How should I be buried?

Is it me, or does there seem to be a growing trend in popular culture of competing to see who can create the biggest and best spectacle to celebrate major lifetime milestones? MTV chronicles bratty teenagers in their quest to have the Superest Sweet 16 party, because cupcakes and Spin the Bottle aren't good enough anymore. The first question posed to the recently engaged (after asking to see the ring) is "How did he propose?" because simply asking "Will you marry me?" is now seen as laziness on the guy's behalf. Weddings, too, are becoming more expensive and more elaborate as we try to keep up with the glitz and glamour of Hollywood nuptials.

One trend, however, that I'm totally on board with is coming up with creative ways to preserve one's remains. Of course, bragging rights are a little limited, since you're dead and all, but you leave your descendents with a really cool story to tell. For example, although my grandfather's passing a few weeks ago was quite sad, I do delight in telling people that my grandmother is currently storing his ashes in one of his beer steins. Although this wasn't so much his specified wishes as a half-joking suggestion of my mother's, I know he's thrilled to be preserved in a way that reflects his pride of his German heritage.

And then yesterday I read an article on CNN.com about something that happened in Cincinnati that didn't involve one of the Bengals getting arrested. Fredric J. Baur passed away on May 4 at the age of 89. Mr. Baur, the designer of the famous "once you pop, you can't stop" Pringles can, requested that a portion of his cremated remains be buried in a Pringles can. And so, in a cemetery somewhere in suburban Springfield Township, Ohio, Fredric J. Baur is proudly buried inside his legendary invention.

This is one of the most awesome things I have heard in awhile, so I am officially opening up the floor for suggestions on a great way I can be buried. I mean, I'm hoping I won't have to use any of these ideas for a long time, but I like being prepared. I was a Girl Scout, after all. (But I hated it about 98% of the time, so don't start suggesting that I be buried inside a sit-a-can or a mess kit.)