - I get it; It's hard to find the time to off yourself while balancing that 9-5. By the time you get done fighting through rush hour traffic, your focus has already shifted from killing yourself to killing others. Besides, it's Taco Tuesday; You wouldn't want LeBron James' videos to serve as a constant reminder for your kids.

HEY! My cousin committed suicide! Are you seriously joking about suicide?!? Suicide is never funny!

Well, that's certainly not true. It sounds to me like the glass-half-empty gene runs in the family. Maybe if you considered congratulating your cousin on his accomplishments instead of stigmatizing them, he'd still be around. Only 4% of suicide attempts succeed. Harvard, on the other hand, has a 4.7% acceptance rate...but I bet you never thought of that way, did you, Susie?

The only reason you don't hear the Wendy William's, Oprah's, and Tony Robbins of the world encouraging a little suey is because it would negatively impact their bottom line. Who do you think is their target audience? It's certainly not happy people. I'm just saying that maybe we'd benefit a little if more people did encourage...

...point taken, maybe not. I guess what I'm getting at is that the .014% suicide rate in America seems far lower than it should be, right? I can't be the only one who can list 8-14 people off the top of my head where I'd be hard-pressed to find any legitimate argument against going for it. You're the irrational one if you can't wrap your head around the idea that the guy spraying fertilizer on your yard wants to take a nap in his '04 Corrolla while running inside a tightly sealed garage...assuming he owned a garage, of course.

I'm only joking, sort of. If you're having serious suicidal thoughts, call that one number that Logic raps about. There's so much more to live for, perhaps. That is unless you're a racist. In that case, you should absolutely go through with it. No curing you, Dale.

I'm getting way off topic: The purpose of this article is to write my own suicide note. Actually, I prefer the term "suicide-ish" note. My inspiration for this spawned after I recently received a pre-surgery letter from my mother. My mom tends to make it a challenge on how I should decipher the severity of these situations. It's a weird thing that she does; over exaggerating things. Before airplane flights, for example, she jots down impromptu will's on napkins in case the plane goes down. She's been claiming that my uncle is going to die every year for the past ten years. It just makes it difficult to gauge how serious certain situations are.

Still, it got me thinking about my own mortality. The only problem is that I'm far too healthy to die anytime soon. I've dabbled with COVID, unofficially beat AIDs twice, and according to WebMD, survived stage 4 brain cancer - all this year. The only way I'm going down at this stage of my life is if I do it myself, and with the move-in date for my new apartment inching closer and closer following a historic 26 year run of living at my parent's house, now's the time to do it. Killing yourself at age 26 in your parent's basement is just depressing. Doing it at your own place, on the other hand…well… that's just a young life full of potential, cut short.

With all that said, I’ve decided to write my very own pre-written suicide*ish* note. Here, I leave it for the world to read:

Hello friend and roommate (who will not be named for privacy reasons),

Yikes! Look’s like you found me! Remember when I said I’d paint the walls for us?

Oh, shit - Before you finish reading the rest of this, will you actually let the dog out? You know she has a weak bladder, and I would hate for you lose the security deposit for her peeing on the carpet. I’ll wait…

Appreciate that. Listen - I really didn't want you to be the one to find me. Being that you're already locked into this place for the next 13 months, things are going to get kind of eery. I tried setting it up so that a cleaning crew would discover me, but they canceled 10 minutes before I went through with this due to a positive COVID test. They'll be here next week Wednesday between 8 AM and 10 AM, barring any more positive cases, so if you want to leave me here until then, I think I should be fine. Just crank the AC and open the windows.

For your knowledge, I've planted some very gay paraphernalia around the apartment along with a second note - not explicitly stating - but certainly implying that we were gay lovers and that this was your fault. With my family already assuming I'm gay and your stout republican father, this is my final, and arguably, greatest joke yet.

Before searching for that, though, I have a list of requests:

First off, I would like to be buried with both my dog and computer. Feel free to keep the case to my MacBook, but the contents within are entirely too incriminating for the public to see. Out of context, you would think I was a bad person:

As for the dog, I've spent way too much time and money to simply give her away to some self-righteous asshole who wants to brag about how he rescued her. If I have to hear one more person shame me for buying my dog instead of rescuing it, I swear to God I'm going to ki...

With McGoober's only being a puppy, I've taken the liberty to photoshop a vet form stating that she has terminal cancer. With it, the Humane Society shouldn't ask any questions about her euthanization appointment next Thursday. I'll also need you to drive her to that. Thanks ahead of time.

As for the money, I’d be lying if I said I left you any. Please take my collection of police cards as consolation. With the whole “Defund the Police” thing going on, these should skyrocket in value.

If you sign into my Ally account, you'll find around $15,000 worth of stock. Cash-out and promise me that you won't give a single penny of that money towards any sort of charitable organization.

I wasn't a good person while I was here, and I'll be damned if I go out giving money to poor kids in a desperate attempt to beg for God's mercy. Unlike the plethora of millionaires who give away money for tax purposes, camouflaged as generosity, I know where I belong - Hell. I'm not here to conduct a last-minute PR campaign for my image. I refuse to allow the term "philanthropy" anywhere near my legacy.

On top of that, I have somewhere around $15,000 in my savings, plus another $40,000 coming from life insurance. It's been just over a year since I signed up for the policy, so we should be good. Remember when you taught me that little nugget of advice regarding the fine print in insurance policies? You have to wait a year before killing yourself to get your life insurance money... That's why you should never joke about suicide, you piece of shit. It's never funny.

All of that combined, you're looking at a grand total of $70,000 in cash. Hoping for more? Yeah, me too, or else I probably wouldn't have done this. I want….scratch that….I NEED you to take that money and start one last passion project for me. Use that cash to show up to auctions and outbid those who appear to have some sort of sentimental attachment to the item up for sale.

The inspiration for this idea came from a video of a kid who tried bidding on his dead father's vehicle. He lost, but don't worry; his dad was only a cop.

Granted, it's not every day that you'll find one of these stories at a police auction. I would advise the you go to estate auctions for foreclosed and bank-owned homes. It's places like these where you'll find a family member desperately trying to buy a few items that remind them of the person or home that they lost: Pictures, chairs - you know - simple things; Things that have absolutely zero intrinsic or nostalgic value to anyone besides the people who lived there or knew the people that lived there. These are the folks we'll target.

Ohh, fuck....I think you just pulled into the parking lot. Quickly, for my family: Tell them something along the lines of, "It wasn't all your fault." Make sure to stress the all. I don't want them thinking there's nothing they could have done. Can't let them off the hook that easily. That would just be a cop-out.

Finally, make sure this quote makes it on my gravestone:

It's the most significant assortment of words that I've ever assembled. Those 40 words are what I want to be remembered by...

P.S. Sorry for not finding a subleaser. All the best!


-The owner of

-The smartest hypocrite in the room

-Creator of the idea that you can put a 26.2 sticker on your car without ever actually running a marathon

-Firm believer that I could knock out a feather weight woman's boxer

-Young enough to still be considered as someone with potential, old enough for us all to know that's not true

-Grandson, nephew, cousin, son, brother, father?

Mister Bigleys

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