Even if we didn’t know Chris Connor, Caitlin Connor’s obituary for him paints a picture of a pretty interesting guy, even if we didn’t know him personally.

Chris died recently of pancreatic cancer and Motor Neurone Disease. He and his wife Emily lived in York, Maine. His final hope? He didn’t want a “run-of-the-mill obituary.”

So, Chris’s family reportedly got together with some champagne and wrote his obituary at a party. The funny and heartwarming results are as follows:

Chris Connors died at age 67, just a few minutes after he tried to punch his bikini-clad hospice nurse.

Connors, who was a ladies man, a game killer, and an outlaw, told his last bad joke on Friday, December 9, 2016, which we can’t print here.

Anyone else with ALS and stage 4 pancreatic cancer would have died quietly, but Connors was drinking Veuve while Al Green played on the speakers in a house full of friends and family.

He died the same way he lived: by making his own rules, fighting against authority, and making his own way.

And if you told him he couldn’t do it, he would find a way to do it.

He lived 1,000 years in the 67 calendar years we knew him because he attacked life. He grabbed it by the lapels, kissed it, and swung it back onto the dance floor.

He wanted to sail around the world when he was 26. Instead, he spent 40 hours on a life raft off the coast of Panama.

He set up the Quincy Rugby Club in 1974. In New York City, when he was in his 30s, he saved a woman from being robbed and was cut by a knife.

He didn’t slow down. When he was 64, he climbed to the base camp of Mount Everest.

He was a good hunter and tested birth control devices for most of his life (with some failures, notably Caitlin Connors, 33; Chris Connors, 11; and Liam Connors, 8).

Out of all the people he touched, both willingly and unwillingly, marrying his wife Emily Ayer Connors was the thing he was most proud of.

She was there for him when he was at the top of his game and cared for him when he was sick and dying.