Charles Entenmann: Drippy Cheesy Slushy Mushy

Charles Edward Entenmann, the baked goods snack-empire magnate who once confessed he “wasn’t a dessert guy,” is now “a dead guy.”

Charles Entenmann was the grandson of William Entenmann, an ambitious German immigrant who started his bakery in 1898 with the preposterous dream of using bundt cakes to invade neighboring countries and conquer the world with his superior frosting.

Under Charles’ leadership, the Entenmann brand became recognizable to grocery shoppers around the country for its signature white and blue boxes filled with the syrupy odor of a dying democracy drowning in a sea of sugar regrets.

To better assist assembly-line production, Charles pioneered the “easy-bake” methodology where cakes were cooked using a flickering 60-watt light bulb in the presence of a frustrated eight year-old girl. 

In 2010 the company introduced their line of Halloween cupcakes, frightening millions of children worldwide at the thought of ever having to eat one.

Today Entenmann’s is famous for its line of over 36 dessert products including donuts, loaf cakes, pies, Danish, muffins and cookies- all of which taste exactly the same. 

Their oldest product, the all-butter loaf cake, is the most popular. Probably because most peoples’ hearts explode before they have a chance to fill out the complaint form. 

As with any enterprise, not every Entenmann’s product was an instant hit with consumers and many had to be discontinued, including: 

Soft Fudge Iced Cupcakes With Sinew

Stringy Chocolate Hair-Clairs

Cheese-Filled Cheesy Cheese Fromage

German “Everyone Butter Run!” Rum Cake

Carrera Marble Chipped Tooth Loaf

New York Cheesecake With Rats

Blackout Drunk Bourbon Cake

Sour Cream Dead Grandma Raspberry Twist Muffins With Crunchy Fingerbits™

Grieving former employees remember Mr. Entenmann as a boss who always treated everyone with consideration and respect. “It didn’t matter if you were a janitor at the bakery or the drunk guy who’d break into the factory every weekend to lick the flat-beater and get a dough-hook stuck up his butt.”

The deceased requested his remains be crammed inside a garish white and blue coffin with a plastic see-through lid in order to entice mourners to sample his treats. 

Donald Rumsfeld: Language Expert, People Magazine’s 2002 “Sexiest Man Alive,” CNN’s “virtual rockstar”

Donald Rumsfeld, who famously claimed killing Saddam Hussein created “a more stable world,” is now decaying into 32 grams of nitrogen and 4 grams of potassium for every kilogram of dry body mass. At the height of his illness, the former defense secretary reportedly became shocked and awed over the known knowns and known unknowns attacking his adult diaper. 

Doctors listed the official cause of death as chronic “enhanced dying.” 

Echoing his earlier explanation for what happened at Abu Ghraib, Rumsfeld blamed his demise on “a small group of white blood cells who ran amok in the absence of adequate supervision by red blood cells.” 

On July 9, 1932, Donald Henry Rumsfeld was born in Evanston, Ill. to George and Jeanette Rumsfeld, who reportedly never had to strip nude at gunpoint and lie on top of other nude people.

Five years later the family moved to nearby Winnetka, where Donald and his sister attended both private and public schools. Teachers remembered them as polite and well-mannered kids who were never suspended nude from their dislocated shoulders, shocked by electrical wires attached to their genitals, or even raped with phosphorescent tubes while horrible music was playing.

An excellent student, Rumsfeld majored in political science and graduated from Princeton in 1954. That year he married his high school sweetheart, Joyce Pierson. Who as far as anyone can tell was never blindfolded and tied up and gagged while someone poured water down her throat.

In 2002, People Magazine included Rumsfeld in their annual “Sexiest Man Alive” issue. When asked why, the magazine said they were under the mistaken impression he’d fulfilled his dream of making everyone else dead.

On his deathbed, the man responsible for running the biggest foreign policy disaster in American history confided his only regret in life was never getting to witness Paul Wolfowitz lick his comb again.

He leaves behind three children, seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. Who, according to sources, were never threatened by attack dogs or forced to eat food from a toilet.

Friends and loved ones say they’re consoled by the thought that the former Metamucil CEO is now making thousands of worms regular. 

The deceased requested his remains be shrink-wrapped into bundles and stuffed inside a duffle bag containing Dick Cheney’s first heart and given to Halliburton contractors in Iraq. 

Jonathan Bush: Failed Dancer, Worse Banker

Jonathan Bush, the only member of the Bush clan Democrats didn’t fully embrace because they couldn’t connect him to enough war crimes, is dead after spending a lifetime getting humiliated by his brother’s “David Cop-A-Feel” gag.  

His grief-stricken grandson, Billy Bush, announced the sad news after taking time off from immersing a palette full of Access Hollywood tapes into a large vat of Barbara Bush’s stomach acid.  

According to a spokesman for the Barbara Bush Foundation- not “foundation” as in “organization” or “group,” but “foundation” as in “three inches of makeup,” Bush died at his Florida estate of a congested wallet while trying to grope a sea manatee.

Following family tradition, Jonathan spent his formative years in Connecticut, graduating from Yale after flunking every class.

After serving two years in the Army believing everything he was told, Bush spent the next four and a half years as a singer and dancer, appearing in five versions of “Oklahoma!” All of them “Bad!”

Even though he never ran for political office, Bush helped raise a lot of money for the Republican Party -mostly by promising never to sing or dance again. 

True to his family name, Jonathan was no slacker when it came to helping drive the country into the toilet. And to do his part he spent most of his career as a fund manager.

The deceased requested his body be buried just out of reach of his older brother’s dead fingers. 

George H. W. Bush: Yale Cheerleader, Disappointed Father, Spook

“I will never apologize for the United States — I don’t care what the facts are.”

George H. W. Bush, a man so dishonest and racist he even offended Roger Stone, is now spending the afterlife in a Bosch painting performing a ventriloquist act with Augusto Pinochet’s crow-emitting anus. 

The attending physician pronounced Mr. Bush dead after examining his body for a thousand points of rigor mortis.

Those at the scene recalled the former president’s final words as, ”Read my lips: no CPR.”

Totally bereft, son Jeb refused to accept the physician’s decision until he forced a feeding tube down his father’s throat.

Bush’s term as president was defined by his quick response to Saddam Hussein’s 1990 invasion of Kuwait when he assembled an impressive international coalition of 35 soldiers, two trucks and a rake.

In tribute to their father’s legacy, the Bush family requested Americans not remember any of the last 50 years.

To honor the deceased, President Trump called for a national day of mourning and closed Wall Street, a fitting tribute to the man whose son shut down the economy for 10 years.

Trump also decreed government agencies fly Old Glory at half-staff- as soon as he received a new shipment of flags from China. 

The 94 year-old Bush, who lived longer than any previous U.S. war criminal, is survived by his immediate loved-ones: a son named Marvin nobody talks about, MSNBC and CNN, FOX News, Oliver North, the Saudi royal family, and Ellen’s glass coffee table.

Bush requested his remains be grabbed by the ass after someone asks his corpse who his favorite magician is.

Oh, and Dan Quayle.

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He Never Met a War He Didn’t Like

McCain PalinJohn McCain, the man who came close to giving Sarah Palin the presidency with one defective beat of his freeze-dried heart, just left a big, steaming bag of dog crap on America’s doorstep in the form of Donald Trump and the Tea Party.

A family spokesman said the deceased died surrounded by loved ones, 8 to 11 houses, and over 228 million Americans who can’t afford a $1,000 emergency.

Responding to the news with the predictable, gushy, effusive, sap-laden horse shit, both sides of the aisle praised the 35 years of public-service McCain spent courageously receiving the kind of medical care he fought so hard to deprive millions of desperate Americans.

When reached for comment, a bug-eyed Steve Schmidt was still breathing through his mouth and dropping his “T”s while Rachel Maddow teared up, bit her bottom lip, and tapped her pen for schmaltzy emphasis.

Sources say family members are consoling themselves with the thought that “John is now up in heaven where he can comfortably watch American troops spend an eternity in Iraq.”

A warrior to the end, McCain recently found the strength to thrust a final dagger into the dying Democratic party by telling Joe Biden to “stay in politics.”

Never one to shy away from criticizing his own party when it could make him look good, the straight talker had this to say about the Trump presidency: “I’m concerned about the state of the country.” You’d really think a war vet who unleashed Sarah Palin on the world might be more adept at anticipating danger.

A maverick himself, President Trump decided to cancel the tradition of flying the White House flag at half-staff after someone told him it wasn’t a tribute to the dead possum on his head.

Throughout his career, many critics labelled McCain a racist for backing white supremacist George Wallace Jr, supporting flying the Confederate flag, voting six times against divesting from South Africa’s apartheid regime, and pushing to rescind Martin Luther King Day. But at least he had enough respect for Asians to capitalize the word “gook.”

In a final nod to his celebrated Naval career, McCain requested he be allowed to crash his funeral five times.

McCain’s love for the Navy was so intense, he even reenlisted during his 2008 presidential campaign to serve on the USS Swift Boat.

Reflecting from his deathbed, the senator confessed his biggest regret in life was never weighing in on why DJ Khaled refuses to eat pussy.

After voting for the president’s agenda 83 percent of the time, the deceased ordered in characteristic mavericky manner that President Trump not be allowed to attend his funeral. To which a weary country sighed, “Like the Bush family’s better?”

Memorial services for the deceased will be announced once the undertaker can build the danged coffin! 

At McCain’s request, the service will include a rendition of ’Danny Boy’ sung by opera singer Renee Fleming. This is to be followed by a short set from the remaining members of  “The Keating 5 Combo” with Sheldon Adelson taking Al Cranston’s place on drums, Hank Kissinger filling in for John Glenn on vibes, and Oleh Tyahnybok taking McCain’s place on percussion, hand claps and swastika. 

McCain’s remains will lie in state in the Arizona Capitol before flip-flopping to the U.S. Capitol Rotunda and triangulating into a hole at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis.

Plans for Sarah Palin to deliver the eulogy had to be canceled after a nationwide search failed to find a translator.

Partial List of Mavericky Pallbearers:
National Right to Life Committee
JPMorgan Chase & Co
Sheldon Adelson
Christian Coalition
Lockheed Martin
Goldman Sachs
General Electric
Bank of America
FedEx Corp
High-yield junk bonds


Barbara Bush: A Nation Mourns And Eats Its Lunch

BUSHMy fellow Americans: Major combat operations in Barbara Bush have ended.
In the Battle of Life, time and a beef-heavy diet have prevailed.

And now our coalition of Earth’s natural elements is engaged in securing and deconstructing her cell structure. The tyrant has fallen. And Kennebunkport, Maine, is now free from her brooding presence at Mabel’s Clam Shack.

As Jesus once said: “No one can escape the relentless grab-ass of death.” And so, Barbara (Pierce) Bush, a First Lady whose main claim to fame was allowing two war criminals in and out of her bat-filled sniz, is now playing host to more beneficial parasites.

Known for bravely facing her many illnesses, Mrs. Bush once remarked, ”I have no fear of death because I know there is a great god,” -a motto later adopted by ISIS.

Close friends eulogized her as a “national treasure whose glaring frown could really light up the room.”

Upon hearing the news, Barack Obama declared her ankles “Too Big to Fail” in between giving speeches to hedge fund managers. Then he remembered he wasn’t president anymore.

Miss Barbara Pierce first met George Herbert Walker Bush in college and soon after they married. She later said George was the first man she ever kissed without reading his lips about no new taxes.

In 1946 their union brought forth a healthy baby boy, George Jr., inspiring her immortal words: “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.”

But it wasn’t until she became First Lady that she took the world by storm with her Bess Truman charm and relentless grudge keeping.

Indeed, Mrs. Bush’s casual, down-to-earth manner soon earned her the label of “America’s grandmother” from those in the Bush administration. It’s not clear who they considered “America’s grandfather,” but I’m thinking maybe Joseph Goebbels.

Bereaved family members are consoling themselves with the thought that the deceased is now up in heaven getting confused for the Quaker Oats guy.

The deceased requested her remains be interred in the family fetus jar.


(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Robert Hulseman, Inventor of the Red Solo Cup


(animation by Martha Previte)

Robert Hulseman, Inventor of the now ubiquitous red beverage holder, is dead after drinking a 16-once cup of trucker urine he thought was last night’s beer. He is survived by daughters Patricia and Margaret, who both happen to be D-cups.

Hulseman was born in 1932 in Chicago and as a teenager contracted polio. The experience affected him so profoundly he made a pledge that if he ever recovered, he’d create a red plastic cup.

Introduced in the mid-1970s, the Solo Cup quickly became the receptacle of choice for growing pot seedlings and getting teenagers drunk enough to put their penises inside apples pies, something the devout Christian was probably thrilled about.

Over the the years, the inventor was known for his generosity and devotion to the Catholic church. Translation: he gave them a bunch of fucking cups.

In 2005, the New York Museum of Modern Art added a Solo Cup Traveler’s Lid to its permanent collection, mostly out of concern that modern art didn’t already have a bad enough reputation.

And in 2011 his red cup was immortalized in a Toby Keith song. Which I have no jokes about because I refuse to listen to it.

Hulseman was preceded in death by his devoted wife Sheila, whose coffin lid was designed to accommodate extra foam and reduce dribbling at the rim.

The deceased requested his ashes be left on top of his neighbor’s cinderblock fence in an easily stackable container shared with laundry change and Margot Kidder’s toenail clippings.


(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Robert Ettinger, “the father of cryonics”

ettingerRobert Ettinger, the cryonics pioneer who advocated freezing the dead with the hope that medical technology would someday enable them to pay taxes again, is dead at the age of 92 after attempting to defrost an erection he had back in the ’60s.

Ettinger first came up with the idea for cryonics in World War II during the Battle of the Bulge when he saw a bunch of frozen bodies and thought, “I can make money off of that, sure.”


(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Ettinger founded his Cryonics Institute back in 1976 during the height of disco, a time when anyone would have been justified freezing half the music industry just to make them shut the fuck up.

For its services, the Cryonics Institute charges customers $28,000. But if you bring your own tin foil, “5 bucks.”

The first person Ettinger deposited at the Institute was his mother, Rhea. This was followed by ten years of Ettinger depositing her Social Security checks.

He also froze the bodies of his two wives, Mae and Elaine. They’re stored next to a sign reading, “WARNING – Do Not Open.”

Ettinger’s last wishes were to someday be brought back to life as a 92 year-old man with a lot of really serious health problems.


(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Nancy Reagan, 40th President of the United States

nancyNancy Reagan, the controlling, pill-popping child-beating matriarch of a sick, fucked-up family who regularly stole Valium and diuretics from each other; and proud wife to a president who once declared ketchup a vegetable before ultimately becoming one, is now dead of complications resulting from a “ruptured Gipper.” Or in medical terms: congestive heartless failure.


(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

According to witnesses, moments after she fell ill Nancy uttered her last words: “Fire the fucking astrologer.”

Though death was officially declared on March 6th, doctors say her soul probably “just said no” to life the second she decided to go into acting.

When reached for comment, friend Tom Brokaw ignored most of the facts and said something insultingly stupid.

Reagan redefined the role of First Lady, taking on such important responsibilities as ignoring AIDS, hoarding flower vases and criminalizing entire neighborhoods of black people.

But perhaps her greatest challenge came the day Ronald Reagan was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. For now at long last, she finally had the complete control needed to exact obsessive revenge fantasies upon her empty, flesh-robot husband as partial payback for all those years her stepdad withheld the love she was never emotionally equipped to receive to begin with. But, she was a snazzy dresser!

After her husband’s death, Nancy took on the role of vigilant caretaker for his legacy at the Reagan Library, where she could often seen dusting off “the book.”

Family members can console themselves with the thought that Nancy’s now up in heaven, still refusing to help Rock Hudson get treatment.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Jan Crouch, Professional Money Raiser

crouchJan Crouch, who 43 years ago co-founded the world’s largest Christian television network with nothing more than a pocket full of hope, hair resembling the helmet Rick Moranis wore is Spaceballs, and $30,000 in fraudulently secured donations, is now crouching sideways six-feet under a praying mantis.

Crouch reportedly died of a stroke. When reached for comment a spokesman for the network refused to return a phone call because there wasn’t any money involved.

Jan Bethany first met Paul Crouch, her future husband, in the mid 1950s. An occurrence many atheists cite as the only real proof Satan exists.

After struggling in ministries in South Dakota and Michigan, the couple decided to move to Los Angeles in the early 1960s after a source tipped them off that Jed Clampett might be a good mark.

As the years passed, it was clear their union was a Christian match made in heaven: a minister’s daughter, whose dogs live in a $100,000 motor home, married to a pastor who’s fucking the male employees.

The Crouch Trinity Broadcasting Network was touch and go at first. But by the late 1980s their telethons raised more money than Jerry Lewis’ muscular dystrophy telethons, mainly because the couple looked like they needed more medical help.

Crouch’s last request was that her network continue stealing from low-income Americans.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Phyllis Schlafly, Proud Goldwater Girl

schlafly_imgPhyllis Schlafly, the conservative icon who proved by example that women can be huge assholes too, is now dead after doing all the damage she could possibly do in 92 years.

A champion of traditional, stay-at-home roles for women, Schlafly ran for public office twice, wrote 27 books, and never stayed at home. Plus, her son’s gay.

Schlafly once declared that married women “can’t get raped” because by marrying, a woman has consented to sex. And by marrying Bill Cosby, a woman has also consented to a lifetime of wondering what the hell is in her drink.

At the age of 24, the struggling librarian “consented to sex” with a man from a wealthy banking family, allowing her to take on the traditional role of a hypocrite marrying for money.

Schlafly opposed the ERA movement because she believed it would only be a matter of time until Americans started demanding co-ed bathrooms, reproductive rights and gay marriage. Oh my god, she was right!

A vocal Trump supporter, Schlafly said she didn’t think a female should be president because, quote, “Our greatest presidents have all been men.” Which pretty much is the same as saying, “Our greatest men have all been men.”

But in the end, Schlafly’s most cogent and valid argument against giving women equal rights was her very existence. And so she died.

Mrs. Schlafly is survived by six children. So I guess she really loved a “deep consenting.” Plus, her son’s gay.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Future Obituary – Ted Cruz, Canadian Sausage, Pitchman For Snot

CRUZTed Cruz, the passionate and effective fighter for ineffective government, medieval economic theory and the Constitution as defined by Nazis, is dead after forty-five years of poorly imitating human life.

His daughter reportedly found the Republican presidential candidate in their home, drowning in a bathtub filled with his own cooties.

Paramedics tried frantically to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but the oxygen refused to go in on account of it being, quote, “too creeped out.”

Cruz’s mom is of Irish descent and his father is Cuban, so every Saint Patrick’s Day he gets drunk and trims his wife’s bush.

In 1974 when Ted was just five years-old his father abandoned the family and moved to Texas. Yes, it was THAT bad.

Cruz often told the story of how his father escaped Cuba with only $100 in his underwear. As Senator he took inspiration from that story to shut down the government and nearly flush the economy down the toilet.

In 1995, Ted Cruz graduated from Harvard Law School, answering the age-old question: “What could make people hate lawyers even more?”

As Senator from Texas, Cruz’s greatest achievement was uniting both sides of the aisle in their universal disrespect for Canada.

The deceased requested that the stick up his ass be used to plant his body outside Planned Parenthood in order to act as a deterrent to sex.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Future Obituary: Roger Ailes, Sexual Consultant

Roger-AilesRoger Ailes, the half-sentient fat-pyramid whose fetish for garter belts, locked office doors, and exposing “red, raw hamburger meat” to horrified employees lead to a rewarding $40 million golden parachute as head of FOX News, is dead of shame after learning Steve Doocy got to feel up Megyn Kelly without his permission.

Born in the cretaceous era, Roger Ailes grew up in the small factory town of Warren, Ohio, where the ambitious youth hoped to one day follow in the footsteps of his abusive father.

As a boy he was often hospitalized for what doctors first thought was hemophilia. They later determined the real cause was that his blood was just too creeped out to stay inside him.

Ailes is credited with the “Orchestra Pit Theory” of sensationalist television which he summed up as quote, “You have two guys on a stage and one guy says, ‘I have a solution to the Middle East problem,’ and the other guy falls in the orchestra pit. Who do you think is going to be on the evening news? And who do you think will get to extort blowjobs and rape underage models?”

Ailes’ resignation at FOX came within days of Debbie Wasserman Schultz stepping down as DNC chairwoman, which begs the question: “Have you ever seen these two together?”

Early this month, former Fox & Friends star, Gretchen Carlson, filed a harassment suit against Ailes charging him with fostering an atmosphere that made Carlson a “blond female prop.” The charge was particularly damning until somebody found the phrase “blond female prop” in the “goals” section of her LinkedIn page.

In response, Ailes called Carlson’s suit, “retaliatory for the network’s decision not to renew her contract after she refused to fuck me and anyone I told her to fuck.”

Ailes wasn’t just a powerhouse media consultant and television executive. He also had a sensitive side and liked to experiment with poetry. One favorite was this gem he’d regularly recite to the delight of new interns:

“You know if you want to play with the big boys,

You have to lay with the big boys.” (mic drop)

Dedicated to his beloved business until he very end, Ailes’ last words of wisdom were reserved for his nurse:

“If you want to make it in the TV business, you’re going to have to fuck me. And you’re going to have to fuck anyone I tell you to fuck. Now fetch my diaper.”

Burial arrangements haven’t been made yet because Ailes had to fire his undertaker for refusing to fuck his dead body.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Antonin Scalia: The Poor Man’s Robert Bork

Antonin ScaliaAntonin Scalia, the jolly, bushy eye-browed Santa-sized racist misogynist homophobe fake-intellectual Supreme Court Justice who regularly pled “no contest” to free meals, is dead after 79 years of staining his robes.

Cause of death was undetermined, but the legal consensus is the universe had “just cause” to terminate his life.

Scalia died at a west Texas hunting ranch run by members of the International Order of St. Hubert, Patron saint of hunters, of whom Scalia was the most prominent member who could no longer find his member.

St. Hubert’s martyrdom is a particularly inspiring tale of struggle and faith. After his tormentors stuffed him with a devilishly mouthwatering selection of Pork Loin in a bed of Guava and Plum Sauce followed by Almond Mole Chicken, Viceroy’s Cake and a delicious homemade ice cream, Hubert barely had the strength to cross the spacious veranda and make it back to his complementary luxury quarters where he quickly fell onto a plush pillow-topped bed and succumbed to the demonic enticement of a gentle sleep.

St. Hubert is also the patron saint of metal workers and smelters. And right now Scalia isn’t smelting very good.

Those at the ranch remembered Scalia as a stalwart defender of their Texas way of life, as well as the guy who always rushed the buffet and hogged the toilet.

Responding quickly to the news, President Obama ordered all flags to be flown at “half caring.”

The president went on to reassure an alarmed nation that “now all we have to do is wait for half of Congress to drop dead.”

Those who knew him say Scalia was a man of varied tastes, with a fondness for poker, opera, and forcing poison through the veins of innocent people on death row.

The centerpiece of Scalia’s judicial philosophy was his commitment to the doctrine of originalism, which sought to interpret the Constitution as it was understood at a time when women were considered less important than goats.

Funeral services for his body included a ten-hour repose in the Supreme Court building not far from where Clarence Thomas has been sleeping for the last twenty-six years.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Lavoy Finicum – Oregon Militia Spokesman, Mormon Recruiter, Incompetent Cowboy

LaVoyLaVoy Finicum, who once said he had no intention of spending any of his “days in a concrete box,” is now spending eternity in a pine one.

Police detained Finicum outside the Malheur Wildlife Refuge in what started off as a routine traffic stop for disposing of dildos without a permit.

Witnesses say Finicum then angrily rushed cops with his gun after they promised to reunite him with his wife and eleven foster children.

Cops reportedly shot Finicum with two 45 caliber bullets from their service revolvers, yet another government service he’ll never pay for.

When he heard the news, fellow protestor Ryan Bundy issued the statement, “My thoughts and prayers go out to every halfwit in America.”

Finicum became the group’s de facto spiritual leader when he first arrived at the protest and vowed to “leave a trench full of human feces in every wildlife refuge in America.”

Though the occupation is over, officials warn the refuge still has to remain closed for several months out of concern many of the buildings may be “poopy trapped.”

The deceased requested his remains be buried in blue tarp and surrounded by a choice selection of Ryan Bundy’s sinkers and floaters.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Dr. Wayne Dyer, Former Catholic School Driver’s-Ed Instructor

Dr. Wayne Dyer, internationally renowned motivational guru and one of the bestselling authors of all time, died Saturday after 75 tedious years of enduring his own bullshit.

The cause of death was not immediately disclosed, although it probably had something to do with the universe finally mastering the art of manifesting its incredible force by killing somebody.

When reached for comment, friend Tony Robbins said his death was, “But a transition: from the living, to the mystical realm of probate and estate division.”

The author, whose title of “Doctor” held less validity than the title of “Skipper” did on Gilligan’s Island, was found “dead not dying with the music still in him.”

Last year, Mind Body Spirit magazine ranked Dyer as the eighth most spiritually influential person in the world after Mickey Mouse and Hitler.

A posting by Dyer’s family on his Facebook page read: “Wayne believed there was a spiritual answer to every problem. Except parking. Please repost this seven times if you really care about recycling.”

Dyer’s most notable fans included Ellen DeGeneres and Oprah Winfrey, who embraced his idea that the power of positive thinking was the foundation for personal fulfillment. And when that doesn’t work, there’s always dog torture and chronic overeating.

Dyer requested his remains be buried where his three ex-wives can’t get at them.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Rudy R. Perz, Creator of The Pillsbury Doughboy

PillsburyAdvertising whiz Rudy R. Perz, creator of the iconic Pillsbury Doughboy, pinched his final loaf this week after failing frantically to pop a fresh breadstick.

Upon hearing the news, Liz Nordlie, President of Pillsbury, released a statement saying, “We paid that man off years ago. We owe him nothing.”

Under pressure to produce a mascot representing bleached flower, thiamin mononitrate sodium acid pyrophosphate aluminum and yeast, Perz created his first three-dimensional Doughboy doll of clay in 1965 at the cost of $16,000, or roughly what you’d pay a surgeon to remove half your large intestine.

The pudgy man of dough became such a hit, it was once cited by Brian Wilson as the main motivation behind releasing “Pet Sounds.”

To distinguish the Doughboy from the actual rolls of dough, Perz gave it a blush, a scarf, a chef’s hat, two big blue eyes and a warm chuckle. As for the penis, it gets amputated every time you slam the can against a kitchen table.

When the first doughboy was filmed using stop-motion, it came as a shock to many rural Pennsylvanians who assumed it was the ghost of Rick Santorum’s dead fetus.

His chuckle of “Hee hee!” when poked in the stomach became his trademark, after other catch phrases were rejected including, “No please no!” when someone bit off his head, and “What the, huh?” when repeatedly poked in the ass.

Perz requested his body be stuffed into a small, cardboard cylinder.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Darrell Winfield, Marlboro Man and Full-Flavored Smoke

Marlboro-5-124781Darrell Winfield, one of the most recognizable Marlboro Men, primarily because he was the only one who lived long enough to get recognized, is dead after a prolonged illness that probably started 50 years ago.

Although he lived to the relatively old age of 85, doctors still caution that had he not smoked, he could have made it to 300.

Asked what life might have been like if he hadn’t become the Marlboro Man, Winfield answered plainly: Life would have basically been the same. But without all that money and pussy. And all those cars and the four houses. And all that pussy.

Friends described him as a “man’s man,” who just liked working on his ranch every day, lighting cigarettes and crouching a lot. And then of course there was all that pussy.

Winfield was so authentic, he often provided the cattle and horses that appeared in the commercials. They all have lung cancer now.

Winfield requested his remains be lit on fire with a burning twig and marketed to children.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

Melvin Gordon, CEO Of Tootsie Roll

TootsieMelvin Gordon, chief executive of Tootsie Roll Industries, is dead after more than half a century spent desperately trying to pass a sticky, brown log that refused to melt even during the hot summer months.

Shocked family members say they discovered his iconic, oblong-shaped body stuck to a five year-old’s retainer.

The first Tootsie Roll was produced way back in 1896 by Brooklyn inventor Leo Hirschfield. Twenty-five years later he committed suicide by shooting himself in the stomach. That’s not a joke.

In 1988 Tootsie Roll became the world’s largest maker of lollipops, branching out with such popular candies as Sugar Daddy, Junior Mints, Dubble Bubble, Wack-o-Wax, Junior Daddy, Wack-o-Bubble, Dubble Mints Daddy Wax, Masonic Ditty-Dots, Razzles’ Chocolate-Covered Fur Nips, and Crunchy Caramel Dingle-Berry Daddy Dudds with Zinc.

The Tootsie Roll company now produces 64 million Tootsie Rolls a day. Experts calculate that if every Tootsie Roll ever produced were placed end-to-end, it would be the setup to a good joke.

Confectioners agree the most famous Tootsie Roll ad, “How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop?” may never be answered. But perhaps the most pertinent question facing science is why it always tastes like a cardboard anus.

The real answer to the lick question, the company writes on its website, “Depends on a variety of factors such as the size of your mouth, the amount of saliva, and how much of your pancreas is still working.”

Gordon asked that his body parts be individually wrapped and twisted at each end.


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

Future Obit – Camille Cosby: Lead Accountant at Cosby Enterprises Inc.

Bill Cosby Hosts Gala for 35th Anniversary of the Jackie Robinson FoundationCamille Cosby, one of the few select females ever allowed to naturally fall asleep around her husband, is dead after collapsing face-down in a bowl of pudding and drowning in a sea of JELL-O lies.

When reached for comment, her husband could only utter a half-hearted “Hey hey hey” followed by an equally tepid, “Greeza-maza hahahaha!”

Camille Olivia Hanks first met William Cosby in 1963 on a blind date. “Blind” because she blacked out after the first ten minutes.

The two married less than a year later. Back then it was a simpler time, she later recalled, when the only way you could drug a woman was to apply a homeopathic blister of cantharides and cataplasms to her feet, perhaps supplemented by wheat poultices upon the neck along with a hot tonic mixture of molasses, butter and vinegar, quickly followed up with a vinegar and sage tea for gargling, or more commonly, a tartar emetic.

Just like her husband’s first sitcom “The Bill Cosby Show,” their fifty-year marriage was unique among celebrity relationships as it did not use a laugh track. Although Vic Tayback did star as Calvin the mechanic.

The deceased leaves behind more than 20 assault victims “whom many in the media have given a pass” and weren’t properly “vetted.”


Future Obit – Dick Cheney: Avid Hunter, Fitness Freak, Monster

ChENEYRichard Bruce “Dick” Cheney, the only human capable of using another person’s heart without caring who it previously belonged to, has finally died after years of being dead.

The former Philip Morris spokesmodel, who only recently called the Senate report on Bush-era torture “a crock” and “hooey,” is now buried under “a rock” where gophers are finding him “chewy.”

Still grieving, his daughters refused to accept their father’s demise, and instead referred to it as “Enhanced death.”

As a youth growing up in Wyoming, the plucky Cheney quickly showed his mettle by earning five military deferments and two DWIs.

He subsequently flunked out of Yale twice, inspiring his later Congressional vote against the creation of the U.S. Department of Education.

In 2011, Cheney published his biography “In My Time: A Personal and Political Memoir,” in which he described himself as “the most powerful President in American History.”

Over the years he had five heart attacks, at least seven cardiovascular procedures and bypasses involving stents, grafting and implants, and at one point, was outfitted with an artificial blood pump leaving him without a pulse for a year and a half – but still, he never got a dinner.

The deceased requested his remains be buried next to proof of Saddam Hussein’s WMDs so nobody can ever find them.


S. Truett Cathy, Founder of Chick-fil-A

Chic fil a SMALL

Mourning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2014

S. Truett Cathy, the Southern entrepreneur who in one lifetime transformed a small, hometown business into a global symbol of homophobia and cancerous lab rats, is now undergoing death conversion therapy.

Chick-fil-A announced Cathy’s demise but refused to disclose the exact cause explaining, “It would take too long to list all the ingredients.”

Truett Cathy is credited with inventing the first fast-food chicken sandwich. It may not sound like much, but it sure beats taking the rap for a series of mysterious smothering deaths in the early ‘50s.

In 1964, Cathy presented First Lady, Lady Bird Johnson, with a Chick-fil-A sandwich during her visit to Georgia. One year later 2,000 American soldiers died in Vietnam. Coincidence?

The devout Southern Baptist became famous for closing his stores on Sundays so employees could spend more time at home with their families, and in the process, learn to hate life.

The company’s official statement of corporate purpose says that the business exists, “To glorify God by being a faithful steward of all that is entrusted to us. And to make him really fat.”

Interesting Funtoid: The chain’s advertising slogan, “Eat mor chikin,” contains the deliberately misspelled words “more” and “chicken” so they can legally get around actually offering customers “more” “chicken.”

Cathy requested his body be breaded and de-boned, and his soft, white buns delicately buttered and garnished with nothing more than a couple of pickles.


Don Levine, Creator of G.I. Joe

don levine LARGE

Mourning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2014

Don Levine, the Hasbro toy executive credited with doing more to distort America’s concept of war than Bob Crane’s errant penis, is now being outflanked by an army of ants.

Levine’s body was found “four klicks out” in his older sister’s bedroom, his nails painted pink and his torso draped mockingly in a garish, pistachio green gown.

Born in 1928, the 86 year-old recently attributed his longevity to the fact that he never once set foot in a VA Hospital.

Levine first got the idea for the miniature figure while serving in the Korean War after he caught several Chinese soldiers hiding in his helmet.

G.I. Joe hit the shelves in time for the 1964 Christmas shopping season and soon millions of Americans were spending $4 apiece on the fake soldiers. No wait, that’s what they were spending on the real soldiers.

The doll boasted 21 moving parts, including a pair of flexible shoulders John McCain would one day come to envy.

But the Vietnam War raged on and interest in the dolls waned. And sadly, parents soon discovered that when they brought their G.I. Joes home, there were no parades.

As the public shied away from military-related toys, Hasbro countered with the popular “Upper GI Joe,” whose main talent was being able to avoid combat due to digestive problems.

Levine requested his body be laid to rest on a mattress of Kleenex tissues crammed inside an old shoebox.



Cal Worthington, Circus Performer


“It’s Cal Worthington and his burial spot!”

Cal Worthington, the legendary Ford dealer who once boasted he’d “eat a bug” if you bought a car, is now getting eaten by bugs after buying the farm.

Born in 1920, Worthington grew up in the stark poverty of the Oklahoma Dust Bowl with no one to confide in but his dog “Sand.”

Things got so bad during the Depression, the young Worthington had to quit school and help support his family by selling babies to hobos.

During World War II, he flew 29 missions over Germany in a 1941 B-17 Flying Fortress. You know, a lot of times Boeing would register and sell a B-17 and for some reason the deal wouldn’t go through and now they’re stuck with a used plane when it’s only got a few miles on it. Look at it check it, here’s a dandy little bomber that’ll sell for about half what it’s worth new. This is where your friends are.

After the war, Worthington built a cult following into the biggest used-car dealership west of the Mississippi with his weird collection of freaky circus animals posing as pets. But to anyone south of the Mason-Dixon line, it was just another Tuesday.

The cause of death has not yet been determined, though experts speculate he may have been suffering from feline AIDS.

His ad campaigns were so popular, the phrase “Go see Cal” became part of the vocabulary of every Southern Californian. And once they read the full lease agreement, so did the phrase “Go see a lawyer.”

By 1979, Worthington was worth hundreds of millions of dollars. It was at this point he decided to divorce his wife Barbara and trade her in for a newer model with bigger headlights.

You can find Cal Worthington’s memorial off the 405 Freeway at 2850 Bellflower Blvd. in Long Beach. All he asks is that you see his grave first. Come on down. It’s just a big ‘ol giant, friendly supermarket of death. He’s got acres and acres and acres of death. Casket’s open till midnight every night. See ya here!


Robert Ettinger, Cryonics Pioneer

Robert Ettinger

Robert Ettinger, the cryonics pioneer who advocated freezing the dead with the hope that medical technology would someday enable them to pay taxes again, is dead at the age of 92 after attempting to defrost an erection he had back in the ’60s.

Ettinger first came up with the idea for cryonics in World War II during the Battle of the Bulge when he saw a bunch of frozen bodies and thought, “I can make money off of that, sure.”

Ettinger founded his Cryonics Institute back in 1976 during the height of disco, a time when anyone would have been justified freezing half the music industry just to make them shut the fuck up.

For its services, the Cryonics Institute charges customers $28,000. But if you bring your own tin foil, “5 bucks.”

The first person Ettinger deposited at the Institute was his mother, Rhea. This was followed by ten years of Ettinger depositing her Social Security checks.

He also froze the bodies of his two wives, Mae and Elaine. They’re stored next to a sign reading, “WARNING – Do Not Open.”

Ettinger’s last wishes were to someday be brought back to life as a 92 year-old man with a lot of really serious health problems.

Buy “Mourning Remembrance,” the book, here! Cover art by Tony Millionaire! Copiously illustrated by Nathan Smith! Introduction by Marc Maron! Afterword by Rachel Maddow!

John Galardi, Founder of Der Wienerschnitzel

wienerschnitzel4John Galardi, beloved founder of the hotdog chain Der Wienerschnitzel, is now Der ceased.

Doctors say Galardi died from an incurable form of Der Pancreatic Cancer, but they can’t be sure until after the Krautopsy.

It was way back at the tender age of 23 that the ambitious Galardi looked at the glut of hamburger stands in his neighborhood and decided to carve out a niche with his “trademark wiener.”

In 1961, Galardi opened up his first restaurant with little more than a pocket full of gumption and the maximum percentage of FDA-allowed insect parts and rat snouts.

Over the years, the chain became famous for its advertising mascot, an animated hot dog who runs screaming from anyone asking to know his real ingredients.

Memorable ad campaigns included the slogans, “DER Fun Since ‘61,” “We’re DERlicious,” and the ill-conceived, “Our Bites Are Macht Fried.”

Wiener factoid: Did you know approximately 17 billion hot dogs are eaten in the United States every year? That’s about 75 for every man, woman and tumor.

Galardi requested his remains be ground into a spicy paste, packed into a tubular, transparent casing, and buried deep within his wife’s buns.

Dipping sauce joke.

David P. Reynolds, Metal Head Headed Metal Company

Reynolds for WEB

Mourning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2013

David Reynolds, the metal manufacturing executive who gave America aluminum foil, has finally wrapped up his life in a lead-lined coffin.

The 96 year-old was found suffocated inside a used Quaker Oats box after his son forgot to poke enough air holes in the foil cover.

Reynolds was cousin to tobacco king R.J. Reynolds, who sold the first aluminum filtered cigarette with the slogan, “Come To Where The Flavor Is. And Then Forget Where You Are Because Now You Have Alzheimer’s.”

An expert salesman, Reynolds liked to arrange public demonstrations to personally show customers how to preserve leftovers with his product, often enlisting the help of his wife to wrap his sausage.

A stern disciplinarian, Reynolds was known to keep employees in line by yelling, “Don’t forget who wears the foil hat at this company!”

Reynolds requested his remains be covered in order to prevent splatters, protect against over-browning, and help keep his body parts moist.

Huell Howser: He Went Avocado Picking With A Dog!

Mourning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2012

Mourning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2012

Huell Howser, the iconically jovial star of public television’s, “California’s Gold,” is now ironically under six feet of “California’s Dirt.”

When he first learned he had cancer, the folksy travel guide reportedly shoved a microphone in his doctor’s face and asked how much the MRI machine weighed.

Witnesses who found his body were heard to exclaim, “Oh my gosh!” and “Holy cow!”

Doctors refused to reveal any more details about his death other than to say “he probably won’t be getting amazed by anything anymore.”

Friends say Howser probably could have survived longer had he not taken so much time out from chemotherapy to do a month-long series on lint.

Family members are consoling themselves with the thought that Howser and his microphone are now up in heaven, interviewing – aw who am I foolin’? He’s lost forever in the dark void of nothingness we’re all doomed to inhabit once our bodies succumb to the inevitable ravages of mortality. He went avocado picking with a DOG!

Howser requested a portion of his ashes be dumped into the great system of California aqueducts so his remains can trace the route the water follows through the huge pipes, tunnels, canals and pumping plants, and along the way meet the men and women who are carrying on the proud tradition of bringing water to Southern California. He went avocado picking with a DOG!

General H. Norman Schwarzkopf, Oil Man

Mourning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2012

Mourning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2012

H. Norman Schwarzkopf, the general who became famous for restoring pride to Americans by reminding them what it was like to crush a nation armed with shitty weapons and even shittier troops, is dead of heart failure after a chunk of plaque failed to meet a U.N. deadline to leave his left ventricle.

The burly general had been living in Florida for several years in quiet retirement, aside from some embarrassing episodes when tourists mistook him for a manatee and tried to feed him cabbage.

When asked for his reaction, 88 year-old George H.W. Bush tried to pour a bowl of Jello into his bedpan.

Modest, but not known for his intellectual prowess, Schwarzkopf once said, “It doesn’t take a hero to order men into battle,” adding, “because a hero is a sandwich…Right?”

Once, when asked why his troops called him “Stormin’” Norman, he replied, “Because it rhymes with Norman. I dunno, get the fuck outta my face.” He was funny that way.

Schwarzkopf was treated for prostate cancer in 1993 and became a national spokesman for campaigns against the disease. Unfortunately, those campaigns usually involved massive aerial bombardment followed by a brutal, two-pronged commando assault thrusting deep up the patient’s ass.

Schwarzkopf requested his remaining life force be run out of Kuwait, boxed into a kill zone, and systematically incinerated on the Highway of Death – along with a busload of women and children.

Sam Porcello, Inventor of Oreo Cream Filling

Sam Porcello, chief scientist at Nabisco and the inventor of Oreo cream filling, is now being eaten by millions of diabetic ants.

Porcello’s body was found face down in a vat of milk, his Nutter covered with Butter and Doo all over his Dad. Plus, he had cancer.

No one can confirm the true origin of the word “Oreo,” but many believe it was derived from the sound people make when they find out they need dialysis. “Ohhr-eo!”

Porcello invented many Nabisco snack products, including SnackWells, which are currently in danger of contamination due to Fracking.

At the factory, Porcello was known as “Mr. Oreo.” But at home, he was still known as “Mr. Oreo.” There really wasn’t much to this guy.

In 2011, Nabisco tried selling Oreos to Poland, but it was too hard to ship them with the cream on the outside of the cookie.

Interesting fact: The moon is 238,855 miles away, right? Did you know if you stacked every Oreo ever made, one on top of the other, you’d first have to remove half of them from Elvis Presley’s impacted colon?

The deceased requested the top be carefully twisted off his coffin so that generations of children could gaze in wonder at his cream-filled kidneys.

Eugene Polley, Inventor of The Wireless TV Remote Control

Eugene Polley, inventor of the wireless television remote control, is no longer in control of anything.

Polley died in Downers Grove, Ill of natural causes, if such a thing was ever possible in Downers Grove.

Small and frail, the elderly Polley alarmed family members late Tuesday night after getting lost in the couch. Medical examiners were quick to note dog-chew marks on Polley’s torso and a sticky film of hummus or something all over his face.

Invented in 1955, Polley’s Flash-Matic remote worked like a flashlight and was shaped like a snub-nosed revolver, something many Americans would later shove in their mouths after watching eight hours of shitty westerns.

Sadly, the 96 year-old died before he had a chance to finish his most important invention: a remote control for his diaper.

Polley’s family expect him to be buried sometime next week. That is, if anybody can get off their fat ass and stop watching TV long enough to do something.

Polley requested four photoelectric cells be implanted in his scrotum so when Jesus returns to earth, the light from his vengeful sword will activate the small electric motor at the base of his penis and change his tombstone to the Dumont network.

Danny Evins, Founder of the Cracker Barrel Restaurant Chain

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2012

Danny Evins, founder of the Cracker Barrel restaurant, is now offering up his lowest priced meal to hungry travelers, this time in a pine box.

Evins named the Cracker Barrel after the practice of customers in Tennessee who gathered at country stores to gossip and play checkers on top of an empty barrel stuffed with dead civil rights workers.

After going public in 1981, the Cracker Barrel became a stock market darling with a certain investment sector. Unfortunately that sector dealt mainly with lap bands.

Year after year the restaurant won rave reviews in magazines like Nation’s Restaurant News and Destinations. And year after year people would not read magazines like Nation’s Restaurant News and Destinations.

In 1991 Evins ordered all his restaurants to fire employees “whose sexual preferences fail to demonstrate normal heterosexual values.” Ironically, the directive coincided with the introduction of his most popular southern confection to date, the “Lingam Pecan Log,” a fluffy, cherry-laced phallocentric nougat wrapped in fresh caramel and latex.

Evins’ last request was that his brain matter be inserted into old-fashioned glass jars and sold to hungry truck drivers up and down Interstate 40.

Kim Jong-il: Liz Taylor Fan, Billionaire Job-Creator

Korean leader Kim Jong-il, who for 17 agonizing years revealed to the world the true nature behind most foreign film buffs, is now wearing a brown jumpsuit of dirt.

Jong-il reportedly died of a heart attack on a train while traveling between two popular famine areas.

A recent psychological evaluation by researchers at the University of Colorado concluded that Kim Jong-il shared the same personality disorders as Hitler, Stalin, and most talk show hosts.

During his reign, Kim Jong-il ruled over his citizens with a doughy fist, and was often referred to as the “Supreme Leader,” “our Father,” “Generalissimo,” and his favorite, “Fard Farkle.”

As he was groomed for office in the early 1990s, radio broadcasts started referring to him as “Dear Father,” instead of “Dear Leader,” suggesting he was either getting a promotion, or the country just wanted to borrow money for a date.

After taking power in 1994, he continued his father’s brutal policies and devoted much of his country’s scarce resources to building the world’s fifth-largest bouffant.

He leaves behind his three sons, Hwhy Did-hee Tek So-long Tu-di?, Du Tell, and Wut Da-hey!


All Contents of This Site Copyright © 2010-Eternity by Jim Earl

(Please note: the freakin' book contains HUNDREDS of obits,
but obviously not some of the most recent ones published 
in this blog.)

Karl Slover, One of the Last Munchkins

Karl Slover, one of the last surviving munchkins from the film The Wizard of Oz, is now a friend of Dorothy’s undertaker.

Slover reportedly succumbed to a heart attack after he tripped on a bottle cap and fell into a cat bowl. The medical examiner listed the elderly Slover “dead at 93 -centimeters.”

When very young, he was diagnosed with pituitary dwarfism, meaning people were always going to ask him to explain Mickey Rooney.

In 1939, Slover was paid about $50 a week to act in The Wizard of Oz, or about “one quarter scale.”

Looking back, Slover always said it was important to live life to its half-fullest.

Never one to look down on an acting role, Slover once said, “There are no small parts, except on my body.”

Slover leaves behind a cigar box containing his bed.


From The Archives: Daniel Ruge, President Reagan’s White House Physician

Mourning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

Daniel Ruge, the man chosen to be Ronald Reagan’s White House physician during his first term as president, has died from a ruptured gipper.

Early in his career, Ruge practiced medicine with First Lady Nancy Reagan’s stepfather, who taught him the family secrets of pre-death facial embalming.

After the 1981 assassination attempt on Reagan, Ruge remained at Reagan’s side and nursed him back to health with the president’s favorite vegetable dish: Baked Catsup.

Ruge never stayed for the 2nd term. He was asked to leave in 1984 after he gave the president a battery of diagnostic tests which declared him brain dead.

Dr. Ruge requested his body be dug up every year, examined by doctors, and declared fit enough to serve public office.

From The Archives: Joseph L. Owades Inventor of Light Beer

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

Joseph L. Owades, the biochemist whose recipe for light beer achieved the impossible feat of making crappy beer even crappier, is now more stale than a Herman Cain pick-up line.

Fresh out of college, Owades got his first job researching for Fleischmann’s Yeast. Then he found out Fleischmann was one of his mom’s canasta friends and “Yeast” was another thing entirely.

In the 1950s he created the first “diet” beer by discovering an enzyme that destroys fat starches, and in the process, any reason for wanting to drink beer in the first place.

When Miller Brewing Co. bought his process they marketed the new beer with the familiar “tastes great, less filling” jingle, replacing the less successful “Hey! You gotta chug twice as much of this crap to get a buzz!” jingle.

Over the years Owades wrote over 40 research papers on beer, all of them supporting the same thesis that he’s okay to drive and nobody understands him.

Owades requested his body be brewed into a tasteless yellow liquid and poured directly into the toilet to save time.

William Irwin Wolff, M.D., Father of Modern Colonoscopy

William Irwin Wolff, M.D., originator of the modern colonoscopy procedure now practiced in well-ventilated clinics around the world, has finally seen the murky light at the end of the long, disgusting tunnel.

After graduating from New York University in 1936, Wolff spent years pioneering the field of colonic investigation. Then he became a doctor.

He was the first to develop a safe method for examining the full length of the colon without having to first unhook it from the family Slip N’ Slide.

As a result, the relatively unknown surgeon “exploded from behind” to become the “Number One” expert on where “Number Twos” come from.

A dedicated intestinal surgeon, Wolff was known for diving headfirst into each procedure, barely stopping even to catch a breath. Friends say there was no impediment that could keep him from getting his hands dirty.

As president of the New York Surgical Society, Wolff published more than 120 scientific papers. All of them double-ply.

Wolff was a gifted speaker, and his colonoscopy lectures would often leave the audience gripping their seats.

Wolff’s procedure inspired several technological advances, the most useful being a wire loop attached to the end of the endoscopic device that doctors now use to remove car keys.

Wollf’s last request was that his sons might continue his legacy taint-free.

Elwood Perry, Fishing Lure Inventor

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

Elwood Perry, who in 1946 invented the Spoonplug fishing lure loved by millions of fishing enthusiasts, is now chum.

The 90 year-old Perry reportedly died while testing his latest invention, the “toaster-oven lure.”

On July 24, 1954 before dozens of witnesses, Perry used his Spoonplug 30 times to land 30 bass, setting a new world record. Not for fishing, but for holding the attention of dozens of people while doing something that boring.

During his career, Perry discovered two profound truths about outdoor sporting:

One: Always drag a lure so it bounces off the bottom.

Two: Never, ever, ask Ned Beaty about that rape scene in “Deliverance.”

Perry requested his body be folded in two, impaled on a hook, and dragged along the bottom of a pond so fish could freely nibble on his jig wobbler.

Steve Jobs, “Dear Leader”

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

Steve Jobs, the computer pioneer who co-founded Apple and inspired people all over the world to think outside the box, is now stuck inside one.

Sources say just moments before his death, the ailing Jobs turned beige and dragged himself into the trash.

The news came as a shock to countless Apple fans, who still insist they’re not going to buy his death until a later version comes out.

Historians rate Jobs on a par with Thomas Edison. Mainly because they both loved to make silent movies of guys with big mustaches sneezing.

A true visionary, he was the first to see the real commercial potential behind the graphical user-interface. Especially when it was manufactured in Chinese sweat shops.

Among his many patents was the “Hockey-puck shaped mouse,” or as Chinese workers call it, “the only thing strong enough to snap my neck after securing the chord to an 8th floor railing so that I may leave this daily torture and finally taste the sweet relief that is death -mouse.”

Jobs recently fought hard for city planners to approve his new company headquarters built in the style of a spaceship. The hope was to attract non-union labor from Pluto who only eat discarded Zunes.

Jobs’ last wish was for Apple Police to search the surrounding neighborhood in order to find out which one of his employees accidentally took home his liver.

This obit was made on a Mac.

Arch West, Creator of Doritos

Arch West, who 50 years ago took a warehouse full of cornmeal, MSG, and pork excretions, and turned it into the world’s first edible Superfund site, is now covered with an orange, crusty-coating of crispy death.

Doctors say dying was the only natural thing he did his whole life.

A company spokesperson denied West died while testing his latest creation, “Double-Fisted Kettle Cooked Carburetor-Cleaner Flavored Chips With Tangy Asbestos.”

Food historians say you can still find vintage examples of the first Doritos ever manufactured moldering inside Paul Sorvino’s intestinal gas pockets.

A humble man by nature, West often declined to take full credit for Doritos’ inception in 1961, instead giving most of it to NASA’s helpful staff of Nazi chemists.

In 2008, the company launched their “out-of-this-world” advertising campaign, beaming a 30 second ad for Doritos into a planetary system 42 light years away. Their ultimate goal? To dissuade aliens from ever using us as their food source.

The family plans on tossing some Doritos over West’s urn before burying him, but not until they do marketing research on 5,000 other graves.

From The Archives: Ralph Edwards, TV Pioneer

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

Ralph Edwards, the host and creator of “Truth or Consequences” and “This is Your Life,” two of the most popular shows in television history, has just created another hit, called “This is My Death.”

During the 1950’s, his shows were so popular, that a town in New Mexico re-named itself “Truth or Consequences.” Unfortunately the “truth” was that it was too close to a nuclear testing range, and the “consequences” were cancer.

Every installment of “This Is Your Life” started the same way. Edwards would surprise a hapless celebrity with the phrase “This is your life!” whereupon the celebrity would finally get the message his career was over.

Remaining active throughout his 92 years, Edwards also created such well-known shows as, “The People’s Court,” “Name That Tune,” “The People’s Consequences,” “Name That Court,” “The People’s Tune,” and “Truth Court Consequences Tune People’s Name The.”

Edwards requested his remains be surprised by a guy with a camera and microphone and then wheeled into a room full of annoying relatives.

From The Archives: Ruth Siems, Inventor of Stove Top Stuffing

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

Ruth Siems, the home economist who created Stove Top Stuffing and made it the most popular Thanksgiving leftover since vomit and domestic violence, died last week of a heart attack after “experimenting” with a vibrating turkey baster.

Stove Top Stuffing was first marketed by General Foods in March 1972, and proved to be so popular with the public, Nixon put it on his enemies list.

Friends say Siems first came up with the idea for Stove Top Stuffing while trying to figure out a way to make Thanksgiving more painful.

Easily prepared in just five minutes, Stove Top stuffing comes in a wide range of flavors, including “turkey,” “chicken,” “beef,” and “smelly uncle Harold.”

According to the official United States Patent description, Stove Top Stuffing’s secret lay in the crumb size. You see, if the dried bread crumb is too small, adding water to it makes a soggy mass; too large, and the result is gravel. In other words, people pay way too much attention to this kind of shit.

Siems requested her remains be toasted, crushed into eraser-sized lumps, and then rammed up the ass of a Butterball turkey so those cheap bastards at General Foods can finally taste the bitter revenge of a woman screwed out of 30 years of patent royalties.

From The Archives: Celebrity Dwarf, John Rice

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

John Rice, the self-made Florida millionaire who at 2 feet, 10 inches, was one of the world’s shortest twins, has died after falling off a footstool.

Over the last 25 years, Rice and his equally small brother Greg became millionaires doing infomercials and acting in TV and film –you know, mostly shorts.

As news of Rice’s death spread, flags all around the state were lowered to one-quarter staff.

Rice’s brother asked that John be remembered as the indomitable optimist who always saw every glass as less than half full.

Rice is survived by his brothers, Sneezy, Dopey, Grumpy and Happy.

Leo Kahn, Founder of Staples

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

Leo Kahn, founder of Staples and a pioneer in big-box retailing, is now a pioneer in pine-box decaying.

Kahn tragically died after a series of strokes. By the time doctors got to him, he was already canary yellow and covered with a unique, low-tack adhesive that allowed his body to be removed without leaving marks or residue –not unlike a pad of 3-inch square Post-it Brand notes. With prices like $2.99 for ten pads of 50 sheets each, it’s not hard to guess why this week is “Memo Mania Week”!

Kahn opened his first store in 1986 and offered every item you’d ever need in an office, from reams of copy paper to rape kits.

He soon discovered the secret to amazingly low prices was to first get products directly from the manufacturer –and then not tell them about it.

Today the chain generates over $27 billion a year, primarily because it gives millions of employees something easy to steal while their souls are being crushed at bank jobs.

Kahn requested his internal organs be cushioned in bubble wrap and grouped in highly visible, strategically located “pods” where customers can bring in their internal organs and refill their precious bodily ink fluids.

George C. Ballas Sr., Inventor of The Weed Eater

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

George C. Ballas Sr., a Houston developer who invented the Weed Eater, is now being eaten by weeds.

Ballas got the idea for his machine after watching spinning brushes at a local car wash. He wondered if the same principle that lets Americans underpay migrants who wash their cars could also inspire them to underpay migrants who piss off the neighborhood with noise and choking exhaust fumes.

Ballas soon began experimenting by poking holes in a tin can with fishing wire and attaching it to a rotary lawn edger. Seven maimed cats later, the “Pussy Eater” was born. But it wasn’t until someone suggested he use it on weeds that his invention really took off.

Ballas was the grandfather of Dancing With The Stars dancer Mark Ballas. Mark got the idea to become a dancer after watching a weed eater make everyone in his family so filthy rich they’d never again have to worry about getting a real job.

Ballas requested his remains be cremated and his ashes scattered in front of a leaf blower.

From The Archives: Mike Yurosek, Inventor Of Baby Carrots

Morning Remembrance Portraits by Nathan Smith copyright 2011

Mike Yurosek, the inventor of those peeled “baby” carrots used around the world by heroin addicts trying to kick the habit, died last week after chomping down on his own niblet.

It was in 1986 when Yurosek first perfected a way to take misshapen and broken carrots that would ordinarily be discarded, and basically make a huge fortune out of trash.

The invention boosted carrot sales by 35%, inspiring Yurosek to further increase profits by miniaturizing wages.

Many less-successful Yurosek innovations followed, including “Baby, Baby Peas,” “Zuchinni-Weenies,” and the puzzling “Mushroom-Shaped Mushrooms.”

Thanks to Yurosek, Americans today are eating a lot more carrots than their parents did. They’re also eating a lot more insect parts and rat droppings, so I guess things have a way of balancing themselves out.

Yurosek was an active volunteer at religious organizations and could often be seen whittling down a knobby, misshapen crucifix into bite-sized pieces.

The deceased requested his body be dismembered, shaped into 2-inch segments, and pumped through pipes into a peeling tank for final polishing.