The Biography I'll Never Have

I find myself wondering what will happen when I finally kick the bucket. What will be my final biography? Or even my obituary? Will I do something grand enough to earn my own prestigious Wikipedia page? I doubt it. But if I did, I hope that my brief biography is so absurd that many will questions its validation.


Ideally, it would start like this:

Johnny Walker, author of the best-selling books, "Pardon Me, But is that Your Penis in my Soup?" and "I Swear I Didn't Mean to be so Charming: My Sexual Harassment Lawsuit" and of course  "I Just Shit My Pants: My Grand Journey to Below Rock Bottom," finally died today at the frail, empty age of 114 after jumping in front of several bullets for the Pope's secret illegitimate son.


The mid-section would just document my odyssey of failure and other mediocre achievements. I imagine my other "achievements" would just be failures in disguise but would seem like achievements because they were the first failures of their kind. There would probably be a section about how I spent millions of dollars that I borrowed from various banks to launch coffee beans into space with a trajectory for the Sun's orbit. This would ensure that I get the most extreme coffee roast possible. But it would fail one of two ways. Either I would just launch it directly into the sun on accident or the beans would come back too burned and full of deadly radiation to make coffee from. My next round of failures would probably be a bad batch of TV pilots that just remake Sanford and Son 6 different times with an all white midget supporting cast. Or possibly be a failed criminal kingpin of the no longer lucrative business of robbing trains for cattle.

I would hope the next section would deal with my bizarre personal life. Perhaps being known as a person who collects fine mustards but uses them to paint his house odd hues of yellow and uses the jars to collect hummingbird urine believing it has healing properties. Or maybe I'll have a neat subsection about my crippling addiction to plastic surgery; having everything enhanced well beyond societies standards for tolerably attractive.

I can't think of anything else absurd to say. Maybe I'll continue it later. Or maybe I'll leaving you wanting more on my fictional biography.