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Why not find out when his birthday is, call the newspapers, and go dance on his grave?
--
On Colonel Sanders

 

Ingrid Newkirk

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I celebrated my 21st birthday here, and that was the last time I drank in El Paso. [Audience cheers] You folks don't mess around, you know? Everyone was going, "It's your birthday," I was like, "It's my birthday!" "Do you want a drink?" "SUUURRREE!" And I kept drinking and drinking and drinking, and then the staff asked me, "Do you want to party?" I was like, [Slurring]"I want to party." "Do you want to dance?" [Slurring] "I wanna dance!" I passed out, you guys, and woke up at a place called the O.P. [Audience laughs and cheers] Yeah, the reason you people in El Paso are laughing is because you KNOW! I had no idea it was an "Alternative" night club. I'm in El Paso, I thought O.P. stood for: Orale prese! That is a bad way to sober up, you guys. I'm just dancing, you know [Imitates beat-box music] Boom, boom, boom, hey! Boom, boom, boom, hey! Boom, boom, boom- [Jumps like something's behind him] HEY! [Audience laughs] And behind me was this little guy going, [Little effeminate voice] "Pikachu!"

 

Gabriel Iglesias

 

You know it doesn't make much sense,
There ought to be a law against
Anyone who takes offence
At a day in your celebration,
'Cause we all know in our minds
That there ought to be a time
That we can set aside
To show just how much we love you,
And I'm sure you would agree,
What could fit more perfectly
Than to have a world party
On the day you came to be?
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday.

 

Stevie Wonder

 

Frankly, despite my distaste of the press, I'd love to rise from the grave every ten years or so and go buy a few newspapers.

 

Luis Bunuel

 

Dance on, dance on, we see, we see
Youth goes, alack, and with it glee,
A boy the old man ne’er can be;
Maternal thirty scarce can find
The sweet sixteen long left behind.

 

Arthur Hugh Clough

 

Peace is in the grave.
The grave hides all things beautiful and good.
I am a God and cannot find it there,
Nor would I seek it; for, though dread revenge,
This is defeat, fierce king, not victory.

 

Percy Bysshe Shelley