Well according to the death clock thingy I will start pushing up daisies feb.1, 2035. So that means I will be dead when I am 54!!! WhAT THE h@%$!!! aND MY POOR DH will die march 11, 2027 at the age of 52!!! Sheesh we I guess we wont have to worry about taking space up in nursing home. Knowing my luck I will die doing some stupid thing like Falling off the ruff of a chicken coop, or flopping over like a beached whale in the shower. Ahhh well at least I wont be there to blush when they find my body. And go figure my DH gets to go first, that means I'll get stuck tieing up the loose ends. However my DH seen on TV the other day that they can bury you in a coffin customized by your favorite sports team. So he wants to be put in a Denver Broncos coffin, wearing his levis and a bronco jersey, and a hat that holds beers with a straw into his mouth. I would rather not be creamated. It doesnt sound real cool burning up into nothing. And I know if I were creamated I would probably end up as kitty litter.