The woman below penned her own obituary. It’s becoming pretty popular these days. I found out because after I thought I coined a word for this post, I looked it up and it’s an actual thing.
illustr8r sent the obit to me and I said, “we should pen our own obituaries and put them on the site.”
The idea creeped her out a bit.
She thought it was interesting but got spooked that it might bring bad mojo and become prophetic.
So maybe some readers might want to take a crack at some humorous obits.
Who doesn’t like gallows humor?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jean E. Oddi, September 7, 1925-February 20, 2017. I was born. I lived. I died. I hate to admit it, but evidently I died. I guess, after all these years, God finally figured out where to put me. I should have known the end was near after I had to be in room # 20 in the emergency room. I hate even numbers. I’m leaving behind a hell of a lot of stuff Casey and Melissa will have to get rid of. So, if you’re looking for random crap, you should wait the appropriate amount of time and get in touch with them. But this is not the time to talk about what I may or may not have bought from the JC Penney Outlet or TJ Maxx, this is about me.
I was born on September 7, 1925 in blah, blah, blah, the daughter of a wonderful and beautiful woman and an SOB man. I lived most of my life in Columbus, Ohio but had a few stints in West Virginia, New York, Nevada, and California. My husband, Guy Oddi, died before me and I will be missed by my favorite daughter, Casey; my adorable and favorite granddaughter, Melissa Eden should be Jean and her conservative husband, Michael and by those two amazing grand babies, Griffin and Nicholas, I am very proud of. I will miss my special friendship with Mary, we had so much fun over the years. I will miss my friends at Cherrington Place and hosting party central on Friday nights. I’ll miss everyone at Trillium, especially those I played cards with.
Thank you, everyone, for all you did for me. To Shirley, hell, what can I say? We saw it all, did it all and had a ball! Thank you for putting up with all my shit. You are my oldest friend and I loved every minute we had together. I will always remember when my mom and I tormented Casey’s suitors, crazy, fun times at Buckeye Lake, on Strawberry and Geers, gardening, modeling, being crafty and shopping, any time I spent dancing with the baby, listening to good music, playing blackjack and the crazy game, playing any card game with Guy, Shirley and Joe. I loved the smell of lavender, drinking hot coffee, teaching my granddaughter dirty songs, telling jokes and stories from the bad old days, cooking and eating, hosting huge holiday meals, baking pizzelles, cookies and cakes, including one that takes 4 days! I had hilarious and memorable adventures to Florida, Washington DC, Vegas, Alaska, Hawaii, Mexico, Australia, Europe, the Panama Canal and sorry Casey, Canada. Oh, dammit, I really wanted to go to Asia.
I’m proud to have been the president of my own corporation, #1 AH, and to have received my doctorate in Bitchology, please see my card. I enjoyed showing dogs and remember Missy, Princess, Ms. Tweetie and my sweet Caroline. I sure hope there is CNN wherever I’m going so I can check on my stocks. I’ll be cheering on Ohio State with Rod and I pass to Melissa my “witchy witchy cat’s ass” powers. Use them wisely. I was a crazy teenager, a loving wife, a hard worker, a loyal friend and a hands on grandmother. My late husband called me Black Cat and Gabby. As a descendant of British royalty, it’s no surprise I’ve also been called The Queen and Queenie, but my favorite title is Majean. Please remember this never let the facts get in the way of a good story, the middle finger is sign language; when someone gives, take; when someone takes, scream, and take care of yourself don’t get old.
Oh, and don’t tell anyone what kind of day to have. A short service by Rev. Copeland will be held at The Trillium, 3500 Trillium Crossing Way on Saturday, February 25, 2017 at 11:00 am. The after party open house will be at Melissa and Michael’s home from 3-5 pm Saturday. If you are sick, don’t bother to come. I might be dead, but I still don’t want your germs. Over the years, I supported many different charities so, in lieu of flowers, because they don’t smell anymore anyway, donate to Olentangy Patriots Little League, Ohio Health Hospice or Living Faith Apostolic Church. My family and I would like to thank the caring staff, nurses and doctors at Riverside Hospital, Mid Ohio Cardiology, Dublin Family Care, especially Jim Barr, and Ohio Health Hospice.
I would like to thank my darling daughter Casey, who I adore, who cared for me, shuttled me around to my doctor’s appointments, managed my pills, cleaned up after me and apologized in my wake for far too many years. I wasn’t always nice, but I did, and always will, love you. Watch out for the bluebirds. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Don’t cry because I’m gone, instead have a drink and be happy you knew me. Maybe you can cry a little bit, because, after all, I died. Now, and forever, I am happy and playing cards, with Jamesonbut not until 9 p.m. Cheers! Please visit www.schoedinger.com to share a memory with Jean E. Oddi’s family. Arrangements entrusted to SCHOEDINGER MIDTOWN CHAPEL, 229 East State St., Columbus, OH 43215.
Published in The Columbus Dispatch from Feb. 22 to Feb. 23, 2017
Barrack Obama: he was a worthless piece of shit his entire life.
It was Parkinson’s the whole time, suckers. What difference, at this point, does it make?
This was a pretty good one the other day. Obvious that he didn’t write it himself
Leslie Ray “Popeye” Charping was born in Galveston on November 20, 1942 and passed away January 30, 2017, which was 29 years longer than expected and much longer than he deserved. Leslie battled with cancer in his latter years and lost his battle, ultimately due to being the horses ass he was known for. He leaves behind 2 relieved children; a son Leslie Roy Charping and daughter, Shiela Smith along with six grandchildren and countless other victims including an ex wife, relatives, friends, neighbors, doctors, nurses and random strangers.
At a young age, Leslie quickly became a model example of bad parenting combined with mental illness and a complete commitment to drinking, drugs, womanizing and being generally offensive. Leslie enlisted to serve in the Navy, but not so much in a brave & patriotic way but more as part of a plea deal to escape sentencing on criminal charges. While enlisted, Leslie was the Navy boxing champion and went on to sufficiently embarrass his family and country by spending the remainder of his service in the Balboa Mental Health Hospital receiving much needed mental healthcare services.
Leslie was surprisingly intelligent, however he lacked ambition and motivation to do anything more than being reckless, wasteful, squandering the family savings and fantasizing about get rich quick schemes. Leslie’s hobbies included being abusive to his family, expediting trips to heaven for the beloved family pets and fishing, which he was less skilled with than the previously mentioned. Leslie’s life served no other obvious purpose, he did not contribute to society or serve his community and he possessed no redeeming qualities besides quick whited sarcasm which was amusing during his sober days.
With Leslie’s passing he will be missed only for what he never did; being a loving husband, father and good friend. No services will be held, there will be no prayers for eternal peace and no apologies to the family he tortured. Leslie’s remains will be cremated and kept in the barn until “Ray”, the family donkey’s wood shavings run out. Leslie’s passing proves that evil does in fact die and hopefully marks a time of healing and safety for all
holy crap. I think our local rag charges a nickel a word. Would be no inheritance for my kids if i wrote one that long.
THERE IS NO WAY I AM READING ALL THAT SHIUT.
^^^^^^^^^^
Bwhahahaha!
Just put in mine? Twas an exemplary Asshat to the stoopid.
“Here lies Jerry Manderin. From all accounts, he was a total fag.”
Obituary? F that. Told my family char me the cheapest way possible (pretty sure for an adult human it’s a grand), Pour me into a ziplock baggy, take me home and toss me in the backyard, take the insurance money they would have spent on a funeral and use it for a vacation.
I had a life. It was fun sometimes. Sometimes it wasn’t. To those doctors who said I was a hypochondriac, I told that I didn’t feel well, assholes.
‘I God. That damn injun got me. Dern rifle misfired.
I came…
I saw…
I went.
See, I told ya I wuz sick.
Technically not an obit, but I always thought one of the epitaphs Erma Bombeck suggested for herself was pretty cute:
“YOU WANTED THIN,
YOU GOT THIN”
🙂
Wouldn’t an autobituary really be the story of a failed car like an Edsel, or a Vega, Pinto, Gremlin (actually anything ever built by AMC), Pontiac Aztek etc. or in the case of the East Germans a Trabant or the worst of all failed cars a Yugo.
An autobituary for the Ford Edsel would read as follows; The Ford Edsel born prematurely in 1957 and was named after Henry Ford’s eldest son Edsel. Introduced with great fanfare as car of the future but turned to be very disappointing because it was said by many wags and pundits that it looked like an Oldsmobile sucking a lemon with its huge ugly front grill. The Edsel was brought about from the forward thinking of Robert McNamara who was chairman of the board of Ford at the time. McNamara was also one of the failed architects of The Vietnam War as well. Never trust a politician to build a car or get us involved in an unwinnable war. Fortunately the Edsel died an ignominious early death in 1959 as the result of being an absolute failure and truly ugly car that nobody wanted to buy. Ford also made some truly ugly Thunderbirds in the late 50’s and early 60’s and eventually the Ford Pinto (as well as the Mustang 2) in the early 70’s which would explode on demand just by looking at them wrong. It’s a wonder Ford didn’t go out of business, they left that almost to Chrysler in the 70’s and 80’s with all their crappy cars, especially the K car. What was Lee Iacocca thinking (he was behind the creation of the Ford Mustang in 1964) when he was at Chrysler, but that’s another almost autobituary.
If I’d only known I’d live this long I’d taken better care of myself! Have a drink on me…Tom you can have two!
Don’t mind if I do Doc. Cheers.