An old acquaintance died the other day. His obituary was in today's newspaper, which I quit subscribing to several years ago because it was just too stupid to deal with. According to this obituary, this fellow did not die.And not to seem like he was throwing stones, he created one for himself:
"The Soul of Leonard left its earthly runway." It also said he left behind "fantastic" and "great" offspring and grand-offspring. I'm glad he got laid once in a while.
Unless the names of these individuals are Mozart or Shakespeare, I doubt that any of them are "great" or "fantastic."
"Usually not overbearingly obnoxious" might be more accurate. Or "usually tolerable unless he was eating ribs." Something like that.
Spectacular acts of self-aggrandizement piss me off more than they should.
Earthly runway? How about, "backed out of its earthly driveway"?
The Earthly Soul of Brit Garrison was told that it was Closing Time on Friday night. It was last seen floating down Urbandale Avenue with a copy of The Wings of the Dove in one hand and a handful of New Yorker rejection slips in the other.Or:
Thank God, he had no offspring, since he couldn't get laid in a whorehouse. He was a nice guy, except when the bartender cut him off and he began frantically banging his glass on the bar and shouting "More suds! More suds!"
The library card of Brit Garrison was Eternally Punched last night at A.K. O'Connor's Bar and Grill, following a lively debate regarding the sexual orientation of the Boston Red Sox outfield.Or:
"He hardly ever threw up in public."