TOP FIVE WAYS I DON’T WANT TO DIE:
1. Getting stoned to death in Iraq, or anywhere, actually.
2. Falling into a Kolkata manhole hidden by floods and no one even nearby to mistake me for a municipal worker.
3. Pining away to death for someone worthless, and not having the brains to realise it.
4. Shot to death fighting with another passenger for the toilet in a hijacked airplane on the fifth day of negotiations, just before the dumbass negotiators realise that there is a Minister’s daughter in the plane and that the hijackers have run out of bullets now.
5. Death By Surgeon: Hooked on to a ventilator with my confused body fluids getting hopelessly mixed up, like the surgeon who operated me and helped me reach the ICU in the present state.
TOP FIVE WAYS I WANT TO DIE:
1. Rope snapping while bungee jumping from the Petronas’ towers (or similar) in search of the window of the Bank I need to break into, wherein lies a few billion dollars loose change, a la ‘Entrapment’, starring Catherine Zeta Jones and Sean Connery.
2. Unstable pelvic fracture sustained during sex, preferably as a contagious disease.
3. Sucked into a twister and being throttled to death by a desperate Julia Roberts (trying to escape getting her sweet ass chewed by a hungry and disoriented Jersey cow) clinging fatally on to my trachea.
4. Firing squad for politically incorrect and hyper-adult blogging.
5. Tasting French blue cheese and choking to death, failing to revive in spite of copious amounts of elixir (a.k.a. Beaujolais nouveau).