You've Got To Read The Fine Print

The autopsy that was supposed to answer all the questions surrounding the death of Anna Nicole Smith was released yesterday. The main finding was that Anna died of an "accidental drug overdose". The one question it didn't answer was, "didn't anyone she knew know how to read?

The coroner found nine different prescription drugs in her system including some kind of crazy, old school sleeping syrup that she supposedly was swigging right out of the bottle. If anyone had bothered to check, they would have seen that many of these drugs didn't go together very well. You'd think that just from watching TV, someone would have been a little worried about side effects, since you can't enjoy a fun filled episode of "24" with out hearing how the latest pill to combat cholesterol will give you loose stool and a third eye. The medical examiner, Dr. Perper, (which sounds strangely similar to a refreshing beverage) reported that ANS was weakened from a bout with stomach flu and an infected area on her ass that was the result of repeated injections. What was going on in that suite at the Hard Rock? Couldn't someone have taken a look at the bottles and maybe cut back a little?

I hope I never have to undergo an autopsy. Every tiny detail of your body and your innards is in the report, and if you're famous, that report is released to a very nosey public. From the report we learned all about ANS' tattoos, real hair color, that she had the "genitals of a fully formed adult woman" and best of all, that her anus was "unremarkable". What possible reason could there be for us to know that? Who here would consider their anus anything but unremarkable? I just assume mine is and go about my day. Forget about wearing clean underwear like your mom used to tell you. Now you need to worry that your "leather Cheerio" is spruced up for possible examination. What a way to be remembered. I guess it's better than hearing that your anus is sub par, but not as good as hearing that it's fabulous.

Promise me something. When I die, think not of my ass. If you must, say I was an ass but remember me for something else. By the way, my big toe is spectacular. Later...Brian