Three Highly Questionable Stories
When we were in Philadelphia last week, Mr. Never-Stops-Talking told an uplifting story about going to a “suicide funeral.” I guess the deceased had been married, had two kids in middle school, and seemed to be living the American suburban dream. Then one evening he walked out to his garage and shot himself in the head.
According to the storyteller there were no outward signs of trouble, and the whole thing was a mystery. But isn’t that the way those kinds of stories usually go? It’s more dramatic if there were no indications of a problem.
Anyway, the guy provided a couple of disturbing details, that I’m having a little trouble shaking.
He said they had an open casket, for one thing, and a baseball cap had been placed on the poor bastard’s head. And it wasn’t even straight, it was slightly askew, which made it worse somehow.
Also, during the ceremony the priest made reference to the suicide, in front of the kids and everybody, and reminded everyone that the man would be required to spend some time in hell. But, he assured the crowd, he would probably be able to earn his way out.
WTS?? Was that really necessary? Especially considering the setting? And what’s the deal with earning your way out of hell? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Please don’t tell me there’s brown-nosing in the afterlife, too? Oh, man.
Have you ever been to a suicide funeral? Or any unusual funerals, for that matter? Tell us about it. And what do you think of the priest and the baseball cap? Why can’t I get all that stuff out of my head??
Another questionable story I heard during Thanksgiving dinner: A friend of a friend is a school teacher, you see, in downtown Philly somewhere. And she had a student last year named La-a, pronounced Ladasha — the dash isn’t silent.
Heh. I don’t believe that one for a minute, it’s got urban legend written all over it, but it’s funny anyway. La-a.
What’s the most ridiculous first name you’ve ever heard? We worked with a man in Atlanta who had a daughter named Quintabitha, and that’s the best I can do right now. Do you have anything on this? Use the comments link below.
Toney is friends with the mother of the older Secret’s best friend. So, she and Toney constantly compare notes, and talk back and forth about all the latest middle school gossip, etc.
Over the weekend the woman (let’s call her Cindy) called Toney, and was upset at her son (we’ll call him Jesse), and the following conversation took place later in the day.
Toney: Cindy called today, all up in arms because she found another Playboy in Jesse’s room.
Me: Playboy? What is this, 1968? They still publish that?
Toney: I guess so.
Me: Huh. Well, you know (the older Secret) is looking at those magazines when he goes over there, right?
Toney: I don’t care.
Me: Yeah, I don’t either.
I remember kids getting caught with Playboy or Penthouse or Hustler Horny Dwarves #6 when I was a youngling, and their parents freaked out completely. They almost had their sons sent away to reeducation camps somewhere, to get their heads straight.
So, my reaction to all this is about 180 degrees out of phase from the parents of my youth. It makes me wonder (not really) if I’m doing something wrong. But come on… Those guys are almost fourteen years old. You might be able to confiscate their porn stash, but there’s no way to stop what’s going on inside their heads. All the disgraceful, disgraceful stuff…
Oh, I remember.
What do you think about this situation? Should “Cindy” be concerned about “Jesse’s” always-regenerating Playboy magazine? She keeps taking them away, and they almost instantly reappear… Ha!
Did you ever get caught with porn when you were a kid? Luckily, I made it through without experiencing that particular humiliation. What about you? Tell us about it, won’t you? And anything else you might have on this always-fun subject…
I need to call it a day now, and… go to work. (Hey, now I know where Drivin n Cryin got their name!)
Filed under: Daily
FIRST, MOFOs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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First???
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La-a is pronounced “Lahyphena”.
“Ladasha” is spelled like this: La—a.
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I was afraid to enter my teenage son’s rooms, much less root around looking for “porn”. I mean, finding the crusty dirty bowls under the bed that contained god-knows-what, the dirty clothes that could walk by themselves??? Gives me full body shivers just thinking about it.
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My sister was a sub teacher and had a child in her class with the name “Shithead” (I swear). She stopped and said, I think there is a mis-spelling here, how do you pronouce your name – he said it was pronounced “Sha theed”. Who would do this to their own child?!
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La-a, complete urban myth. Swami, that was freakin’ hilarious, though!
Confiscating the porn only makes it more exciting to get the next one (and more variety of images). I say “ignore” it, too. Sheesh, kids can’t do ANYTHING these days.
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With what’s available to anyone with an Internet connection today, “Cindy” should be very relieved that “Jesse” is only looking at Playboy magazines. Rather than, say, Internet video of a woman taking it up the rear while sucking on a second dude’s willy — ’cause “Jesse” could easily find that video, and tens of thousands more just like it, with a few simple clicks of a mouse. I can’t imagine being a 14-year-old boy today — I think my head would’ve exploded. The airbushed boobies of a Playboy Playmate were enough to get us young teens worked into a frenzy in the 1970s, so I just can’t imagine how a boy reacts to seeing hardcore video-porn today. And I wonder if it screws with their heads somehow, and we’re going to have a nation of sex-crazed wackos in ten years. (But then, that’s probably what our parents thought about us looking at Playboys 30 years ago, and is the reason for the harsh reaction of some parents back then.)
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after i got divorced my mom found a couple of nude pics of the ex wife in a drawer while helping me move…lovely…..she had found the hustler/swank collection about 20 years earlier……never said a word about either…..thank god…….maybe ill be able to work that out of hell in a couple of hours…..
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Went to the funeral of a cousin of a good friend about 6 months ago. The guy had gone through a divorce, had children (single digit to teen age) and was living, temporarily with his mother until he could get his own place. They sat down together, had Sunday dinner and chit-chatted, everything as a normal meal could or would be. After dinner, his mother decided to take a nap on the sofa and her son retired to his room and blew his head off. The minister at the service did the right thing and tried to assure the family and gathered friends that he would be ok in the after life. But, who the heck knows until you get there? Sounds like that Priest had a screw or two loose.
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TOP TEN!!
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Lahyphena – HA! good one, Swami!
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Strange name:
Ma~
Pronounced Matilde (as in “Walzing Matilde”).
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When I was young, I waffled around organized religion-trying to believe and be involved, but the final straw to my path to atheism was watching a TV preacher tell a call-in believer desperately seeking solace, that her suicide son was most definitely going to hell, because the bible states it and that was God’s law (complete with deep voice intonations and actual bible waving). Yep, all done with all that, thanks. If there is a hell, I hope that dude and his white pompadour hair gets there, and fast. Ass hat. Rant over, sorry.
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Who the hell buys porn anymore? The internets provide so much of that shit that today’s teenagers will be completely desensitized by it by the time they are adults.
Never got caught with it when I was a teenager. However, I got the ass beating of my life when I was thirteen and got caught with (gulp!) Vivarin.
Mellancamps son is named SPECK. He has a facebook page now to promote a million people to join to get Dad to quit smoking. I propose that if a million people sign up, SPECK goes away, so we won’t ever have to hear the name SPECK MELLANCAMP again.
Cheeto, Limbo, Cracker-Jack, Orangejello, K-Martina, Salmonella, Velveeta-Genitalia, Catfish, Leroy, Coco-Puffs, Pluto, Penelope, Jack Daniels, Buford and Lemonjello. Aloe Vera, Maybelline, Gingivitis, Brillcreme, Cruex, NyQuil, Gangsta Q, Daffodil, Ron Bacardi, Captain Morgan, DeMoctorious, Delorian, Gyne-lotrimin, Fellatia, Chlamydia-Champagne. Nova-Scotia, Bubblicious, Couponita, Gonorrhea, Ice Bucket, Buttuglia, Visine, Margarita, Percolator, Terminator, Velcro, Taekwondo, Varicella, Chromosoma, Obstetria and Shi’thead.
On IPOD right now- “Stigmata”- Ministry
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My next-older brother was the one that always got busted for porn. ‘Course he was the one bringing it in to the house so that stands to reason. I merely “borrowed” his and put it back in his room where Mom could find it (were she to go looking). One time I couldn’t get it back to his room before he came home so I buried it under some blankets in the hall closet. That way neither he nor my parents could catch me with the goods. Well I guess I forgot about it and 10 years later my Mom and Dad decided to paint the upstairs. Part of that entailed cleaning out the hall closet. Lo and behold there’s Penthouse 1978!
My Mom used to lecture my brother about the mags, saying “Timmy, if you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all.” I’ve never forgotten that because it’s mostly true if you’ve only seen about a dozen or so. But the more you see the more you appreciate not only the wide range but also the subtle range of differences! Kind of like snowflakes!
About 5 years ago I looked on eBay for a copy of the June 1972 Playboy – the first one I ever saw. Not everything was exactly as I remembered it but it was absolutely tame compared to the stuff you can get today (and free too, on the internet, as noted above); even compared to Playboy today. It took years to figure out what my “kinks” were. Now you can do it with all-night session on the internet.
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I knew a girl in high school called Corolla Venture…Venture was a department store over here along the lines of Target!
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1) No way. Undertakers and their employees can fix anybody to look pretty “normal”. The back of the head might be missing, but they can putty the face and paint. Urban legend.
2) I’m not a Catholic, but as far as I know, if you off yourself, you go to hell. No post-mortem deal-making. But I’m just a retired Methodist.
3) LaDasha: Unless she’s an official Navajo code-talker, which would make her a 90-year-old male, it’s an urban legend.
4) Playboy: Baloni got this right. What you can see on the Web without a credit card is Playboy raised to the fifth power. And most porn sites come with many free cookies and plenty of spyware, so they have that going for them. Finding a Playboy in your son’s room presents a wonderful opening to talk about sex and STD’s and relationships. If the kids keep explaining it, the parents will understand sooner or later.
jtb
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We used to steal my uncle’s palyboy magazines. We wanted to “read” the articles.
Maybe Jesse’s mom needs to “read” some of the articles with him so she can answer any questions he might have.
One time Mom caught me with a S&M magazine.She asked Dad what my punishment should be and he said “Well, I guess spanking him is out of the Question”.
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Sorry — forgot…. Now on the Sony CD Walkman, “Smokestack Lightnin’” by Howlin’ Wolf.
jtb (daytime version)
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A friend of mine is a teacher in Brooklyn, and every semester I get the rundown of the best names of the students in her class. This year’s winners: Pandora and Philander.
I am still blown away by D’Brickashaw.
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Oh, and my mom was a labor and delivery nurse. One woman heard her use a word (not knowing it was a female body part). Later she said it was preety sounding and wanted to name her newborn daughter Vagina.
I always wanted to meet a girl named Vagina!
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I judged a debate competition and one of the best competitors (he was REALLY good) was named Bee A. Ware. I thought he was pulling my leg and one of the other judges warned me off. I think his dad was pulling a “Boy Named Sue” scenario.
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During my aunt’s funeral Mass in the early 90s, the priest’s beeper went off. Twice. And he stopped mid-sermon both times to check who was paging him.
I was wishing it was my aunt’s number calling from the great beyond It STILL pisses me off.
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My dad killed himself when I was 25, which was appx 25 yrs ago. We had always been estranged from Dad’s family…cause my mom felt they were “nothing but white trash…whale shit” as my mom use to say. As we all knew back then, there’s nothing lower than whale shit.. During the calling hours (open casket), a group of folks walked in the funeral home and they looked like they had taken the short bus from the State school over to a Walmart. There wasn’t likely a complete set of chromosomes amoung any of them. They gazed at my Dad for a few minutes and then started screaming at my mom (then 50 yrs old) saying things like…”You bitch, you made him do this”…”you never loved him”…”he should have shot you instead”.
Yikes…my brother and I plus a couple of uncles stepped in and held them back because they looked like they were going to assault my mom. A fist fight broke out at my Dad’s calling hours at Whitty’s Funeral Home.
Simply excellent!!!
The cops came, arrested a couple of them…they were drunk and one had a hunting knife in his boot.
After all the dust settled…the funeral director lit a joint and said he hated his job mostly…except at times like this. Simply excellent comment.
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First off, you have a refreshingly enlightened attitude towards the secret looking at porn. Don’t damn them for what you did yourself is my motto. Secondly, I’ve been to a Catholic suicide funeral. My friend Darrin started his car in the garage with the door and windows shut. No warning signs other than that he’d been sleeping in class during the week leading up to it which was unusual for him. They had an open casket funeral and I just remember three things. First his face was all awful looking and puffed up. Second, his parents appeared to have aged 10 years in a week. Lastly and perhaps most importantly the priest had the tact not to say that Darrin was hell bound. That’s a bunch of bullshit anyway. I’ve read the entire bible and the only thing it says that will for sure get you a ticket to the hell express is to blaspheme against the Holy Spirit.
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Also, my mom found a porno mag, or “jack book”, as my father called them, under the extra sheets in the back of the linen closet.
I got home from school, greeted by my friggin hysterical-assed mother screaming at the top of her lungs about finding the skin mag. If Imy mom had discovered a 12 year old girl held captive in my room I do not believe she would have reacted any differently. She was completely losing her shit over a goddam magazine. What a fuckin psycho.
Maybe my dad should have capped her instead of himself. No wonder he did what he did (see earlier email from me).
Mexico Motorcycle
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A few unusual first names I’ve heard, all girls: Dance, America, Freedom, Classy
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The person who told you the La-a story was telling you in code “I am a racist.” Same for people who tell the Palcenta or Fe-ma-le story too.
I went to school with a kid named True Story.
Swear to god, true story.
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Had a HUGE shoplifted porn stash……………..and look how well I turned out!
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Regarding suicide furnerals…I think they’re always sad, for those left behind and for the one in the casket. But only God knows what was going through their heads and their inner struggles and rationale. He’s going to be a busy God on Judgement Day!
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Here’s the skinny behind your Playboy situation. The kid has an easily accessible adult with a subscription. His mom really doesn’t have a problem with him “stealing it”, but when she realized that your secret had possibly been “exposed” she thought she’d relay a story that let you know he’d been exposed and that they weren’t the perverts giving your kid the inappropriate material. Because nobody wants to think their kid is at the neighbor’s house looking at porn with an adult present because that’s creepy.
Here’s my take on the suicide thing. Nobody, not even clergy are supposed to judge other people. It was not only rude to say those things at a funeral it runs counter to the fundamental Christian principal of forgiveness. It’s stories like these that give people the idea that Christians are judemental a–holes. The way it figure there are more priests and ministers in hell than suicide victims, but who am I to judge?
The priest must have been making a reference to purgatory, wich is like psuedo-hell where if the living pray hard enough or pay enough money to the church their loved ones can move on to Heaven.
Hell is hell, and like Heaven its forever, last time I checked.
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Sweet sainted mother of Charles Nelson Reilly!
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Working in a medical office, I see and hear many ridiculous names. But the best I have ever heard is from a plastic surgery resident I worked with who told a story about a kid in his New York, 90% Jewish elementary school who rolled in by the name of Cash Money Murphy. He said…”let’s just say you could pick him out of the crowd”.
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Oh, knew a guy named Tom Morrow
And, 2 brothers employed in my company: Lake and Brooke Trout .
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My mom had a lifetime subscription (or so it seemed) to Playgirl while I was growing up and she did nothing to hide it. My sisters, friends and I knew where to find the latest copy and perused it as soon as it came in the mail. My mother didn’t care. (She thinks Americans are too prudish anyway.) I think we’re all fairly normal despite a little porn early on. If I were a parent, I’d be far more concerned about my child being given misinformation from the anti-porn lobby and those who tout abstinence (while doing all manner of deviant, freaky-deaky things themselves) as the only way. We all know how realistic it is to expect young people to remain chaste and untouched until marriage. Instead I’d concentrate my efforts on making my kid into a kind, responsible, and respectful human being.
I’ll admit to prejudging people with ridiculous, concocted names. In my experience, if you have a name that makes you sound like a redneck, hillbilly, ghetto rat, etc., you more than likely are. Not that we should all be named Ann or John or Susan or Michael…. (No offense. My real name is common enough.)
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Usually it’s the Roman Catholics and Evangelicals that are judgmental @$$holes. Take it from somebody that was raised as the former.
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We had a worker this summer named Pedequarn. We just called him Pete.
As for the porn, I overlooked the magazines with my boy. It’s what you forbid ‘em that perverts ‘em is my opinion. I did give him “talks” on the internets stuff–mostly about wherever he went I could see if I wanted. Probably did more harm than good.
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Been to a couple of suicide funerals, but that priest definitely sounds like he has a screw loose…totally inappropriate. Here’s my creepy funeral story…actually, it was at a viewing. The brother of a friend of mine was a very well known bartender in the area, and had been diagnosed with cancer. He held on for a couple of years, and through it all was nursed by his longtime girlfriend, but of course, he eventually died. So, at his viewing, they had a wedding. Yep, the longtime girlfriend showed up at the viewing in a wedding dress, and staged a symbolic ceremony, marrying the two of them. Even put a ring on his finger and everything. Can you believe that shit? Of course, the jokes were flying around the community once word got out that this had happened…the funniest of which was her asking if they would ever get married, and him saying, “Over my dead body!” Heh.
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About the suicide funeral…. totally inappropriate to talk about it at the person’s send-off. Why rub salt in the open wounds of those who cared about the deceased? If I believed in god, he would be a kind and forgiving sort who had extra compassion for those people who are clearly distraught or disturbed enough to end their lives. (Those who do it to avoid punishment for heinous crimes are a completely different story.)
On another note: for those of you who are looking to increase your holiday music collections, Amazon is offering a free song each day until Christmas. (Song’s are chosen by Amazon’s MP3 staff.) Today’s selection is Joy to the World by Casting Crowns.
http://www.amazon.com/25daysoffree
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I’m a teacher in a low-income school district, so I see a crazy bunch of names every year.
From this year’s roster:
Luzhenessy
Nairobi
Blessing
Meadow
Kwasatiriah
Zaqirra
Zariya
Dazya
Naiara
Arnasia
Quadir
Aleem
Bryce
Dayanarah
DaShaun
Jaiana
Iyanla
Jaymira
Jemilynn
Javian
Keanu
Khalil
Dondre
Cyndal
Jamila
Talisha
Yesenia
Javan
Jovan
Jovon
Apostrophes within names seem to be the big thing right now:
De’Jour
M’Ya
N’Ya
Ny’Ajah
A’Nya
Creative spellings abound as well:
Camryn
Aryanna
Kaiyana
Mariyah
Nadiya
Tyana
Tiyyana
Tayanna
Skylar
Khristina
Ivonne
Dante
Donte
Dontae
Izaiah
Juliunna
Erique
Nicolas
Siarah
Kayliegh
Johnathan
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Been to one suicide funeral. My cousin’s husbad shot himself in the gut with a shotgun. Worst part was that I heard the phrase “his liver was dientigrated” over a hundred times.
The University of Georgia football team has a receiver named Rantavious Wooten. I get a chuckle out of that one.
Never caught with the goods, but I probably ruined my vision trying to watch “those” channels through the scramble on television.
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Reminds me of a joke:
Joker: “Did your mom ever catch you jacking off in the closet when you were young?”
Jokee: “No”
Joker: “Yeah; the roof was always a better place to hide, huh”
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I thought that Dick Trickle was the funniest name in the world
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I went to school with a guy named Justin Case.
My 12 year old boy’s name is Conrad. I call him Cornbread. He asked me just the other day what jizz was. I said “where the hell did you hear that?” He said it was on some song he was listening to that was part of the chorus. So I explained to him what some of the terms for male bodily fuids were.
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I worked for an attorney who had a side gig as the prosecutor for child support cases. One case had two children, twin boys named Oranegello and Lemongello. Yes, that’s orange jello and lemon jello but with the letters slurred just enough so it is only slightly less retarded.
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My GF and I overheard a woman in a restaurant call her daughter Placenta. We looked at each other doubting what we had heard and then heard it again. true story, no racism involved.
All goes back to the fact you should have to pass a test to reproduce…..
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Von Barron Isenogle, my wife showed me the guy in her HS year book. Pretty good name.
Went to school with brothers Anthony Lucaneous and Mathew Agustus. There was also Toast, Blunder, Remus, Walleye and Yard Ed but, I figure they wern’t using their real names.
Never got caught with porn, I could hide an elephant in a Volkswagon when I was a kid.
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I just saw the stupid athelete name of the week Fla St LB “Dakoda” Watson. If youre going to name your kid after a state at least spell the f%&king thing right.
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I see we’ve mostly moved on to names, but all the talk of death and funerals reminded me of two songs. I like them both very much although they express slightly different sentiments about death and growing old:
From 1965, our friends The Who…
People try to put us d-down (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Just because we get around (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
And, John and John (They Might Be Giants) replied in 1985…
Sometimes I feel like being wispy
And once in a while I feel like being dry
But we’re doomed and we’re drowned by this feeling we surround
So I hope that I get old before I die
Ohhhhh
It’s a long, long rope they use to hang you soon I hope
And I wonder why this hasn’t happened
Why why why
And I think about the dirt that I’ll be wearing for a shirt
And I hope that I get old before I die
I’m just sayin’ it might be nice to be forever 27
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/27_Club
…and it might be OK to live long enough to regret living so long.
But don’t plan a funeral: have a memorial service. And put the person you trust the most in your life in charge of running it (frequently, not your spouse, but that’s a discussion for another day). My plan calls for mostly music, including the two songs above.
If this isn’t what they mean by urging citizens to have an estate plan, then I probably don’t have one of those — the above IS an outline of my estate plan.
And NO men or women of god running the show.
Now there’s a post that ended in a different place than it started. I had no freakin’ idea we’d end up at my memorial service. But whenever it is, you’re invited: good music and piles of pork and beef ribs.
jtb (daytime version, but sunset’s comin’)
Now playing on the Sony Personal DiskMan:
“One Thousand Shadows” by Romeo Void
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RNK-I think you are pulling our legs?
Skipped the only suicide funeral I’ve had a chance to go to. A high school friend just out of college, just started working for IBM decided he would rather be dead than have anyone find out he was gay. I was pissed at him for offing himself so I went to my regularly scheduled apprenticeship training class instead of the wake. Never felt very good about it afterwards and struggled to ever look his mom and dad in the eyes after that. Jeezus wotta bummer.
A friend of mine wanted to name his first born Icabus because it would rhyme nicely with his last name. Wife put a big ixnay on that.
My porn, usually stolen from my older brother showed up missing from time to time, always assumed it was Mom who found it but thinking back my brother may have just stolen it back and found better hiding spots. Hmm.
Is there anyway to put spellcheck in this comment box. I think I spent five minutes proofreading and prolly still missed a couple.
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We had a vendor come in once to install a new computer system and his name was Get. His name freaked out everyone in that south, south GA redneck town as much as his long ponytail and earrings did.
I went to high school with a girl named Precious Lilly and ex-husband liked to tell the story that he went to school with a guy named Jerry Cherry – but everyone just called him Buster.
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Last name of a guy at work: Dikshit
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http://www.snopes.com/racial/language/names.asp
All of these mentioned are urban legend names.
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Worked for a German freight Company, one of our Directors was a Mr.Kuntz the first time I introduced myself he responded with a weary smile: It’s pronounced Koontz! Yeah Right!
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Baseball cap was probably covering up stuff the family didnt need to see! The priest must have been a liberal because there is no get out of hell card in that outfit! Thats why I joined the Salvation Army we don’t take prisoners!!!!! Semper Fi!!
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U2 have a great song called ‘Stuck in a Moment’ which reminds me of a few guys I knew who have killed themselves.
I don’t know about hell and brimstone and all that, but I hope that the ‘big man’ up there gives them a slap round the head with a wet fish for being so daft!
For strange/ stoopid names, Kal el Cage takes the cake for me! – oh Nicholas, what were you thinking?
I pleaded with my wife to give my son ‘danger’ as a middle name. Needless to say …..
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Just late signing in, will have to go back to read other’s notes and come back.
Great questions today Jeff.
Attended a friends suicide funeral at age 22. She pulled herself away from everyone while she was dating a complete Fhead. Apparently she had her thinking she was fat (mmmm… Last I had seen her maybe 5’9 & 115 lbs). She had a baby from a different relationship too. Took drugs and called a nurse friend telling her she made a mistake, they got her to the hospital but her body was to weak to overcome it. Fhead showed his ugly head at the funeral. So terrible for everyone.
Funniest name I ever heard. I was on the bus and a family of maybe less fortunates kids were talking. One of them told the other that he thought he knew his brother ‘Dang’. I almost fell off my seat.
On porn – was at Pikes market in Seattle last year, in an antique store they had playboys going back to the late 1960′s so amusing!!! .
‘Brown nosing in the afterlife’, If that’s the case I’m glad I don’t think I’m getting one.
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My dad subscribed to Penthouse ever since I could remember. He used to “hide” them in the bathroom on the top shelf of the linen closet under a pile of towels. I believe I found them at about 6 years old, so all my buddies got educated also.
Being raised Roman Catholic, I think that priest is a dick. Priests are supposed to be supportive, someone to make you feel good about yourself, someone to tell you that you are a good person and help you improve your weaknesses. Judging someone or throwing out a slanderous comment is most definitely poor taste. Furthermore, I would have cornered that priest after the funeral one on one and jumped his ass harshly.
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The most recent “suicide funeral” I attended was of SPC Jacob Clements. He was my roommate, buddy, and the best fucking gunner I have ever had while we were in Iraq. Three months after we got back, he shot himself in the head. We made it through the shit, but he couldn’t handle coming back to what some would call “real life”. There may even be a picture of him on the smoking fish pics I sent from Baghdad. RIP Big guy.
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No funny funeral stories – sorry!
However, I did go to high school with a guy named Dickson Hand. Imagine having that name around a buncha teen Beavis & Buttheads…
I work at a place where lots of middle aged ladies into yoga are renaming themselves exotic-sounding sanskrit “spiritual” names. I recently got an email informing everyone that Sally so-and-so is now to be known by her new spiritual name. Puh-leeze, you’re still just Sally to me!
Growing up, the dad across the street from me, who we all swore was gay, had a massive backlog of old Playboy magazines. They were piled in his closet and arranged by year in the basement where we played. Heh heh – for some reason they trusted us to innocently ignore the mags, but of course we didn’t. I’m sure he just had them for the sports articles…
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That priest needs to be taken out back and have his teeth pulled out with a pair of vice grips. I don’t care what the metaphysics of your little cult dictates, you don’t need to use the occasion of a funeral, with the children present no less, to announce that the guy is in hell. This is doubly worse coming from a member of the Catholic clergy, an organization that has spent much of the last century (at least) aiding, abetting, and in many cases actively participating in the rape, torture, and systematic abuse of children. I might be being a tad unfair but I think that if you represent an organization that has essentially endorsed pedophilia you really don’t have much moral authority to question the behaviour of others.
A similar thing happened at my grandmother’s funeral 20 years ago. The minister spent much of the eulogy bemoaning the evils of homosexuality. While he is welcome to spew whatever bizarre theories wander into his head from the pulpit on Sundays, I hardly think the funeral of and 86 year old heterosexual grandmother is the time or the place. I told him so afterward right before I suggested he copulate his immediate female predecessor.
Playboy under the mattress? Seriously? Sounds like he’s leaving them there to distract mom from what he’s really into. Check his browser history and I’ll bet you find links to German fisting videos and Tijuana donkey shows.
I hid my porn in plain sight on the bookshelf in my room. Mom would look in all the usual places (mattress, bedside table, top shelf in closet), but it never occurred to her to just lift up that copy of NME and find the stack of porn underneath.
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I went to school with a guy named Sherwood Forrest. Seriously.
No funny funeral stories – after the first one (my grandfather – who I loved dearly) I swore off of them. they’re for the living, not the dead and I’d rather remember the person as they were in life. I’ll never be able to get the sight of my grandfather in the casket out of my head when I think about him. Never.
Happy Tuesday, Surfers!
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The Further Evidence link today!
hahahahahah I was promised flashbacks but I never had ONE. I feel cheated.
My favorite line is when he says “LSD is the BOMB!:
hahahahahahahahahaha aahhhhhhhhhhh love it.
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That priest was a complete, utter jackass to say something like that. Just another reason to stay away from organized religion.
Shit, I’ve known a lot of people that have killed themselves, possibly more than the average person but then again I run in strange circles…most of the time I’ve sat out the actual funerals and opted to hoist a dozen beers in their memory. I did go to a memorial service for an ex-boss of mine who shot himself the weekend before Thanksgiving last year. His wife had left him and took everything in the divorce. The service was pretty goddamned depressing; one of his co-workers got up and talked and said something along the lines of “let’s face it, XXX wasn’t himself for the past year and there was really nothing we could do about it.” Kind of a weird thing to say so soon after the fact, almost as if he was better off dead.
When I shuffle off the mortal coil I’m getting cremated, no funeral showing, no embalming. Straight into the goddamned furnace. I just hope my friends throw a hell of a party and play some damned good music. And there won’t be any asshole priest present to say that I lived my life wrong or was going to hell.
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Tyrosine: Nice rant — rational, reasonable, cogent and dead-on. Thanks.
Knucklehead: Avoid open-casket funerals; avoid closed-casket funerals. Stick to memorials and wakes, and share your memories of your loved one as he/she was. Besides, sometimes there’s a bar.
Don’t know which of us took the more psychodelics, but I still haven’t seen my Grandmother crawling up my leg with a knife in her teeth (see also, Dr. Hunter Thompson), nor anything I could classify as a flashback. Nearest I get is at the dentist’s office where I talk them into turning the nitrous oxide 5 clicks above the legal limit (legal limit is 50/50 N2O/O2) but if you gasp you can manage 55/45. Yeah, I have a cool dentist. It’s not like acid or mesc or peyote or opium or mushrooms, but there is a certain mindfuck that takes me back to the day. Ah, the day.
jtb
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For the lord’s sake, give your offspring a freakin’ normal name. While the Bard had it right:
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”
Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)
…I wonder if the common name for Rosaceae Rosa had been shitmuffins or beaverpuke we’d still be enamored of the flower and its smell. I suppose so, because the Bard is almost always right. In any case, I’m saving Beaverpuke as the name for the next Priest who tells the family of a deceased gay friend of mine (a few of them will most likely die before me) that he went to hell.
“Hey, Lord Beaverpuke; don’t look now but you’re headed downtown for diddling altar boys. My friend is in heaven because he lived a decent life. Say hi to the popes and Jimmy Hoffa for me.”
I might be getting wound up. Better exit before I violate the guideline against discusing religion.
my best as always…jtb
Now playing on the Sony Discman: “Chelsea Hotel #2 by Leonard Cohen
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Friend of a friend knew a family with 3 girls named Cotton, Paisley, and Denim ….
Check out the poor kids’ names at the end of this article …
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1230142/Pregnant-mother-13-says-I-having-babies-I-twins.html
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Playboy: I agree with the “Cindy is making a cover story” conspiracy. Otherwise, let ‘em have it with ONE caveat… make sure they know that not every woman looks or behaves like this; that it’s all done with smoke and mirrors.
Names: actual hospital patient Ima Fruit. I printed labels for a women’s club at work once, and recognized some of the names. Then saw one that I’ll never forget. Feej Flamepooper. I thought I was going to need an ambulance after I saw that one.
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That priest at the funeral was a complete and utter ass-clown.I went to Catholic grade school and the priests and nuns were always making up wacky-assed shit.
I had a nun in second grade tell the class,”Unless you are Catholic, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.” She felt pretty comfortable saying this as back in the day ( where I grew up) Catholics always married Catholics. Except for my parents!
I raised me hand and said, “My dad is Protestant, what will happen to him?” The nun was stunned and fumbled about trying to come up with some sort of explanation. “Ummm…your father will be in Purgatory, which is not a bad place, but one where the soul is not in the direct presence of God.”
Thus began my problems with the Catholic church.
On a porn/Catholic school related note… we had a gas station that butted up against our playground/parking lot. One day at recess, we noticed some piles of magazines set out behind the station on trash day. Upon further investigation, we found a treasure trove of porn! Guys were ripping out pages and stuffing them down their pants. A couple more brazen students ran around the playground holding open centerfolds above their heads.
The real hilarity ensued when the nuns caught wind of this and started chasing boys around the playground and confiscating the offending material. It was a regular Hawaii 5-0 crackdown.
Good times…
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Strangest name I ever heard….actually more funny than strange.
Phoebe P. Peabody-Beebe
Say that 3 times fast. Funny shit. It’s somebody my sister in law worked with.
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Met a girl named Usa. Guess her parents thought they were being patriotic.
And, JUANCHO, you sound Mexican. Ha-Ha-Ha. Does that make me a racist? I’ll cop to prejudice. Everybody is to some degree. But racist, I don’t think so. You might want to take the test.
Some of the names I hear & have heard no doubt led to job applicatins being stashed in file 13.
Might want to go with something a little more main stream or be satisfied with being up some other creek. And what’s with outragougs tattoos, pierced everything and hair from another planet. Why can’t I get a job??
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I worked at a local University for a few years right out of college in the Admissions office. One girl who applied was “Spring Star Pillow”. I never got the chance to meet her, but I’m assuming mom and dad were hippies. There was also “Ima Goodwin”, which made me laugh just thinking about it.
Regarding the suicide funeral, I went to one about 10 years ago. I’m not catholic, so I don’t believe in the whole you have to stay here for a bit then you can go somewhere else. I was always raised that if you’re good you go to Heaven, and if not, you go to Hell. Anyway, this priest also talked about the suicide and we had to pray over and over for him to be entered into Heaven. When I asked what was going on, they told me they were “praying him into Heaven”.
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I have a Swedish cousin named Anal Sphincterson. He’s ok but he’s kind of an asshole.
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Jeff:
Please, I beg of you; send an update. I can’t take any more urban legend names. The suicide funeral stuff is OK and, for some at this site, offers a forum for venting and tossing off baggage. I’m all for that.
And the soft-core porn stuff is fine and fun.
But the names…please post so we can reset.
In memory of Phil Ochs and all the rest, let’s move on.
Now playing on the Sony Discman: “11:59″ by Blondie
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In the words of “The Beastie Boys” Mom threw away my best porno mag!
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My mother has worked in the public school system here in So. Cal for over 25 years, so we’ve heard our share of names.
One girl’s last name was Land. So, naturally, her mother named her Candy. Candy Land. Heh.
Another kid’s last name was Eight. As in the number. Of course, the only appropriate first and middle name for this would Six Seven. Yes, a child is roaming the streets with the name Six Seven Eight.
Lastly, a poor Thai child in her school had the name Porn Phuq. The ‘Phuq’ is pronounced ‘Fuck’. So, this poor kid has the unfortunate name Porn Phuq. I wonder how many inappropriate jokes he’s heard.
I was never caught with porn. The kid, I mean. No, I really was never caught with any porn. Instead, my mother had the unfortunate luck of walking in on me banging my teenaged boyfriend when I was a mere 15 or 16. Yes, I was a bit of a sexual rebel in high school. Now (15 years later), she looks back at it all and chuckles, although talking too much about it makes her want to commit double homicide still….
Now Playing on iPhone: ‘The Cold Dish’ audiobook by Craig Johnson
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Bob Loblaw – fictional, from Arrested Development
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Fortunately, I’ve only had a couple of friends off themselves, and have been to only one suicide funeral. I felt like a complete douche, because all I could think of was that the fiancee was probably the cause, and how much I hated her for it. She was almost visibly enjoying all the attention & such she was getting. It turned my stomach. And, yeah, that priest needs his ass handed to him. Save that shit for a Sunday sermon; not the suicide’s funeral.
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@Tammie I neeveer kneew that youuuu would maaake fuun of myy naaaame! Joost becauuuse wee speeek like daaat doeeeesnt meeen sweeeeedish peeeeeple are stuuuuuupid!
love anal
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I worked with a man many years ago. His parents named him in an era when I guess you didn’t look for hidden meanings or juvenile sexual associations to words and names. His last name was Dover. First name: Benjamin.
Another guy I knew was a DJ at night & weekends for extra money. Drove around in a van full of records and stereo gear to birthdays, etc. His grandparents were the classic Slavic couple that had their last name shortened for them at the Ellis Island receiving center. You know, to make it easier for “real” Americans to pronounce it. Last name was Poproski, changed to Poprock. So, my friend Eddy Poprock is a DJ and constantly having to convince people “No, really, that’s my actual name. No, it’s not a stage name, let me tell you the story…….” He could’ve been a welder and it never would have come up.
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la-a is not an urban legend my son goes to college with a girl named La -(dash)a
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Famous pro basketball management failure Isiah Thomas wears his mother’s illiteracy on his sleeve every day of his life. If his name is pronounced “Eye-Zay-uh” it should be spelled “Isaiah”. His stupid mother obviously couldn’t spell that, so he ended up with a name spelled such that it should be pronounced “Eye-ZIGH-uh”.
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The most ridiculous name? Sashay Latauche pronounced (sa-shae La-tosh)
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