A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT:
If any of us are ever in a plane crash together, and ultimately we survive in the wilderness by resorting to cannibalism, don’t feel bad about eating me, if I don’t make it. I’m not sensitive about stuff like that.
You could feed a family of six from my carcass for a week. I mean, don’t have a party over my corpse or anything. Just carve me up and get a fire going. Maybe see if you can scrounge up some sort of edible greens. You’re gonna need some roughage to, well, you know.
You’ll also want to be sure to save my femur bones. They’re huge and in pretty good shape. They’d make excellent war clubs.
And my knee caps…don’t forget about those. They’d make excellent dishes for holding little things, such as your spare change or dentures. You could also use them as missiles if you need to ward off any indigenous hostiles.
Don’t let anyone ever tell you that I don’t care about you, my dear readers. Please just make sure that I am dead before you decide to make use of these gifts I’ve offered unto you. I mean, if a guy’s gotta be dead, he might as well be useful.
