My fantasy funeral is better than yours

By Sarah Yule

Stop Buying Into the Airlines' Bereavement Fare Mythology ...

So here’s the deal. You want to pretend that you’re invincible. I get it, we’ve all been there. But
you need to get with the times. 2020 has ushered in a pandemic, and with it came an elevated
awareness of our mortality. And if you’re anything like me, Covid-19 isn’t the only thing
tarnishing your perfect picture of human health; there’s an empty package of Oreo cookies on
your desk that is doing that just as well. (Pro tip: If you wear a mask in your own home, you
can’t eat oreos with nearly as much efficiency. It’s basically free weight loss, so mask up!) So
now is the time to sack up and start planning your funeral!
Think about it, nobody knows you like you do, and the funeral is basically the only party that you
are guaranteed an invitation to. With BonBon cracking down on large gatherings, your
post-mortem plans are all you have left.
I got my start in the fantasy funeral biz when I was seven. This sounds odd, I am aware. But
mind you, I was a strange kid with even stranger parents. My dad and I would pass the time on
road trips imagining our dream memorial services. (sidenote: Hello father, I hope you opened
the link that I sent you to this article. Tuition well spent, don’t you think?) Here are some of the
highlights of what we came up with over the years.

  1. My service will take place in a funeral home that doubles as a crematorium. This is
    crucial.
  2. As soon as I perish, I have notified all who are close to me to begin preparing a set.
    About 10 minutes in length, each friend and family member will stand at the front of the
    room and address the large portrait of me, which will be propped up ahead of time. They
    will make jokes about me with no holds barred: nose jokes, fat jokes, mentioning that
    one time I was caught in the act of trying to stuff a family-sized container of uncooked
    pillsbury halloween cookies under my bed sheet to “save for later”, all the good stuff.
    Nothing will be off-limits at the Grand Roast of Sarah Yule, and I have already warned
    those speaking that I will haunt them for eternity if they go easy on me. They will get the
    crowd going with increasing numbers of knee-slappers.
  3. By the time friend number 3 takes the stage, there won’t be a dry pair of pants in the
    viewing room. And if you are peeing, you probably aren’t crying, and this is the plan. It’s
    a celebration of life, after all!
  4. At the end of the roast, a creepy older gentleman will materialize from the back room.
    More specifically, the man will be carrying me in an urn, fresh with my ashes, which were
    being prepared during the first half of the service. At this point, the man will take the
    microphone and announce that I was being roasted, while I was being roasted. This is
    why it is of the utmost importance that I am memorialized in a space that includes a
    crematory. If you thought the crowd was laughing before, now they’re really going.
    People are wheezing, falling to the ground. A few might even die from the lack of
    oxygen brought on by such a whacky turn of events; I mean COME ON, it’s a double
    roast. You don’t see those everyday.
  5. After Party at Denny’s, need I say more?
  6. As guests walk out of Denny’s, they will receive a t-shirt that reads: “Sarah died, and all I
    got was this lousy t-shirt”. Very much tourist, very “I survived the Bermuda Triangle.”
    With these amazing plans for my funeral, it is hard not to look forward to doom. Fearing death?
    Plan your funeral! You’ll barely be able to wait.

Why I Boycotted the Oscars this Year for the Third Time in a Row

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By Abby Stoudt

It’s Oscar season folks, and once again I boycotted the event. This was my third year in a row refusing to watch the Oscars. In my personal opinion, the Oscars haven’t been worth watching since 2017 when Trolls, the beloved DreamWorks animated film starring Anna Kendrick and Justin Timberlake, was nominated for best original song and then tragically lost to “La La Land.”

Sure, my opinions on Trolls may be “biased” because I first watched the movie during an “emotionally difficult” time in my life, but I don’t think that this information is relevant. Trolls is a heartwarming, emotional, life-changing movie. No other film franchise had the guts to try and do what Trolls did. What other movie would dare to make the world fall in love with those creepy 80’s toys? What writer would be bold enough to make a character in a children’s movie feel lifelong guilt for causing the death of their grandmother because they were singing “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler? What other director would choose to use the Gorillaz song “Clint Eastwood” to give background to a whole race of fantasy creatures? The answer is Trolls. They were daring enough to do all of these things and turn it all into a masterpiece, and yet didn’t win an Oscar.

Not to mention, the soundtrack goes off.

Other awards shows that I refuse to watch, after the tragedy of the 2017 awards season, are the American Music Awards, Annie Awards, Billboard Music Awards, Critics’ Choice Awards, Golden Globe Awards, Guild of Music Supervisors Awards, iHeartRadio Music Awards, Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards, Satellite Awards, Saturn Awards, St. Louis Gateway Film Critics Association Awards, Teen Choice Awards, and the World Soundtrack Awards. In all, Trolls was nominated for 28 awards and only won 3 that season.

I do not boycott the Grammys, Hollywood Film Awards, or Hollywood Music in Media Awards, however, because all three rightfully awarded Trolls the accolades that it deserves. (It should be noted that for these three awards, Trolls won for “Can’t Stop the Feeling,” the song that lost to “City of Stars” in the 2017 Oscars.)

If the sequel to Trolls, Trolls: World Tour, is nominated for any awards in 2021, I will watch the awards ceremonies for every one of which Trolls is a nominee. I will resume watching any awards show from 2021 on if they give Trolls: World Tour an award, as if 2017 never happened.