One can only hope that when the time comes, the obituary-gland won't fail you in your hour of need. If necessary, though, just take inspiration from the sublime obituary of Wyoming's James William "Jim" Davis, who you know is cool simply by virtue of having a "nickname" built into this name.
Read on for a man's obituary written as a man should write it:
Jim, who had tired of reading obituaries noting other's courageous battles with this or that disease, wanted it known that he lost his battle. It was primarily as a result of being stubborn and not following doctor's orders or maybe for just living life a little too hard for better than five decades...
He was sadly deprived of his final wish, which was to be run over by a beer truck on the way to the liquor store to buy booze for a date. True to his personal style, he spent his final hours joking with medical personnel, cussing and begging for narcotics and bargaining with God to look over his loving dog, Biscuit, and his family...
He would like to thank all "his ladies" for putting up with him the last 30 years.
During his life, he excelled at anything he put his mind to. He loved to hear and tell jokes and spin tales of grand adventures he may or may not have had...
In lieu of flowers, he asks that you make a sizeable purchase at your favorite watering hole, get rip roaring drunk and tell the stories he no longer can.
Short of having "he died tripping over his cock during a celebratory orgy to honor his triumph in a one on twelve cage fight for charity, surrounded by the naked and exhausted bodies of at least forty women," this might be the apex of postmortem tribute potential. We're xeroxing it and just plugging our name in for Jim's, just in case we finally encounter a hungry Ed Orgeron in a dark alley one fateful night in the not-so-distant future.