Lee Pitts: Long Time Passing
I read in the Wall Street Journal that children born today have a good chance of living until they are 150. Just imagine how the obituary page might read then.
Orpheous “Moldy” Ashbottom passed away at the Forever Dead Holding Facility after the candles on his birthday cake caused a fire, the sprinklers went off, and Moldy got pneumonia. Months passed before anyone realized he was dead. At the time of his death Orpheous was married to his twelfth wife, Wanda, a childhood sweetheart he saw at their 140th high school class reunion. After the pregnancy test Orpheus did the honorable thing and married Wanda.
At the rest home, Orpheous enjoyed playing the slot machines and using the male/female ratio to his advantage. He was still driving at age 135. He leaves behind his wife, who had recently filed for a divorce, 120 children (35 born on medicare), 460 grandchildren and 1,000 great grandchildren. In his final days Orpheus sold his kidneys, lungs and heart to pay the overdue bill at the elder care detention camp. In lieu of flowers send contributions to Diapers for Dads.
Magpie “Mumsy” Muttenchop, 152, passed away peacefully at the home of her great, great, great, great granddaughter. Town folk will remember Mumsy as the friendly Starbucks barista who later in life became a celebrity closet arranger. At age 110 in mid-life, Mumsy began her career as an artificial knee and hip salesperson for the Snap, Crackle, Pop Body Parts Corporation. The last 20 years of her life were spent puttering around the house in a mumu, long black socks and sandals trying to find her hearing aid and reading glasses.
Mumsy was married to Mike Muttenchop for 130 years and the two of them enjoyed sharing their teeth at very early bird dinners. Mumsy was once asked how she felt about being married for so long to the same person. She sighed and said, “It gets a little old after awhile. You know what I mean?” In retirement Mumsy was looking forward to taking very long naps. We should take comfort in knowing she finally got her wish.
Charles “Dirty Charley” Winklegoose, age 155, died of suspicious causes at his palatial palace surrounded by bill collectors, lawyers, mistresses and illegitimate children. After flunking out of Harvard, Charley spent 30 years in the military, serving in World War III as a golf course attendant at Camp David, and during World War IV as a highly decorated lobbyist.
After serving in the Chelsea Clinton Presidency and the Sasha Obama cabinet, Dirty Charley spent the next 80 years as a U.S. Congressperson, 15 of which were spent in San Quentin. During his stay there he continued to receive his forty million dollar yearly salary. Dirty Charley donated his prized collection of empty Metamucil® containers and prescription bottles to the Smithsonian on which he took a huge write off. Dirty Charley was laid to rest with full military honors in Washington’s Boot Heel cemetery where he’ll feel right at home with other crooks and scumbags.
Rainbow Seabreeze Harmony passed on to another dimension at the age of 150. She spent her life crusading for women’s right to pierce their bodies, and was once arrested for indecent exposure while still fully clothed. Her body was decorated with 138 colorful tattoos which, as she got older, sagged and morphed into some interesting, albeit pornographic, art.
Rainbow worked at McDonalds for 80 years, and was promoted to head dishwasher two years before retiring. She was killed by a marauding pack of wolves while at a protest rally against guns.
Never married, Rainbow had several life partners. At the age of 102 she won the two hundred million Lotto Jackpot which almost covered her 16 year stay in cell block 16 of the Long Time Passing Assisted Care Facility. Rainbow’s ashes were mixed with those of her pet lavender bush and were gently scattered so as to not contribute to ozone depletion. Her memorial service featured a lecture on climate change and Rainbow requested donations be made to the Euthanasia Society, Vegetarians for Peace, The Transgender Fund and your local chapter of Women Who Hate Men.
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I am often asked where I get my material to write about. Basically, writers have three options. They can invent a story, which requires a fertile imagination, or they can share their interesting life experiences.…