Chris Johnson

Chris Johnson flips ahead to final chapter, writes his obit

I’m sure you’ve seen those obituaries obviously written by the deceased — I assume before they were deceased — which are laced with humorous tidbits like, “Earl skidded into the afterlife in a used-up carcass reeking of beer and baloney.”

I, too, plan to write my own obituary. But the problem with writing your own obituary is that you don’t get to see it published or see everyone’s reaction to it. Therefore, I’ve decided to not only pre-write my obituary but also to pre-publish it. In fact, I’m doing just that today. So, please join me today in saying goodbye to a truly great man, me:

Chris Johnson surprisingly crossed over into that mysterious other dimension yesterday despite being in incredible shape for his age of 136, and he no doubt would have lived to be at least 150 if he hadn’t been hit by that train. And, as we all know, lots of respectable people have been hit by trains.

Chris toiled for many years in the newspaper business before Americans became immune to facts. He then retreated to his mancave to write 27 successful novels, ultimately winning the 2046 Nobel Prize for Literature for the emotional tear-jerker “Super Possum,” which was turned into a movie starring Ed Asner in one of his final roles.

Chris used the riches from his writings and movies to purchase the Atlanta Braves, a franchise he resurrected with the revolutionary concept of adding baseball players to the team.

Upon learning of his passing, President Kardashian, “Chris — what’s his last name again … oh yeah — was like really cool and stuff and wrote good and, you know, whatever. Hashtag sad. Frowny face.”

Chris said that the secret to his youthful appearance at the age of 136 was due to his regimen of meditation (during which he would repeat an old Nepalese mantra that when translated into English sounds a lot like a snore) and Saturday night margaritas.

He was known to love the Georgia Bulldogs, golf, kayaking, strumming his guitar and the music of Jimmy Buffett, who performed a private concert for Chris’ 50th birthday.

He is survived by his wife, who is still smoking hot at the age of 137 and was quoted as saying, “Whew! I thought he’d never leave!”

Strangely enough, Chris was also quoted after communicating with a psychic named Sister Mary Lou, who reported him as saying, “Wow, you should see the view from up here!”

Chris was preceded in death by 114 billion other people.

There will be no visitation as Chris often said, “I don’t visit.” However, there will be a luau-style life celebration complete with Jimmy Buffett tunes, a pig roast and free margaritas at CJ’s All-You-Can-Eat Fish House, the restaurant he co-owned on St. Simons Island. There will be a strict dress code for the occasion as everyone will be required to wear shorts, flip-flops and their favorite t-shirt. Afterward, Chris’s ashes will be dumped into the Atlantic Ocean.

Chris asks that in lieu of flowers that donations be made to the Floundering Florists Foundation, supporting floral arrangers whose business has been decimated by the phrase “in lieu of flowers.”

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