life and death – Page 7

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watch Watcher (56/365)

Lee watched the Businessman trapped somewhere between being Entranced and Horrified. The Businessman’s Eyes started to Bulge out of His Head as His face became Flushed, and He began to sweat Profusely frantically wiping His Forehead every 3 seconds. Lee couldn’t help but to compare what He was seeing to Witnessing a 12 Foot Giant Choking the shit out of Someone with all its Might. Lee was rendered useless by Indecision almost instinctively nudged Dizzy’s Knee with His 40 oz to get His Attention.

Dizzy lazily turned to look at Lee to find Lee staring at Him Wide Eyed like had just seen Hitler fucking an Electric Eel or some Crazy Shit like that. Lee motioned with His eyes in the Direction of the Businessman, and Dizzy having a Phd in Street Smarts from The FUCK YOU University of Life picked up on the question instantly. He took a second before casting a sly glance in the Direction of where the Businessman before quickly turning back to face Lee.

“What? What the fuck has You so Shook for fucks sake I know the Bus is a Bitch, but You’re being a fucking Drama Queen about it aren’t You,” said Dizzy with thorough Lack of Interest or Enthusiasm., “Just spit it Out what is Going On with You already.”

“I just saw the craziest most fucked up thing I think I have ever seen.” replied Lee still in a minor state of Shock and Awe.

“So what was it I’m not fucking Sherlock Holmes here so You’re going to have to Spell it Out for Me.” said Dizzy in the Tone of a Parent who is growing frustrated with a Child who can’t seem to Communicate properly what was going on.

“The fucking Businessman over there that motherfucker just Shot Up something in a Syringe directly into His fucking Neck, and Now He looks like His Head is Literally going to fucking Explode like the Guy in the Movie Scanners,”Lee explained while getting Himself even more worked up, “Seriously who does shit like That and in Public none the less?!”

“He’s Tweeting Hard as Fuck,” Dizzy Answered, “He’s a fucking whacked Out on Crystal Meth. My Guess is since He was Cooking up the Shot secretly without looking He probably just put to Much in by Accident, and Now He’s becoming well aware of His Mistake.”

“So what the fuck do You do in this situation I mean do We Alert the Bus Driver or Call the Cops?” Lee asked as His Mind Became to Race a Mile a Minute.

“NEVER CALL THE COPS EVER,” Dizzy Yelled Loud enough for the Entire Bus to Hear, “And what the fuck do You think the Bus Driver is going to do with this Information? I’ll tell You She will pull the fucking Bus over, call 911, and The Police with Show up with the fucking Medics. The Best thing to do is fucking Ignore it because it’s simply NOT YOUR PROBLEM!”

“Jesus thats fucking Brutal,” Lee said in utter disbelief, “The fucking Guy very well may Die right where He’s sitting on this crappy Bus. What a shitty way to go I mean imagine the obituary So and So Overdosed and Died on the Number something Bus today.”

“Fuck that Guy We don’t know Him, and We sure as Hell had Nothing to do with Him injecting Drugs into His Neck,” replied Dizzy Dryly, “If He dies He Dies.”

It was then that Lee noticed a Trashily Dress Woman with far too much make up on who had been sitting in the front of the Bus get up out of Her seat, walk over to the Businessman and handed Him a Bottle of Water. The Businessman snatched the Bottle of Water from The Trashy Woman’s Hands and downed it in One massive prolonged Sip. The Bottle drained and Empty He promptly handed it back to the Trashy Woman who then tossed it nonchalantly on the Floor without a care in the World.

“Look, Look right fucking there,” Lee blurted Out emphatically, “That Woman a fucking Stranger just helped out the Tweeked Out Businessman. See at least someone fucking Cares about Their fellow Man.”

“Don’t be Fooled that had nothing to do with a Helping Hand I assure you of That,” responded Dizzy condescendingly, “It wasn’t personal it was all business Brother All fucking Business.”

“What fucking Business the Free Bottled Water Business seriously what the fuck,” said Lee growing rather exasperated with Dizzy’s carefree attitude, “I think You’re the fucking One being Dramatic.”

“Bullshit It was Business and You want to Know How I know this its because SHE isn’t a good samaritan She’s a Bus Bunny.” responded Dizzy with an Air of Arrogance.

“Bus Bunny what the fuck is that exactly because it sounds like You mad it Up to be Honest,” said Lee confusedly, “Now its Your fucking turn to tell Me what the fuck is going on Exactly.”

“She’s a Bus Bunny. You know How there Hookers that tool the Truck Stops called Lot Lizards Right,” explained Dizzy confidently, “Well this is the equivalent of a Lot Lizard but Bus Bunny’s a Hookers who ride the Buses all damn Day it’s called Dicks for Dollars.”

“I find that extremely fucking hard to believe, But I have No definitive Proof that You bullshitting Me,” replied Lee sounding Defeated, “Stranger things have happen I suppose.”

“You Don’t need to take My word for it,” snapped Dizzy defensively, “Just keep You eye on Those Two and watch what Happens.”

Stay Tuned for the Next Extroverted Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (57/365) Coming Soon!

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Another Good Man Is Dead

It’s a Truly Sad Day here at FYB as I found out Earlier Today that My Oldest and Dearest Friends Mike BlueJetSki Dies to Soon Last Night of Congestive Heart Failure. Ever Since I found Out the World Seems to Be Somewhat Off as if Reality has Suddenly gone Askew. Another Fallen Friend to Bid Farewell to Another Death, Another Celebration of Deceased’s Life, Another Grave Needs Filling.

I’m not what You would call a Sentimental sort of Person so This is Far, Far, Far from any Biographical Memoire, but Alas I still have Shit to Say. I met Mike when I switched Schools right Before 9th Grade. It’s needless to say High School fucking Sucks, and Teenagers are Assholes so being an Interloper in a Group of fellow Students who have been fucking Classmates since fucking Elementary School. Mike was the First Person to approach Me and extend His Hand in Friendship.

Mike was an extremely Talented Self Taught Guitarist who I had the distinct Pleasure of Playing with in Several High School Bands with such as Burnt Toast, The Severed Heads, Rules of a Riot, The Satanic MC Collective, Shit Out of Luck, Far From Sober, and most Notably Stank Breath. Mike and I were part of the Motley Crew of Heavy Metal Loving, Pot Smoking, Underage Drinking Head Banger Slackers who’s only real accomplishment was Not Dropping Out or Flunking out of High School. For some in Our Circle of Friends that was a Tall Order I assure You.

Mike was also an Amazing Mechanic who was Born with a Natural Talent for Working with His Hands. I stopped by Mike’s Grandmothers House where Mike was Helping Her Clean Out Her Cluttered Attic. While Rummaging Through the Contents of the Attic Mike had come across His Grandfather’s Korean War Rifle. Now Mike had Obviously never seen a Korean War Rifle since He was Born After the Korean War Itself. It took Mike Meer Minutes to Completely Disassemble the Rifle, Clean it, and Reassemble it Flawlessly in Perfect Working Order .

During Our Junior Year of High School Mike’s Mother Started Dating since Sad to Say Mike’s Father had Died at an Early Age as Well of Heart Related Issues (The Kicker was He was on Medication that would have kept Him alive Accept for a Short Period He couldn’t Afford it and Paying the Bills. Talk about putting Family First and True Sacrifice.) a few Years before I met Him. Mike’s Mom was a Unconventional Character who was Honestly Quite Lonely and wanted Someone, Anyone really to Live out the Rest of Her Days With. After a long line of fucking Loser’s She impulsively Married a Southern Religious Fanatic and Old School Racist Asshole Don without Ever meeting Him in Person Prior to the Wedding (this was Pre Internet so They had to write actual Letters and Use Landlines to Communicate.)

Mike’s Mom suddenly announced one Day soon after Marrying Don the Dick to Dothan Alabama of all fucking Shitholes because thats were Don and His Family Lived, and They (Mike and His Siblings) had just under 2 weeks to get Their Shit Together before the Actual Moving Day. Again back in those Days there Weren’t wasn’t the Internet or Social Media or Skype so as I said communication could be Slow and for that matter inconsistent. The Only other Option outside of Snail Mail was Land Lines that Charged a small fucking fortune for Long Distance Calls. Being Teenagers Niether Mike nor I had any Money or source of Income so I could Move with Mike, and Mike couldn’t Move Back.

I did manage to Sell Enough Pot to Visit Mike During Spring Break to Don’s Dismay in Fact Don Claimed that if I came to Visit I’d “Bring the Devil to Alabama.” which being a Heavy Metal Fan and Teenager I thought was pretty fucking bad ass. In the End Mike’s Mom Divorced Don who became Mentally Unstable increasingly more and more as Time Passed. One Day Mike found Don sitting in the Kitchen with a Loaded Shotgun ranting about Murdering Mike. Mike tackled Don who was out of Shape and Obese and Wrenched the Shotgun from Him which He then locked in the Trunk of His car for Safe Keeping.

Mike was seriously one of the Most Artistically creative People I have EVER had the Sincere Pleasure of Knowing. Mike could Improvise like a Motherfucker No Matter what was Going On Mike could whip up a Song, Fictional Character, Short Story, or Movie Plot just to name a Few of Mike’s Natural Born Talents. Mike was the Ultimate Creative Collaborator the Synergy was fucking Insane like Two People living as One. Mike was the kind of Friend that We didn’t even Need to Talk, No verbalization Necessary to Communicate through just a series of Looks You’d know exactly what either of Us was Thinking/Feeling. It was Uncanny it Really fucking was. I image that being Friends with Mike equated to the Unexplained Link between sets of Twins.

Mike was also one of the Friendliest, Most Open Minded, Loyal, Caring, and Zen like People to ever walk the fucking Planet. I appreciated that being an Introvert who Spends Far too much Time in My own Head (sometimes to My Detriment) being Motivated by My Emotions. One of if not the Best piece of fucking Advice that has served Me well Over a Vast number of Years I got From Mike. I forget the exact Details other than We were Hanging Out in some Public Place, and I started to get Paranoid as a Motherfucker for some reason I can’t Remember. Mike Stared Me Dead in the Eye and in all seriousness said “Maybe what You think is going on ISN’T Going on because its all in Your Head??!”

Sad to Say that for Several Years Mike and I lost Touch until Our fucking Cliche finding One Another on (and it Pains Me so to Admit) Facebook back before Zuckerberg and I got into Our Battle of Wills. I will say this One of the first fucking things I did when the Bullshit FB shit happened I almost immediately exchanged Phone Numbers to Keep FB communications to a minimum. Unfortunately I ended up Abandoning Facebook which inadvertently lead to another Period of Separation if You will. Time went by and We ironically reconnected again on FaceBook, but it was Through My Wife who acted as My FB Middle Woman. From then on We talked several times a Month, but the Coolest Part was no matter how long it had been once We were reunited it wasn’t awkward or Weird in Any way whatsoever. Mike and I would simply Pick Up exactly whereWe left Off like No Time had passed at all.

My One and Only Regret is Not Seeing Mike in Person Face to Face since the Trip I took Junior Year to Visit Him. Technology has the Power to Connect, But it has No Personality. Some things can Only be done in Person there is absolutely No Technical Equivalent and Never fucking will be.

In Closing : I will Never Forget or Stop Missing My Dearly Departed Friend who I am sure is Giving Them Hell in Heaven.

Thanks for Giving a Shit & Reading,

By Les Sober

Cartoons That Aren’t For Kids: The Bad Egg and Molton Light

We start this Installment of Cartoons That Aren’t For Kids with the Award Winning Cartoon “The Bad Egg” Directed by Bala Vikram Veturi. “The Bad Egg” is a Fable of Sorts if You Will, a Cautionary Tale that warns One against the Consequences of Choosing Greed Over Need. That is to Say Choosing What You Want OVER What You Actually Need. Humanity has always, and especially in Today’s Times confused “Want” with “Need”.

A Prime Example of this is When the Wife of a Good Friend of Mine called Me up one Night Engulfed in Frustration. He Told Me that His Wife WANTED to Buy a New 90 inch TV to replace Their 60 Inch TV for NO OTHER REASON than She simply WANTED a Bigger TV in Reality.

When I asked My Friend about His Wife’s Reaction to Him stating the 90 inch TV was a Unnecessary (and bit impulsive) Purchase at the Time He told Me that once He started to Object She told Him that “They NEEDED the New TV.”, and Honestly thats Exactly what She Believed to be True. The Cliche that “Your Possessions End Up Owning You” could Never be Truer.

The Second Cartoon is Chad Van Gaalen’s “Molten Light” by Chad VanGaalen Who did The Animation as well as Providing the Music Accompaniment. “Molton Light” which also Serves as a Cautionary Tale of Revenge Warning One That Their are Consequences for One’s Actions. That and Some of Those Consequences can Hunt You Down and Kill You.

Hope You Enjoyed These Cartoon’s Cautionary Tales of Greed, Jealousy, Murder, Cannibalism, The Supernatural, and Revenge as Much as We Did.

Presented By Les Sober

The Human Hypocrisy in Death

Ever since Humanity Evolved the Intellectual Ability to Comprehend Death, that ALL things including Us will Die, and there’s No fucking Way around it. Due to the Fear of the Unknown (or in this case what May or May not lie Beyond in the Realm of Death) has Spawned everything from Organized Religion to The Exploration for an Actual Psychical Fountain of Youth.

All this Time, Effort, Money, and Concern in an Attempt to Cheat or Deny Death in the End. Forever Chasing The Ultimate Prize, the Trophy of Immortality.

There is though One Fate more Dreaded Than Death Itself, and thats To Linger barely holding on to Life while Sick, Suffering, and Wallowing in Pain.

So its No Wonder when it comes to People’s Beloved Animals once They come into Their Golden Years or to put it simply They Become Four Legged Senior Citizens. Once Our Pets Succumb to the Ravages of Old Age, As Their Teeth turn to Shit, They Loose Weight as well as Muscle Mass, Arthritis Takes Hold, Mobility and Bladder Control become An Issue, Senility, Their Eye Sight Dwindles, The Hearing goes Deaf, and We Deem that as “Having No Quality of Life”.We make one of the Hardest Calls Ever.

It’s said one of if not the Greatest Tragedy a Parent can face is Losing a Child because You’re Not meant to Out Live Your Children .They Out Live You and thats the Way it Is. Now based on that argument Pet Owners go through the same feelings of Loss, Depression, and Hopelessness as Parents do when They loose a Child, BUT Pet Owners will Experience such a Life Changing Loss Many, Many times during Their Lives.

As Humans We have Empathy and Compassion for Our Aged Animals, and would Never want to Prolong the Life of a Pet when all it has to Look Forward to is Slowly Suffering as it Creeps towards the Light. That is Why Not Only do We have Veterinarians to Heal/Cure Our Sick or Injured Pets, BUT, Veterinarians Provide a Service that is Alien in the World of Human Healthcare and that’s Euthanasia. And the Reason We have Euthanasia is to Relieve Our beloved Pets from Any and All Further Suffering. We all agree it’s the HUMANE thing to Do.

The Story though is Far Different when it comes to Humans and Death. Human’s for whatever reason can Justify the Sickness and Suffering of Elderly Family Members in particular. When a Relative becomes Gravely Ill and Whose’s End is Imminent We want Them to Be Pain Free and as Comfortable as Possible, BUT WE WON’T LET GO.

We throw Time, Money, Diagnostics, Medications, Tests, Medical Machines, Surgeries, and Doctors into the Mix to PROLONG a Loved One because THEY don’t want Them do Pass. People are fucking Selfish. People tend to Act in Their OWN Best Interest (Basically “I don’t want So-N-So to Die”) rather than that of The Sick and Suffering Family Member.

This Behavior has struck Fear into Many a Person’s Heart. The idea of Being Bed Ridden, Muddle Minded, In Pain, Soiling Ones Self, and Inability to Bath or Feed Oneself Trapped in the Confines of a Hospital Bed basking in the Soul sucking Florescent Lights. No One wants to Languish like a Living Corpse plugged into Menacing Medical Machines unable to Decide Your Own Fate as You wait Praying for the Sweet Release of Death.

This Fear gave Birth to a New Trend if You will The DO NOT RESUSCITATE (DNR) MOVEMENT. A DNR is often referred to as a “NO CODE”, an Advance Directive Document that Guides Medical Personnel to NOT PREFORM CPR or Otherwise try to Revive You/Family Member/Dear Friend if Their Heart has Stopped.

Once the Idea caught on DNR LEVELS were implemented which are as Follows:

Level 1: Stay in a Facility, and be kept Comfortable, BUT NOT Given Antibiotics or Other Medications to Cure You.

Level 2: Stay in a Facility and Receive ALL Medications AND Treatments possible Within Said Facility.

Level 3: To Be Transferred to a Hospital from a Nursing Facility, BUT NOT given CPR or Taken to Intensive Care.

Level 4: Be taken to a Hospital and Given ALL Possible Medical Interventions. DO EVERYTHING POSSIBLE.

Note: Level 1 and Level 2 Allow Someone to Die Naturally in Familiar Surroundings. Also Some States use Different Terms Such as:

AND: Stands for ALLOW NATURAL DEATH, used in End of Life Situations to be Clear that an End is Anticipated and the Natural Consequences of the Condition are Allowed to Proceed.

DNAR: DO NOT ATTEMPT RESUSCITATION, this should be Accompanied by SPECIFICS of which Forms of Interventions Can or Can Not be Used if One’s Heart Stops Beating.

The Moral to this Twisted Tale is This: Figure Out Your Personal Medical Wishes, and More Importantly MAKE THEM ABUNDANTLY KNOWN so They will be Honored.

(Note: Living Wills Don’t Mean Shit in the Medical World as there is so much bullshit Red Tape that Living Wills are Almost NEVER HONORED because the Hospital and Doctors have to Legally Cover Their Asses.)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober (12:47am)

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (33/365)

Suddenly Dizzy turned to Lee, and surprised the hell out of Him which was Rare as Lee wasn’t easily Surprised.

“You ever Notice how a lot of times Someone You know Dislikes or even Hates Some other Person until that Person Dies, and as soon as the Person is Dead They aren’t assholes anymore? It’s as if by Dying the Person in Question is immediately absolved of all Wrong Doings during Their Life, and the People who Previously Bitched, and Talked Shit about Them Now have Nothing but Respect and Reverence for the Deceased Who when Alive was the very Person They swore was the Bane of Their Existence.” said Dizzy matter of factly as He finished Beer Number 4, and Ordering Beer Number 5.

Dizzy waited for the Bartender to return with His Fresh Beer before inquiring “Hey You got shit to do Today or are You free to fuck around Town , and get into some type of Trouble?!”

Lee thought to Himself and realized that He didn’t have a damn thing to do so why not see where the Afternoon would take Him.

“I got some time to Hang Out’n see Whats What.” answered Lee earnestly as He shifted uneasily in His Seat. Watching People was Lee’s Forte, and Interacting with Them Tended to put Him on Edge at First due to His Serious Trust Issues.

“Alright Dope. I’ll call My Buddy over at the Shitty Theater and tell Him We’re leaving are Cars, and He’ll keep an Eye on Them so They don’t get Towed or Fucked With.” announced Dizzy quite Energetically before requesting to use the Bar’s Phone.

This struck Lee as very Peculiar since People Now a Days all Live in Constant Contact with the Aide of the ever Prevalent Smart Phones so using a Business’s Landline struck Lee as Note Worthy. While Lee pondered this newly discovered Oddity Dizzy was engaged in an Increasingly Loud and Aggressive Conversation with His Buddy at the Theater over the Car situation ending with Dizzy slamming down the Phone Receiver violently several times for emphasis.

“Fuck I can’t believe there are People Born who will never know the succinct Satisfaction of Hanging the fuck Up on Some Douche by Slamming Down the Phone Receiver. Anyway He said He’d watch the Cars, He was just being a real dick about it is all. He’s a Moody little Motherfucker. Goddamn Temperamental Artist Asshole.” snarled Dizzy Seething with Frustration and Simmering in Contempt.

“Alright,” Dizzy continued having gathered His composure from His perviously infuriating Phone call, “Do You have any Bitcoin? Unusual Question, but Ride only Takes Bitcoin that’s the only reason I’m asking.”

“No I don’t own any Crypo Currency because I really don’t see the Point. What I mean is I know what Bitcoin is right, and I know how You can buy It. Then it starts to get Shady because for one where the fuck can You spend it outside of The Dark Web? I can’t buy fucking food with it or Pay My fucking Bills with it so what the fuck is it good for exactly?! ALSO the one question NO ONE has been able to Answer is HOW THE HELL DO I CASH OUT?! Where and How can I convert My Bitcoin into Actual Physical Cash?!” responded Lee now finding Him to be the one getting all Amped.

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK for the Next Breath Taking Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (34/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober (Posted at 12:31am Sunday)

Part 2 The Forgotten

The lady had arrived at the final destination. She did not know how final it was or if she would be happy with the person next to her or the person inside of her in the morning, but she saw a shimmer in those eyes, like alpenglow cresting forth before the dawn.

There was no rhyme or reason. There was no great parade, no grand procession as she was accustomed to seeing. And so forth she went.

Well that lady is me. It is you. It is everyone of us. We all forget things that should not be forgotten. I personally have about five years of my life that I have blocked out due to PTSD. I treated myself deplorably and lived as such in almost every single facet of my being. I have difficulty distinguishing up or down, wrong or right, nearly every moment of those five years is a complete blur.

It is like it almost never happened but unfortunately it did. I sometimes tend to forget the year I am in, the age I may be, etc. at the given moment.

Several of my friends have gone through ECT, so I can relate with some degree of empathy with the lost thoughts, days, months, places. Except mine are in a more accessible place, a place I frankly choose not to access and which my conscious mind does not allow me to bring forth.

A lot of people I talk to think I am crazy. They do not wish to see the optimism I see in things to the point that I almost do not believe in it anymore. I have not forgotten that the world we live in is not a place of innocence, it is not a place of the nice guy never finishes last and the asshole never wins. It is opposite.

So as I sit here trying to break some kind of bread with Anne Frank, swastika emblazoned on my forehead. As I sit here wondering if all of my causes are noble or whether certain rocks should never be turned there is one thing I do not forget.

That there is still some kind of love, some kind of hope in this world. What brings me hope in the closest sense of the word is rather private but there are always rocks which need to overturned. Some should never have been touched but I touch. I feel, I learn. It has taken me a very long time to believe something I had forgotten for many, many years.

Luckily yesterday going to see a Pearl Jam concert on Halloween returned some of that lost innocence just a little bit more. Probably only for a little bit, but that’s a little bit more life in me then I had yesterday or the day before.

Everything in life brings you one step closer to death. Or one step closer to life. Most things are not that obvious. No one knows whether speeding down the highway or screaming at the top of your lungs makes you live more or die. All I know is today I am closer to life. Whatever lost cause tomorrow may bring.

By SpaceDog

Life and Death in Architectural History

For the most part most of people today are well aware that during the Victorian Era (June 20, 1837 – January 22, 1901) Society and People in Large were absolutely OBSESSED with Death. This led to a variety of practices that can seem by todays standards to be outrageous, Bizarre, Morbid, and just plain Sick.

Some of these unusual practices pertaining to Death in the Victorian Era were as follows. Postmortem Portraits meaning ( Note: prior to 1839 all Portraits were PAINTED by hand) the relatives of the Dead would dress the Deceased and stage them in in Life Like poses for a Photograph, Especially Infants and Children.

There was also the practice of Wearing the Hair of the Dead. The hair could be put in a locket or more commonly made into a piece of Jewelry such as Brooches, Bracelets, Rings or Chains.

Another was the practice of Covering Mirrors. Once the family member died all mirrors in the House were immediately covered. This was done because if a mirror in the House fell and broke it was a sign someone else in the Household would die soon as well. Also to avoid bad luck the clock(s) in the house of the Deceased would be stopped at the exact time of their passing. Lastly when the body was removed from the premises it had to be carried out Head First so that it wouldn’t beckon other members of the Living to Follow.

Now if SEVERAL family members of the same family died EVERYONE and EVERYTHING that entered the Family Home would be wearing a Black Ribbon to PREVENT THE DEATHS FROM SPREADING FURTHER.

For my last example I will use the practice of taking all Family photos and turning them face down. This was to prevent the Deceased’s Spirit form POSSESSING Relatives and Friends alike.

Back in the Victorian Era Funeral Homes had very little to do with Death other than selling Coffins, and possibly providing the Grave Digging Service too. So when it came to such things as a Viewing/Wake it fell solely on the Families shoulder’s.

Based on what we have seen by the first example (Death Portraits) you better believe a Viewing/Wake was deemed absolutely necessary, BUT the question was “Where the hell do we Keep and Display The Dead?!” Without the services of Today’s Funeral Homes Families would hold the Viewing/Wake (which could last several days) in their house.

Since you couldn’t display a body in the kitchen, Houses when they were built had a Parlor Room. This room specific and really only purpose was to display Dead Family for the Viewing/Wake. And yes the name Parlor was a shortened version of Funeral Parlor.

Over time of course Funeral Homes realized their was a shit ton of cash they were missing out in in the Death Service Field. Slowly Funeral Homes came to resemble those of today offering a SLEW of Funeral options, but most importantly They had their own Viewing areas for Wakes. Thus Parlor’s found themselves unemployed and thrown out on their collective ass.

The issue that confronted POST Victorian Era Architects (and Society as a whole) was the lingering stigma of The Parlor. As we all can image as long as houses were built with Parlor’s the vision of Dead relatives on display would haunt the room’s reputation until the end of Time.

What comes next is NOT AN EXACT nor ANYWHERE CLOSE HISTORICALLY ACCURATE retelling of how The Parlor problem was Fixed.

One day on January 1, 1901 the American Architecture Society met for a special conference that was being held for the sole reason of coming up with a viable solution for the Prevalent Parlor Problem. The conference was held in a small town of Mortuary located on the outskirts of Death Valley in Sunny California. They unanimously agreed at the time that the Town name and Location were quite appropriate, and if your going to have a convention dealing with Death best to have it in a beautiful Sunny State full of Bleach Blonde Surfers?!!

Any who the morning was a complete wash, no one could see to come up with even a half decent answer to the Parlor Problem. By Noon everyone’s blood sugar was in their ankles so the Mediator called 60 minutes for Lunch hoping after a good meal the Men’s mental faculties might actually yield a solution.

As the Conference was breaking for Lunch a young attendy (an Architectural Student from Erroneous University in Pluskin the East end of South Dakota) by the name of Eger Herberts over heard two fellow attendees conversation on the said subject of Lunch. One Man had asked the other where exactly should they go for Lunch today. The 2nd Man replied he thought Lunch at The Lively Leprechaun Kitchen and Bar would be a good idea. To that the First Man said “Ah Food and Drink under one roof now thats Living!”

Right then Eger had his Epiphany and immediately ran over a pushed the conferences Emergency Stop Button. Once The Emergency Stop Button was pushed all in Attendance had to Stop dead in their tracks, and await instruction. Once everyone was motionless and silent Eger announced his answer.

“What’s the OPPOSITE of Death? Life! LIVING! We rename it a LIVING ROOM, Thats POSITIVE as all get out Right?!”

After the Shock and Awe wore off it was put to a vote right there on the spot and as a result the (Funeral) Parlor was REBRANDED as what we know of today as yes a Living Room.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober

Time To Pay The Piper

It had been years since she had met the distinguished gentlemen on the long dusty dirt road that ran past her family’s farm. Unlike all the other men she had in her life, the distinguished gentlemen delivered on all that he had promised her.
She graduated college at the head of her class and had a prosperous career. She was introduced to the man of her dreams a tall, strong, ruggedly handsome man with a heart of gold, and they were married in Rio the following year. After marrying they bought their dream house with an impeccably managed lawn, white picket fence, and large oak tree in the front yard. It was as if the house was a Norman Rockwell painting come to life. The happy couple went on to have four fabulous children two boys and two girls just as she had imagined when she was a small child herself. The children were well behaved and never a bother, they were polite and well mannered, loving, and intelligent. Once her children had grown and moved away to start their own families she was blessed with several glorious grandchildren. She retired early with a healthy pension as did her husband. They two spent their golden years side by side as they traveled around the world, bought a new house and moved to Canada. She had time to indulge her hobbies, spending many a lazy day in the garage that they had converted into an art studio just for her. Her life had turned out exactly the way she had envisioned it nothing less than a miracle in her mind.
She only saw the distinguished gentlemen one more time, on her death bed when he came to collect her soul.

Business Can Be Hellish

Mrs. Newham had been standing on the curb nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot for the better part of an hour. Finally, an elegant, streamlined, shiny black stretch limo pulled up in front of her and parked. The rear door opened slowly giving an ominous feeling. Mrs. Newham bent down to enter the limo and took a seat next to an impeccably dressed thin man. The door shut with a solid thud as the car pulled away from the curb and headed down the road.
“I think its safe to assume you’re Mrs. Newham,” said the man in a low emotionless tone. “Yes, yes I am.” replied Mrs. Newham meekly. “What can I do for you then Mrs. Newman?”

“I want to discuss your business dealings with my husband Edgar,”
“Why would you wish to do that?”
“Well Sir…”
“Vondire My name is Vondire,” said the thin man rudely interrupting Mrs. Newham.
“Well, Mr. Vondire my husband has been under a great deal of duress as of late, when it comes to his family’s business.” continued Mrs. Newham nervously.
“I am aware of your husbands business troubles. He told me all about it when he came to seek my council.”
“Then you know exactly what I’m talking about?”
“ I do, but it has nothing to do with me or the arrangement I made with your husband, Edgar.”
“ Mr. Vondire the arrangement you made with Edgar is utterly unrealistic not to mention preposterous.”

“It’s not preposterous or unrealistic; if a man agrees to the arrangement as your husband did. I’m not one to go back on my word, as it’s not good for business, especially in my line of work I assure you Mrs. Newham.
Vondire leisurely leaned forward so he could reach the limo’s bar. He took a crystal tumbler from a small cabinet. He then selected a bottle of scotch and poured 3 fingers into the lavish crystal tumbler before leaning back into his seat.
“You see Mrs. Newham,” said Vondire pausing to take a sip of scotch “I’m a businessman who abides by a strict rule of conduct. If someone, be they sound of mind or under duress like your husband, barters an agreement with me it’s iron clad.”

“But Mr. Vondire you can surely see that my poor Edgar was at his wits end. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping well for several months. The thought of losing his family business was more than he could bear,” Mrs. Newham said franticly, on the verge of begging.
“My agreement with your husband is not different from any other agreement I have with any other client. The damage is done Mrs. Newham. I suggest you thoroughly enjoy what my arrangement with your husband has provided for the two of you. Worrying about the inevitable will accomplish nothing.”

“Please Mr. Vondire my husband had no idea what he was agreeing to. He was too frazzled to make a sound judgment, more or less one of this magnitude.”
“Begging and Pleading will not change my mind and serves only to annoy me Mrs. Newham.”
“ But you haven’t left me any choice as I’m at your mercy” said Mrs. Newham doing her best to not give in to the impulse to bite her nails which she did when she was truly scared.
“ Isn’t there anything, anything at all I can do to change your mind Mr. Vondire?”
Mr. Vondire took a long sip of his scotch almost finishing it before he spoke.
“No, Mrs. Newham there is absolutely nothing you can do to change my arrangement with your husband. The deal was done as soon as your husband agreed to my contractual arrangement. People’s personal problems are just that, personal.”
“You can’t be serious! No one is that cold and unyielding. I can’t stand the idea of having my beloved husband by my side only to lose him forever, I can’t bear the thought of it, it makes me physically ill.” said Mrs. Newham fidgeting uncontrollably in her seat.

“This matter though it affects you greatly is no concern of mine. All you and your husband will do is honor the arrangement your husband and I made. “ said Vondire before finishing his scotch in one giant gulp. “I’m done with my drink and this concludes our conversation on this matter.”
The limo slowed down and came to an abrupt stop. The door once again opened itself slowly to allow Mrs. Newham to exit the car. Mrs. Newham feeling dejected and totally hopeless exited the car once again standing upon the curb. She then heard the low hum of the limo’s automatic window. Mrs. Newham looked up from the sidewalk and saw that the rear window of the limo was rolled down. She bent down and came face to face with Mr. Vondire whose eyes were such a brilliant shade of green, that for a moment it looked like someone actually removed his eyes and replaced them with real emeralds.
“Remember your wedding vows?” asked Vondire with a wicked grin sprawled across his weather worn face “It’s until death do we part. Remember that when you’re lamenting the loss of your beloved husband Edgar.”

I Survived the Smutville Summer of Slaughter 1976

It was a favorable fall evening in the midst of July as we slowly assembled our motley crew of usual small town misfits behind the Piggly Wiggly. I as always arrived first as patience is a virtue I was born without followed by Clitoria and her white trash future meth cooking boyfriend aptly named Tweaky. The three of us stood around loitering like a son of a bitch and chain smoking Cowboy Killers until finally Ziggy Zag (the one and only marijuana peddler in the entire county of Pornotovia) who operated on some bizarrely slow internal clock ,but you couldn’t get too pissed off at him as he was the only small town connection. The final stragglers Tool, Tits McGee, MC Satan and Ms. Muff wondered in 45 minutes later citing their lateness on a glitch in obtaining the evenings alcohol (as we were all underage high school seniors at the time.)

There 2 elementary issues when your drinking underage first being how to obtain the alcohol and secondly a place to consume the said alcohol. We had already solved issue one by bribing Scumbag Billy the local small town 22 year old delinquent. Scumbag Billy graduated from the local high school (on the 6 year plan mind you) stayed in town taking a shit job as a mechanic down at Jiffy Lube of route 1171 ,and lived in a hellhole of a mobile home. Scumbag Billy “Inherited” the property when his parents vacated the premises 3 years back to avoid being arrested for bootlegging. We had this pre party at the Pig to devise a drinking place free from the prying eyes of neighbors and the ever bored ever present police. Some cliches are cliches because they’re real and just one such saying is “News travels quickly through a small town” which is absolutely and fundamentally correct. Just a few hours earlier Ziggy Zag had overheard a conversation at the local convenience store between 2 guys who worked in construction. What the 2 construction works were talking about was next weeks project that was due to start the following Monday ,but before they could build a damn thing the previous structure and to be demolished. Apparently this monopoly like cookie cutter mass produced single story business building (at the ass end of an industrial complex) had gone bankrupt, and as a result the office was cleared out and locked up a couple of days ago. It was a unanimous vote by all that tonight we’d party at the newly abandoned office building because 1. No Neighbors, 2. All the workers else where in the complex went home no later than 6 p.m. and 3. It was such a new spot that the cops hadn’t heard of it yet and added it to their nightly rounds about town.

With decision in hand we piled like circus clowns into MC Satan’s 1968 Ford station wagon which was an anomaly unto itself. MC Satan’s Station Wagon was beyond a beater and more towards rattling death trap as the speedometer was completely broken, the floor boards on the passengers side had rusted all the way through so one could see the road while driving, the gas gauge was shaky at best, the dashboard lights would flicker on then off ,and the radiator gauge was stuck in the over heating position permanently. Thankfully the drinking location was located approximately 8-10 minutes from the Pig.

When we arrived we were all delighted to find the bankrupt business building as perfect and promising as we had hoped in our heads. The parking lot behind the building was small enough to avoid having a shit ton of other people there calling attention to themselves. The lot was also dimly lit allowing us to see what was happening but also allowing us not to be seen if the cops showed up and we had to hide right quick. Lastly there were thick woods around the entire perimeter which was damn near perfect if hiding wasn’t enough and we had to make a run for it. It didn’t take long to set up camp and within mere minutes there was smoking,toking,drinking and fucking abounding under the star ridden sky. The hedonistic partying went on barreling into the late hours of the night until Tweaky heard something and the night evolved into a nightmare.

We all had reconvened for a toking circle that consisted of us standing in a circle each with a joint, blunt,bowl or bong and simultaneously lighting up. Then we just passed to the left until all of said marijuana had been smoked and then proceeded to plan where we would be acquiring late our night dining needs. Now a vote had to be taken as oddly for a small town there where several diners and a token Denny’s by the Mall competing for our munchie money. All of sudden as Ms.Muff and Tool were vehemently going at it over The Waterford diner versus The Greasy Spoon as to who had better what when Tweaky stood up quickly ,and started looking around like a cracked out Mearcat scanning around in a complete 360 degrees. The first thing we tried to figure out was if Tweaky was bugging out because he was too intoxicated, but so were we so we were unable to decide. There then was a moment of collective intense anxiety as we wondered then if in fact the cops had found us out which turned out not to be the case. Since we didn’t know if Tweaky’s behavior was do to drugs and drink as well as feeling relieved we didn’t have to haul ass through the woods to escape from the cops, then what the hell was going on? Upon asking Tweaky as to what the origin of his behavior was we were answered with a question that being had we heard something out of the ordinary a moment ago. None of us recollected hearing shit but each other when Tweaky snapped to attention and again demanded to know if we had heard the mysterious noise that time to which the answer was again no. Tweaky now having gotten himself completely twisted over the alleged unknown noise that we decided to all quite down right quick and give it a listen. Well to the surprise of us all there in fact was a very strange noise coming from the woods off to our left. Immediately we went from disbelieving Tweaky to feverishly trying to define the origin of this curious unidentified noise. With out blinking MC Satan stated the noise was that of flesh eating deer. Instantly Tits McGee criticized the hypothesis as not being possible because deer are herbivores so meat was not on their specific dietary menu. MC Satan respond by saying there was a scientifically viable biological reason behind the newly discovered flesh eating deer phenomenon. As we were already aware there was a more than healthy local deer population, but what we didn’t know MC Satan informed us was that a mutated strain of the rabies virus had reached America from a North Western South East region of Africa. Now this mutant strand had also mutant side effects upon the late stage behavior of its victims. While the known original strain of rabies instills a irrational terror like fear of water in its victims, the mutant strain seemed to instill a homicidally high prey drive in normal herbivores turning pretty prey animals into putrid predators. Before anyone had a split second to call bullshit the woods erupted into a flurry of activity, the bushes started rustling, tree limbs shaking and sticks breaking accompanied by a deafening crescendo of the unknown noise. It was instantly obvious that whatever was happening in the woods was massive and more then likely something non of us wanted to fuck with. We franticly started gathering up our shit as fast as we possibly could desperate to get the fuck out of there, but we never stood a chance in hell of that. The deer exploded from the woods in force, there were so many of the damnable beasts that at first they looked like one single entity a giant blurry brown mass stampeding toward us like a living tsunami of slaughter. Our fight or flight instinct kicked in and the adrenaline flowed like the nile as we ran for our piddly little lives. Ms. Muff being a 2 beer queer light weight didn’t make it a fucking foot before the deer where raining down upon her like a pack of land based piranha. The piercing sound of Muff’s screaming bloody gore as the sick wet sounds of ripping flesh, mutilating muscles, tearing tendons filled our fleeing ears. Tool turned out to be the true pussy of the pack as he froze in utter fear watching Ms. Muff being turned into an human order of shredded beef until there was nothing left of her but bare bloody bones. A massive buck charges full force from the woods straight at Tool dead on. The deer plowed into Tool with a meaty smack its huge antlers impailing Tool tossing him high into the air with his intestines trailing behind him like the tail of a fucked up kite. Poor Tits McGee was only capable of sprinting short distances before her massive pendulous breasts swung so out of whack she became top heavy and off kilter causing her to fall flat on her funny face. Once Tits went down she just disappeared, absorbed into the murderous mass of the deers of death leaving nothing of Tits but a blood stain on the assault. Clitoria stumbled over her beloved bong and when she did a deadly doe rammed its entire head up Clitoria’s ass and ate her alive from the inside out making it look like she violently imploded. Now if you’ve ever heard someone say its damn near impossible to catch a crackhead well that ain’t shit compared to Tweaky fueled by cheap moonshine and decent quality biker crank. Tweaky needless to say was way the hell ahead of the group that was until the combination of the intoxicants and sky high adrenaline level overloaded Tweaky’s system causing him to loudly and quite violently shit himself to death instantly on the spot. With Tweaky laying face down in a bloody pool of his own feces with a prolapsed asshole Ziggy Zag and I decided to run like hell for MC Satan’s crappy car, but Satan living up to his name had apparently already reached the car and drove off like a bat out of hell. Upon finding ourselves fucked over by Satan Ziggy and I decided running toward the water sewage plant at the end of the road was our best plan b. We gave it our all and managed to make it to the water sewage plant with the deer literally nipping at our asses, but Ziggy was so terrified at that point he didn’t stop running before accidentally falling head over heals into the sewage plants water re purification open air holding tank (a massive circular tank used in the reclaimed water process of turning sludge and shit into Agricultural grade reusable water)

Once I managed to climb over the sewage plants 15 foot chain link perimeter fence and clear the barbwire I promptly turned around to see where the fuck this horrible horde of mutant rabies infected deer was currently at and couldn’t believe my eyes. The deer of damnation had turned on each other and were devouring one another in a feeding frenzy of blood lust. Apparently I was spared a horrendously horrible demise due to the fact the herd of infected deer were in the final stages directly prior to death causing the cannibalistic carnage I witnessed that ultimately saved my life.