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