Hopefully no one at the funeral asked Pam how she got her nickname.
Have you spent your life dating boring girls with boring names like Sarah, Millicent, and (yawn) Jen? Then your obituary is going to be a big snore, and it totally won't end up being reposted on sites like this one (which may be a plus?).
You need to start living life the way William Freddie McCullough did. McCullough, of Bloomingdale, GA, died last Wednesday, leaving behind a long list of colorful women who found him as attractive as "a shoe sale at Macy's." We make a point of reading every obituary in every paper in the contiguous United States (a hobby) and McCullough might the most entertaining dead man of the last 300,000 or so. Some highlights include:
"Freddie loved deep fried Southern food smothered in Cane Syrup, fishing at Santee Cooper Lake, Little Debbie Cakes, Two and a Half Men, beautiful women, Reeses Cups and Jim Beam. Not necessarily in that order. He hated vegetables and hypocrites. Not necessarily in that order."
"He got married when he was 18, but it didn't last. Freddie was no quitter, however, so he gave it a shot two more times."
"Freddie was killed when he rushed into a burning orphanage to save a group of adorable children. Or maybe not."
If the orphans aren't real, does that mean Big Tittie Wanda is a fiction too? Only Freddie knows the truth, and he's in heaven now, saddling the female angels with indelicate nicknames. Take it easy, Freddie.