First, if you think ranting letters don't work... our video camera came back about a week after I posted that tirade to Precision Camera. Now we can get back to making videos of people kicking each other in the nuts.
Last week I wrote about how I was making my will. This is nothing to be concerned about - I'm not dying or anything - but my brother and I just bought a house and the lady who tells me how much taxes to pay told me I should make one, just in case. This is not a joke: it is my actual will. Congrats if you made it. If you didn't, that's your fault for not emailing me.
Last Will and Testament of Paul JuryTo my good friends and family members who emailed me back, I would like to bequeath the following things:
- Gabe Drucker gets my nice surfboard and my weight bench (and the weights, obviously).
- Josh Goldenberg gets my crappy surfboard and my boogie board, which he will inevitably need because he'll suck at surfing. Josh also gets my lava lamp.
- Sam Greenspan gets my IMac Computer and my share of Panda Smash, in hopes that he will use both to continue to inflict ridiculous videos upon the world. Unrelatedly, Sam also gets my Exercise Ball.
- Greg Kolb gets all three of my Roadtrip posters, unless he wants to give one somebody else, since two of them are duplicates.
- Annie Kampinen gets my African Chess set. I appreciated her terse email response to my sentimental announcement of my will… while other emails expressed concern that I was making a will, her email simply read: "I'll take the Chess Set".
- Seann Verde gets my Ipod, and on it all the Techno music he introduced me to.
- Charlie Lucas my TV/VCR. I no longer have the Wildlife Cards he wanted, but maybe he can watch National Geographic on the TV.
- Malea Stenzel gets my CD collection, although she will be disappointed to discover it does not actually contain and 'Sir Mix-A-Lot' CD's. It does contain 'Prodigy', though.
- Kristy Kussman gets my football.
- Sean Wesche gets my Laptop computer, on which he will find all the files for our past musical projects together. I hope that he will use these to pursue further productions. He also gets any remaining copies of the 'Stars So High' and 'Barely a Bear' CD's that I haven't been able to pawn off on unsuspecting agents.
- My brother Mark gets my share of our house, 818 Commonwealth, although I'd ask that he let my current roommates live there for at least a little longer. They really like playing caps in the living room.
- My brother Alex gets my car, even though his car is nicer than mine. At least mine doesn't break down all the time. He may keep it, sell it, beat it with a bat, or drive it through the front window of Scott Robinson Honda, whichever he prefers. And no, Alex cannot have my soul. I'm keeping that, in hopes that it will come in handy in the afterlife. Besides, according to him, he already owns the soul of his friend Ben Bercher, and two souls is enough, even for a big guy like Alex.
- Mark and Alex get equal of my Super Nintendo, controllers, cords, and games, especially NBA Jam and Super Bomberman 2. They're required to let the Blue Bomber win, occasionally, in my honor.
- To my mother and father Linda and Phil, I leave all of my writing.
- The rest of my money and assets (and any of the above items that can't be accordingly bequeathed because somebody went out with me) are to be split up equally between the surviving members of my immediate family, Phil, Linda, Mark and Alex Jury. A garage sale might be in order, because some of my stuff is pretty awesome.
If I should ever fall into a coma or vegetative state, I'd like to remain alive until there is no hope of my being able to awaken and regain at least some of my mental capacity. That is, I'd like to still be able to teach at least very dumb kids how to take the SAT. Or, you know, be aware of what's going on around me.
If all hopes of this recovery fade, it's OK to pull the plug, although I'd like somebody to try to feed me one last fried oyster before I go.
Paul Philip Jury