When I go…

When I go, I don’t want a big fuss. I fully intend to be around for a long time yet and then I’ll just quietly slip off if that’s OK.
No lying in state for a week (especially if it’s summer) for people to come and pay their last respects and comment on how I’m looking so much better than I did last week (when I was, at least, alive).
No fancy horse-drawn carriage parade through the street while crowds of wailing locals throw flowers and rocks as I pass by. I don’t need that.

All I really ask is a few close friends and family, Morten Harket’s Spanish Steps and some decent tuna and cucumber sandwiches at the wake.

Oh – and not to be stuck in the back of a Medi-Sprint bakkie next to some TB specimens and a box of flat-bottomed 96-well assay plates.
If that’s not too demanding.

People ask why I’m always carrying my camera around with me. Well, it’s because if I didn’t, I’d miss stuff like this.

I have no idea where Medi-Sprint were delivering it to, but I guess there probably wasn’t actually any real need to sprint, when you think about it.

Medi-Sprint’s tagline is: We Deliver – You Relax.

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