Megan Vaughan is preparing to die.
Vadadoriya, Batukbhai (1990-08-14)
Vag, Yaron (1979-04-20)
Vaid, Kant (1975-11-12)
VAJPAYEE, ABEER (1983-12-26)
Valentine, Nigel (1971-03-23)
Valo, Clare (1990-01-20)
Van Der Hoosen, Ruddiger (1976-12-07)
Van Der Put, Cees (1977-09-30)
Vardanian, Gor (1978-02-27)
Vasquez, Michael (1993-08-28)
Vaughan, Megan (1984-02-01)
Veil, Calpurnie Moreen Proodence (1988-04-18)
Velasco, Elizabeth (1990-02-01)
Verkade, Alex (1976-09-30)
Vicious, Shelest (0000-00-00)
Vincent, Jade (1990-06-29)
Vincent, Rob (1977-11-12)
Voigt, Valerie (1953-10-10)
Von Sexmachine, Billiam (1988-01-07)
Voskoboinikov, Michelle (0000-00-00)
Cremation. Ashes to be scattered in Garvan Glen by the rope bridge thing.
Something art nouveau and artisan. Find me a William Morris-alike.
There needs to be some kind of live art intervention in there somewhere. I'll work on a few more ideas for this bit.
Everyone off Twitter. Hopefully some people from The Archers. My Mum and Dad and auntie Ellan if they're not already dead. Friends from my Macclesfield, Manchester and Leicester periods.
I want a New Orleans marching band to lead a walking procession to my funeral. (My coffin will be pulled by horses.)
Come On Up To The House by Tom Waits should play as I'm sent through the curtains, but it should be acknowledged in the order of service that I totally nicked this idea from James Lamond.
We'll Go No More A-Roving by Lord Byron, to be read by whoever my one true love turns out to be.
Don't really mind as long as it's all caps.
Face carved into a cliff like an American president.
I want to be cremated in my orange playsuit.