I know I’ve gotta go someday, but please, God, not this way:

P.J. O’Rourke:

I have, of all the inglorious things, a malignant hemorrhoid. What color bracelet does one wear for that? And where does one wear it? And what slogan is apropos? Perhaps that slogan can be sewn in needlepoint around the ruffle on a cover for my embarrassing little doughnut buttocks pillow.

A malignant hemorrhoid. It’s like colon cancer, but lower.

Please, Lord, I know I’m going to die someday. I’m okay with that, really. But: not like that. Some other way. I beg.

Fortunately, O’Rourke’s outlook isn't grim.

I'm told I have a 95% chance of survival. Come to think of it -- as a drinking, smoking, saturated-fat hound -- my chance of survival has been improved by cancer.

Read the whole thing. I may have to start a “top ten columns of the year” post, just so I can include this.