Dying Cool with Scuba and Murder Frogs

If you're like me and you want to die cool then scuba diving is a little embarrassing. It's just so obvious that you are trying to stay alive. Instead of striding naked into the ocean like a competent person trying to get dead, you're strapping on 50 pounds of life support equipment.

You are obviously not ready to face the abyss.

I want to die cool by getting eaten by a shark so I can be an instant legend and get my own documentary. But I'll never get eaten by a shark, I'm not lucky so I never even get to see a shark.

Poison Shells?

I could pick up one of those shells that shoots poison and then my family could pretend that it was an accident. They already know I'm stupid.

Not that I've ever seen a poison shell that kills you. Again, I am not lucky. Turns out dying stupid is harder than it looks. Pretty unfair considering how many stupid people are out there thriving, just ruining lives and elections every day.

The Murder Frog

I could have died stupid in Costa Rica. I spent a month chasing these cute red frogs and taking close up photos of them and basically trying to snuggle them. Only to learn on the last day "oops, that's deadly."

They were poison dart frogs.

If you touch the dart frog your heart will stop in literally moments. So I could have been dead in the jungle surrounded by a chorus of tiny murder frogs. No one would even suspect them because they're so small.

The Costa Ricans are totally casual about not telling you the frog is poison. Maybe they just assume I wasn't stupid, but that's a pretty rude assumption. How would I know not to fuck with the local death frog? They literally do not exist outside the country.

I've seen all the animal attack shows where people survive bear attacks and even a dude who almost died from a tiny jellyfish, but I've never seen an episode about someone licking a dart frog to death in Costa Rica.

Practicing Death

Anyway, I'd argue that I never feel more alive than when I scuba, but that is only because I'm not at work. Anything not work related feels like living. But scuba is basically just practicing for death.

Technically, I am floating effortlessly in the ocean. No one can talk to me or ask me to send an email. It's the farthest away from life I can be.

So when you scuba it's like not being alive for 60 minutes unless you breathe too much air like a person who's trying to live. That's not me, I can manage air really well because I don't want to breath at all. It's fucking involuntary, so I do it as little as possible. I'm leading a life of minimum effort here.

Scuba is so fun that I'm probably moving to Florida to pursue it. That's pretty serious because Florida is objectively the worst place. They do have hurricanes and dying by hurricane sounds badass in theory.

Dying The Dream

You'd want to make sure that it was a good celebrity hurricane, like Katrina. Something you can really name drop in the obituary. Otherwise, you'd just be drowning like a child in a backyard swimming pool. Fucking embarrassing.

In Florida there would be a possibility that you'd die by water moccasin or alligator during the hurricane... so your family could comfort themselves with that knowledge. You could have died awesome! There's no way to know.

Water moccasins are exclusively in the American south. Don't google that because it's probably not true, but I've never heard of them anywhere else.

The locals won't warn you about water moccasins because you should know not to fuck with a water snake. Much like the Costa Ricans assume I won't fuck with a red murder frog. WRONG. I'll fuck with anything, I'm dumb as hell.

Imagine dying in a super cool way like by getting bit by a water moccasin during a hurricane. Then the whole time you are looting a hospital for anti-venom, you'd know that your stupid family will never tell this story correctly.

DEVASTATING.

You are about to die wrestling a water moccasin in a hurricane like a total badass and your stupid family is just going to say you drown and forget the name of the tropical storm.

Then your scuba friends will be like

"How did she drown, she was an experienced scuba diver?"

You hope they would say that, instead of not being surprised at all,

"That tracks, she was bad at diving. I don't even need further details, her trim was garbage."

You go down in history dying like a complete loser and someday generations from now some great grand cousin will look up your obituary and be disappointed that everyone in the family was painfully ordinary.

That will be the last reference to you. No one will ever think about you ever again and your badass story is lost to time. May as well lick the frog.