For Father’s Day, give your dad a fake paternity test that says he's not your father. He deserves to be happy for a day.
— James Breakwell, Exploding Unicorn (@XplodingUnicorn) June 7, 2013
There are no funeral homes that let you catapult the corpses of your loved ones over the walls of your enemies. I plan to fill that niche.
— James Breakwell, Exploding Unicorn (@XplodingUnicorn) June 7, 2013
I only hate my body when it makes me throw up perfectly good alcohol because it thinks I’m going to die. It’s such a pussy sometimes.
— James Breakwell, Exploding Unicorn (@XplodingUnicorn) June 7, 2013
There’s a rumor going around that I’m spreading rumors about myself. It’s not true. Pass it on.
— James Breakwell, Exploding Unicorn (@XplodingUnicorn) June 7, 2013
“It’s not paperwork. It’s paper fun!”—me, before I pass out from sniffing permanent markers
— James Breakwell, Exploding Unicorn (@XplodingUnicorn) June 7, 2013
I always wanted my body to be cremated and put into a paint by numbers kit of Elvis riding a tiger.
I wish you a lot of luck with the funeral plan. I personally, would like to invest. I think it might add a certain sense of fun to the whole morbid ritual.
I can’t tell you how many elderly people I run into who tell me, “When I’m gone, I want my body to be used as a projectile in siege warfare.” It’s one of those universal human desires.