One lazy Sunday my wife and I were sitting quietly and thoughtfully around the breakfast table when I said to her “When I die, I want you to sell all my stuff immediately.”
“Now why would you want me to do something like that?” she asked.
“I figure a woman as fine as yourself would eventually remarry and I don’t want some other asshole using all my stuff” I replied.
“So what makes you think,” she said, looking at me intently, “that I’d marry another asshole?”