Death be not proud


Last week, I accidentally sliced open the palm of my hand. It was one of those cuts that doesn’t start bleeding right away — a cut that pauses, like it’s just as shocked by the whole thing as you are. I looked at it and said, “OUCH! Did I cut myself? No? No? Yes? Yes. Shit.” And my body said, “Wait…what the fuckity fuck just happened? Did you — am I — well, crap. Nice one, Einstein. Aaaaaaaaaand here comes the bleeding.”

Because I am me, I thought about how incredibly funny it would be if the whole thing had gone differently and this was how I died. What if — instead of slicing open the palm of my hand — the cut was a few inches lower and had gotten my wrist? And then I bled out because I couldn’t remember where I left my phone and couldn’t call an ambulance?

Here’s how the story in the next day’s Seattle Times would have looked:


She loved snacks. That’s what anyone who knew Meredith Bland would tell you. Sadly, it was that love of snacks that killed the mother of two last night in her Wedgwood home.

Officials aren’t yet sure what killed the 35-year-old, who was found bleeding out on her kitchen floor, a box of Target fruit snacks next to her. “At the moment we do not suspect foul play or suicide. We believe this was a case of incredible stupidity.” CSI investigators — speaking on the condition of anonymity — say that they think Ms. Bland tried to catch a falling box of fruit snacks, which was dislodged when she was trying to reach some crackers located directly behind them. They say that it is likely — amazing as it sounds — that in her desperate attempt to catch the box before it hit the floor, the cardboard sliced open her wrist.

“When are people going to learn,” mused one officer, “it’s just not worth it. Let the fruit snacks fall, man. Just let them fall.”

I am, in fact, terrified of death. It is my greatest fear. But more than just the fact of death, it’s the HOW of death that worries me. Given the fact that — as I have established in my on-going post series — I am an idiot, I am deeply concerned that I will die in some incredibly stupid and preventable way. I was reminded of this when I read a story about a man here in Washington state who died in Olympic National Park after being attacked by a goat.


Do you believe it?! Goats — the dogs of the barnyard — are, apparently, nothing to fuck with. Just read this article from the website “All Things Goat” (best website name ever, by the way). This makes me question the wisdom of petting zoos. Unless…UNLESS…we are playing right into goats’ hands (I mean hooves). What if this is their genius plan to kill us all?

“We’ll get them nice and comfortable, see. They’ll put us in pens with their children, all cute and friendly-like. Then, one day, when they least expect it, we will sound our war cry. From the children in the petting zoos to the hippies in the woods, we’ll butt them all to death. Then, we’ll charge the rest and eat all of their apples and footwear. MEEEEEEEEEEEEH!”

Moments before the slaughter (image via sxc)

This is no joke, people. In 1991, a 77-year-old man in Georgia, named Carl Hulsey, was “butted to death” by a pet goat he had trained to act as a guard dog. Oh, the humanity. To have “butted to death by guard goat” on your death certificate. It almost doesn’t matter what else you did in your life up till that point — it fades into the background once you hear, “butted to death by guard goat.” Let me show you:

RIP Nina Smith: philanthropist, scholar, author, and activist, butted to death by guard goat named “Samson.”

Which part got your attention? That’s right. Death by fucking goat.

That’s why this whole “cutting my hand open on a box of fruit snacks” incident makes me nervous. It’s the kind of stupidity that brings me closer and closer to a goat-induced death.

So mark my words — put “Meredith Bland, ” “death,” and “goat” into your Google alerts, and then wait.

It’s coming.

Author: admin

Meredith likes to write the funny at her blog, Pile of Babies (


  1. You can get killed by goats? Well, thanks, Meredith. Thanks for giving me yet another possible way I could die to worry about. Bitch. 🙂
    Ashley Austrew recently posted..Touchy Strangers, Part 2My Profile

  2. No. Not goats. They wouldn’t… oh, but it looks like they would. Yikes.
    When I Blink recently posted..Pumpkin Pimping: It’s A ThingMy Profile

  3. I fear freak accidents, too, but for my kids not me. But it is also because of my stupidity. But thanks for the tip to avoid goats. That makes them a little safer.
    Kathy at kissing the frog recently posted..We’re More Alike Than DifferentMy Profile

  4. we play a game called ‘stupidest obituary ever’, which follows the near death experiences of people in ridiculous circumstances. one of my favorites so far is a co-worker who claimed to have ‘almost died’ from a cucumber slice leaping off his Subway sandwich and lodging in his throat and had plans to go to the emergency room because even though he could drink/breathe/cough, it just wouldn’t come out. i gave him double points though, because he opted to jam a pencil down there to move it on its way and ‘accidental self traecheotomy (SP???) w. a pencil chasing a cucumber slice’ is just as stupid as ‘death by Subway cucumber’….super glad you missed your vein…obviously…

  5. Okay – this made my whole day. Not the part about you dying via cardboard – but the whole, hilarious story.

    You are good.
    Guerrilla Mom recently posted..Sick Child = No Writing.My Profile

  6. Death by Guard Goat.


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