No, no. Not that jar of jelly. That's your crazy cousin Lenny.

Apparently the newest green trend in post-death preparation and storage is called aquamation.

Yes, they take your favorite relative and sit them in a vat of fat reducing potassium hydroxide for 4 hours and then pour out Uncle Stan's viscera and munch up his now soft gelatinized bones and return them to you. (They recommend your loved one being dead before this occurs as I imagine it's probably pretty painful.) The article I read then went on to describe that the remaining potash hash could be used as fertilizer. Yes, this is a brilliant plan. I want my applesauce to taste like dead hippies.

Obviously our mates down in Aussie-ville have gone off the deep end and are now worried that they're going to run out of room to put dead people. Um, Hello. . .The Outback? It's a vast, barren wasteland where nothing will grow but rabbits. So barren that less than 10% of the Australian population lives in the Outback. It's essentially a giant collection pit for rabbit pellets and dead Australians.

I'm not sure what's wrong with dumping people in a pine box in a hole with a marble slab set on top of it. I get that coffins now-a-days are the renovated backseats of the muscles cars from the 70's and are plush and posh and all. Honestly, I would just like someone to shove me in a pine box and plunk me in a hole unceremoniously. If a pine box made by felons is good enough for Billy Graham and his wife, then who am I to demand that I require a soft silk lining to ease my transition into the afterlife? I think it's odd that even in death we feel that we must overcompensate.

And make sure you get me in the ground the next day. None of this waiting and waffling and 900 visitations and crap. I'm dead. I'm gone. Get it over with so everyone can eat and get on with their lives.

But make sure they serve barbecue. I really like barbecue.