For your viewing enjoyment, I give you Liam's will. Well, it's not really his will, you know, I made it up, but it shouldn't be too far off from this. So if you're ready, it's time to witness the reading of...


Liam Gallagher's Last Will and Testament

I, Liam Gallagher, being of chemically distorted mind and astounding, phenomenal, unparalleled body, do hereby leave my stuff to the following people. To Noel, my arse-hole of a brother, I leave my socks. Hahaha! There are, Noel! My socks! How's that? Shouldn't have told me my songs were shite, should you have?? A-hem. To my "girlfriend" Patsy, I leave my house. You totally messed it up anyway, with all your girly actress stuff, so it's yours now. By the way, my insurance and house payments just went up. Oh yeah, sorry I never got around to marrying you. I'm sure you'll find some other gullible young lead singer who'll let you brainwash them. In the meantime, go bother Noel for a change. I also left you some money, which I just know you'll go spend on some friggin' shoes or something, but I felt it was my civic duty. And it'll also shut you up, because I only want people saying nice things about me in my obits. To my rhythm guitarist, Bonehead, I leave my Rogaine prescriptions. I know, I know, I was holding out on you all those years, because you were the one who really needed the hair, but I wanted mine longer. You understand. You can also have my collection of broken televisions that the managers of countless hotels made me pay for and take with me after I threw them out of countless hotel windows. May they take up as much space in your house as they did in mine. To my bass guitarist, Guigsy, I leave my drugs. Now don't get excited, because I'll probably down 99% of them about ten minutes before I die (I'd like to go out with a bang), but in the top right-hand drawer of the cabinet in the third spare room on the left as you enter the front door from the side, way at the back in the secret compartment that's built into the drawer, you'll find three joints. They've been there since I was 12, but maybe they're still good. And I know you're not picky, anyway. To my drummer, Alan, I leave my star-shaped tamborine. May you get as much enjoyment out of bashing Noel with it as I did. Remember, always use one of the pointy edges when you're bashing him with it. And don't sister-in-law him, let him have it! I would want it that way. I also leave you the fantastic drum solos that Noel wrote over the years and gave to me to give to you, and then I hid them in a drawer at my house, so you always made up your own drum parts for the songs. These would have made you terribly rich and famous! Pretty good joke, eh? I thought so. To my mum, I leave my other house. Don't go blabbing about this too much, because it's the one I never showed to Patsy. I also leave you the rest of my money. Don't give any to Noel. He needs another Rolls Royce like he needs a hole in the head. To my other brother Darryl....I mean Paul, I leave another lifetime supply of Slim-Fast. Remember what the doctor said last time, though. Drinking them all at once sort of defeats the purpose. I also leave those books you wrote that I never read. They're in the drawer with Guigsy's joints. Anything of mine that's worth any value whatsoever (awards, gold records, platinum records, a G&T, etc.) I will have buried with me. So that I can show them to John Lennon in the afterlife. I would like to be buried in my pants that are too baggy at the ankles, one of my longest shirts (left untucked), my lovely leather jacket with the fake wool collar, and a pair of old-school trainers. That shouldn't be a difficult request to carry out, because I've been wearing exactly that for the past six months anyway, and I don't plan on changing any time soon. I want to be modestly remembered as a person who dedicated his life to music and making others happy. In order to do that, I would like a twenty foot shrine of me built right smack dab in the middle of downtown Manchester, bearing the inscription, "Liam Gallagher: The Greatest Singer in the History of Rock 'n' Roll." Keep in mind that I only want this statue to be twenty feet high. I don't want to come off as an ego-maniac, like Michael Jackson. His was thirty feet. That man is just so full of himself. Well, that's about it. When you people are reading this, it will mean that I am dead. Wow! Cool! Hey, I'm dead! I AM SPEAKING TO YOU FROM BEYOOOOND THE GRAAAAVE! AHAHAH! Anyway, I hope that you all can somehow find the strength and courage to continue living life without me.

"Live Forever", (so that I don't have to put up with any of you in the after life)

Liam

And now, for those of you who'd like to see the last effects of Noel Gallagher, witness the reading of...


Noel Gallagher's Last Will and Testament

I, Noel Gallagher, being of superior mind and the body everybody really wants (and just won't say so), do hereby bequeath my belongings to the following people. To my brother, Liam Gallagher, I leave my entire estate. NOT! I'll bet you're not leaving me anything in your will, you little creep, so all you get is 50 cents. Go buy yourself a stick of gum. May you concentrate on chewing it and keep your mouth shut for a change. To my wife, Meg, I leave my house and all of my money. I really didn't want to, but it was in that contract you made me sign that night I was drunk. You remember that one? The one that said first I had to marry you and then I had to leave you my house and all my money when I died. Bummer. Please don't take Liam's 50 cents away. And please don't go blow it all in one day, like you tried to when we got married in Vegas. To my best mate, Bonehead Arthurs, I leave my Rolls Royce. I just have one request - that you never drive it. I also leave a key that goes to my safe-deposit box and the rights to my Swiss bank account. You'd better get to it before Meg does. In the safe-deposit box, you'll find well over 5 million pounds and also a gun. That's just in case Meg gets there at the same time as you and you have to defend yourself. To my bass guitarist, Guigsy....what was your last name?....oh well. To Guigsy, I leave the complete "Hooked on Phonics" boxed set. If you practice every day, I'm sure you'll be talking by the time you're....50. I also leave you this shock-therapy machine my therapist gave me once. Just attach it to your forehead, and I swear it'll wake you up. With a pulse and everything. To my drummer, Alan White, I leave....well, I was going to leave you all the rest of the hit songs I've written and haven't released, but you really offended me by not using all those great drum parts that I wrote for you over the years. I've always wondered why you didn't use those. They were great. So instead, I'll just leave you all of my John Lennon and Elvis Presley memorabilia. That includes my Elvis phone with the little Elvis on top that dances whenever the phone rings. That's gotta be worth millions. To my brother, Paul Gallagher, I leave a lifetime membership to Jenny Craig. I've also made it very legally binding, so you're basically required by law to go. To my mum, Peggy Gallagher....oh man, I've run out of stuff. Umm...I leave you the memory of your greatest, most talented son. Oh! And there's even a poster of me in my bedroom that you can have. I would like to be buried in my official replica Sgt. Pepper's uniform, with all my guitars. I know I have a lot of guitars, so I've arranged it so you can buy a second coffin to put them in, and bury them right next to me. I've even made them a little headstone: "These guitars were once touched by the magical fingers of the great Noel Gallagher."

Yours greatest,

Noel Gallagher

And now, for Guigsy. Yes, Guigsy was able to talk long enough to make out a will, and here it is:

Guigsy McGuigan's Last Will and Testament

I, Paul "Guigsy" McGuigan, being of wandering mind and scrawny body, do hereby....what's this about again? Oh. Do hereby bequeath my junketh to the following persons. To me wife, Ruth, I leave.....guys, I don't have anything. Oh, I should leave ANYTHING I have? Alright. To me wife, Ruth, I leave my collection of footballs and videos of football and football photos and football scarves. And football kits, too. I know you hate football, but....you don't do dope, so I can't very well leave you that, can I? To me mate Liam, I leave the dope. There's a lot of it, share with Noel. Wait, what am I saying. Okay, go ahead and have it all, God knows you need it. Noel, I leave you....my mirror, razorblade and matches. That way Liam'll HAVE to come to you if he wants to use the dope, and then you can swipe some from 'im. There's logic. To Bonehead, I leave my bar in Iceland. No joke, I've got a bar, and if you know what's good for you, you won't tell Liam and Noel about it. Oh blast, this will is gonna be read in front of everybody, innit? Okay, Bonehead, I leave you....an old, deserted building in Iceland. *wink* Go, have fun. To Alan, I leave my 2000 page memoirs. Yes, 2000 pages. I haven't talked for 40 years, I had to say everything somewhere, right? Is that everybody? Alright. To the band, I leave the phone number of that guy who replaced me before - yeah, Noel, I stole it from your Rolodex, I didn't want to take any chances. I wanna be buried completely nude. Just kidding. You can put a Speedo on me, if you like. No, strike that, if you're gonna put a Speedo on me, you might as well bury me at sea. That'd be fun. Well, I suppose that's all. I wish I had some intelligent last words. Like, live life to the fullest, because every day is precious and the joy that is living is just as easily taken as it is given. Nah, that's cheesy. Nevermind.

Cheers,

Guigsy

Bonehead figured, since he's married with children and all, that it would be in his best interest to make out a will, too:

Bonehead Arthurs' Last Will And Testament

I, Paul "Bonehead" Arthurs, being of bald head over-the-hill body, do hereby bequeath my worldly posessions to the following people. To my wife, Kate, and my children, Lucy and Jude, I leave all my money, the house, the cars, the usual stuff you're supposed to leave to your family. If I happen to have any grandchildren by the time I die (which I'd better not), split it with 'em. To Liam Gallagher, I leave my collection of 64 designer liquor cabinets. And they're all fully stocked!! Oh wait, no they're not - Mick and Keith came for a visit last week and knocked off about....58 of 'em...six of them are fully stocked!! No, I was thirsty yesterday...two of them are fully stocked!! Enjoy yourself. To Noel Gallagher, I leave all of my rhythm guitars - I'm absolutely certain you'll clear a special wall in Supernova Heights for them and construct a modest but fitting shrine to me - right? To Guigsy McGuigan, I leave my wardrobe. Man, every time I see you it looks like you're wearing the same thing, so please, take my polo shirts and khaki slacks and be a little daring. To Alan White, I leave some more awesome drum solos that Noel wrote for you over the years. Liam and I had a pretty good practical joke going there, eh? Heh heh. To the entire band, I leave my collection of toupees. I know what you're thinking, "Bonehead, you're bald, you never wore a toupee." Well, guys.....I've been hiding something from you. See, ever since the band formed, I've been leading a double life - rock star by night, special agent for Her Majesty's Secret Service by day. Agent 911. With my expensive toupees, I was a suave, debonaire, dashing secret agent. Okay, maybe not, but I liked to wear them every once in a while at home, y'know. Last but not least, to Tony McCarroll, I leave a plague of locusts.

Peace Out,

Bonehead

"Liam Gallagher's Last Will and Testament," "Noel Gallagher's Last Will And Testament," "Guigsy McGuigan's Last Will and Testament,"and "Bonehead Arthurs' Last Will and Testament" written exclusively by whatsthestory & morningglory, BBH Editors. ©1997, 1998.

TaKe It HoMe



....and I leave my collection of homepages to GeoCities.