Nine hours of rehearsal!

I'm dead. Seriously, after that nine hour rehearsal, I lay down, died, and now my noncorporial spirit is getting my final affairs in order, which is to say, writing this post. Thus, my last will and testament. I, Ed, having been of sound mind and body until I , you know, died, hereby suggest that all my stuff be put into a big pile so that my friends, loved ones, and vagrants can pick out the good stuff. Anything left after a few hours should be thrown out, or donated to one of the more disreputable charities you see on the news during sweeps. My body is to be stuffed, mounted, and shipped back to Nicole, in the hopes that her ceaseless sorrow will be partially consoled by a life-sized, Ed-shaped pillow. Finally, I request that my estate go to CVS and pick up a sympathy card, a nice one, and send it to my mother. Thank you all, it's been a good life. My only regret was that, perhaps, I did too much good for the world. Oh, well. I'm gonna go haunt people now. Bye-ee!