One lazy Sunday morning Jo-Rene and I were quiet and thoughtful, sitting around the breakfast table when I said to her unexpectedly, "When I die, I want you to sell all my stuff, immediately." "Now why would you want me to do something like that John?" she asked. "I figure a woman as fine as yourself would eventually remarry and I don't want some other asshole using my stuff." She looked at me intently and said: "What makes you think I'd marry another asshole?"