The New Yorker paid beautiful tribute to the late great Joan Rivers with a superlative Friday cartoon reflected the comedienne’s wonderfully acerbic wit. While Joan’s unexpected death dealt a significant blow around the world, there is a bit of comfort to be found in the what she wrote about her own inevitable death in her 2013 book I Hate Everyone, Starting With Me.
“When I die (and yes, Melissa, that day will come; and yes, Melissa, everything’s in your name) I want my funeral to be a huge show biz affair with lights, cameras, action …“I want Craft services. I want paparazzi. I want publicists making a scene! I want it to be Hollywood all the way. I don’t want some rabbi rambling on; I want Meryl Streep crying, in five different accents. I don’t want a eulogy; I want Bobby Vinton to pick up my head and sing “Mr. Lonely.” I want to look gorgeous, better dead than I do alive. I want to be buried in a Valentino gown and I want Harry Winston to make me a toe tag. And I want a wind machine so that even in the casket my hair is blowing like Beyonce’s.”
