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Wednesday, July 22, 2015

How to Die and Make the News

Recently a five-year-old girl was killed when a large sturgeon jumped out of the Suwanee River and landed on top of her in the boat she was riding in. Tragic, indeed, to die so young and in such a bizarre way.

But frankly, I think sudden, unexpected, and quick death is the best way to go. Everyone wants to die in their sleep, but too often that is preceded by prolonged pain and suffering. Although sudden death is probably the worst case scenario for the friends and families of the victim, I’d sure choose it over, say, months or years of chemo, throwing up, wasting away, enduring pain, shitting myself and prolonged anguish every day. Here are some choice methods for quick deaths that have taken place, so keep these in mind should you be diagnosed with cancer of a major organ. I’m not suggesting you take a dive into a wood chipper, mind you. There are other ways.

Spring Forward, Fall Back. Three Palestinian suicide bombers died an hour before their planned demise and took no other victims, because the bombs had been set to go off by someone else on daylight savings time, and the bombers already switched their watches to standard time.

Isadora Duncan Wannabe/Safety Line Death. In Seattle, Jackson Roos was riding a zip line in his back yard when the safety line caught on his helmet and choked him to death.

When You Gotta Go, You Gotta Go. A man who couldn’t hold it any longer and went between subway cars in New York City to take a dump and died after falling onto the tracks and was crushed by speeding subway cars.

Isadora Duncan Wannabe II and III. A burka-wearing Muslim woman in Sydney was strangled when her scarf wrapped around the axle of the go-kart she was speeding around in and strangled her. In Turkey, another was beheaded doing the same thing.

Unsafe Sex. A man in the Ukraine had both legs severed, and his girlfriend was killed after being run over by a train while having sex on the tracks.

Where’s the Beef? In Brazil, a man sleeping next to his wife died of internal injuries after a 3,000 pound cow fell through his corrugated roof. The wife and cow were unharmed.

Leave it to Beaver. Attempting to take a selfie with a beaver, a Belarus man was killed when the beaver bit him, severing an artery in his leg.

I Did it for the Snake. In order to win a pet ball python, a 32-year-old Florida (where else?) man died after winning a cockroach-eating contest in 2012.

Wile E. Coyote Wannabe. A woman in England survived a 100-foot fall after a flock of sheep charged her and the motorcycle she was riding. The woman survived the fall but was struck and killed by the bike. She then held up a sign that read, “Ouch!”

Death by Pharrell Williams. 32-year-old, overjoyed non-seatbelt-wearing, car-selfie posting Courtney Sanford, not paying attention to her driving, wrote on Facebook from her car, “The happy song makes me so HAPPY!” seconds before plowing head-on into a recycling truck.

Going Up, Doctor? A physician, after boarding an elevator at a Texas hospital, was decapitated when his head got caught between elevator doors, and the car of the elevator ascended. Third floor: fabrics, notions, kitchenware, and torsos.

Is it True Blondes Have More Fun? While driving in England, a hairdresser was incinerated after hair bleach chemicals leaked out, forming a flammable gas. The woman then lit a cigarette.

Wile E. Coyote Wannabe II. James Heselden, the owner of the Segway Company, died after driving a Segway off a cliff in Yorkshire, England.

Bazooka Joe. A Ukrainian student had his face blown off after dipping a piece of gum into an explosive compound.

Death by Office Supply. You know those pneumatic lifts that raise and lower your desk chair at work? Once one exploded and sent metal chunks deep into the rectum of its Chinese victim, who bled to death. Sit down, make yourself comfortable.

What Kind of Proof? While testing a bullet-proof vest, a Denver man died after being stabbed through the vest into the heart by his uncle.

Look Out for that Windmill, Too.  A child was electrocuted while trying to retrieve golf pall at a miniature golf park from a small pond. An electric pump had malfunctioned.

There Once Was a Dog With a Bone.  A Limerick, Ireland woman died from an allergic reaction to the semen of a dog she just had sex with. It’s always nice when someone dies doing something they love.

Shit Happens. While attempting to repair a septic tank he’d entered, a Russian man drowned after inhaling its toxic fumes. Not to be outdone, his wife also fainted after inhaling the toxic gas, fell in and drowned. I hope the mortician charged extra.

On the Upside, He Stayed Fresh for Days Afterward. A 50 year old man from Surrey England, perished from autoerotic asphyxiation after wrapping himself in three rolls of plastic wrap.

Lucky Strike. A North Carolina man set himself on fire after accidentally drinking gasoline from a jar and then lighting a cigarette.

Where’s My Tip? A 67-year-old Texas man died of cardiac arrest while receiving a lap dance at a strip club.

Third Time’s a Charm. In 1995 after failing to kill himself with a shotgun blast first to the chest and then to the neck, an Austrailian man finally succeeded by aiming closer to his heart. What a trooper.

Wedgie from Hell. A 33-year-old man pulled the back of his stepfather’s underpants over his head. The elastic was so tight against his throat that he died of asphyxiation.

Death by Method Acting. Lee Halpin, a 27-year old documentary filmmaker on homelessness died of hypothermia while immersing himself in the lifestyle of his subjects in Newcastle, England.

Chicken Soup for the Soul. In 2012, a nursing home patient in Rio was killed when a nursing technician accidently hooked up her feeding tube to her IV. Her veins were then filled with soup. Must have been tough getting that matzo ball into those arteries.

Worse than Sturgeon. In Bolivia a drunken teenager committed suicide by jumping out of his canoe into a known piranha-infested river.

Worse than Piranha. And of course there was the case of 28-year-old Texan Tommie Woodward, who, ignoring the pleas of knowing people and a “No Swimming—Alligators!” sign, declared, “Fuck that alligator,” took a dive off a dock and was dragged down and ripped apart by the eleven-foot gator who was quietly hiding under the dock, waiting for him.

So after considering things a bit, maybe a little long-term suffering wouldn’t be such a bad thing. A little Demerol or morphine could make things a lot more tolerable. I’d like to go out the way dogs die when you put them down. One shot to make you unconscious, followed by an injection to stop the heart. Simple. Painless. And no underwear band to pry off from around your neck.

Source: unusualdeaths.com and others



L-G-B-T-Q-Q-I-A-A-P-M-O-U-S-E


Ya know, I’m all for inclusiveness, but recently I got an e-mail that made me want to boycott gay pride day forever.

Which is not to say that I don’t already do that. I haven’t been to a pride day celebration in over a decade. Pride day used to be fun and silly and a good reason to dress up funny and paint your face. Then the corporate world got wind of it and discovered we were willing to spend money—a lot of money—when we were feeling proud. Now pride day is not a lot different than a shopping spree at a Westfield mall, without the benefit of air conditioning.

Pride day used to be entertainment, outdoor dancing and learning about organizations that assisted the gay and lesbian community. Now you go to pride day, and you have cell phone companies dragging you to their booths with Vaudeville hooks while they scream in your ear like circus barkers. Banks offer you vapid incentives to open accounts or apply for credit cards, and you have to run from insurance salesmen.

Anyway, about that e-mail. Today I got an invitation to go to gang up with a bunch of folks at the Los Angeles pride day. I don’t know how I got on their mailing list, because I’ve only been to Los Angeles once. I saw the Hollywood sign and got stuck in abysmal traffic, which to me met all the requirements of the Los Angeles Experience, and I don’t feel the need to go back. And anyone can tell you that if I’m in a city that is within spittin’ distance to a Disney park, as Los Angeles is to Anaheim, I’m out on the next bus.

Anyway, about that e-mail. It told me to come join my LGBTQQIAAP sisters and brothers for pride day.

The what? How do you even pronounce that? I came skidding to a halt at that ridiculous acronym. I had no idea what it was, so I had to Google it.  The Urban Dictionary solved the mystery.

We used to be simple folk. We used to be the gay community. Then the lesbians wanted their separate piece of the pie, so to speak, and we became the gay and lesbian community, and that’s how the outside world referred to us. It was brief, and everyone knew what it meant. Then, for whatever reason—inclusiveness, I guess— we became the LGBT community. And a long time after that, someone put a Q on it.

By this time I didn’t even bother to find out what the Q was for. Turns out it wasn’t Queer, but Questioning, which sounds more like a group of Jeopardy! contestants. Without asking anyone, I guessed that these people were questioning their sexual orientation. But then, what’s the difference between Questioning and Bisexual? Once you “identify” (a word I’m really starting to hate) as bisexual, I guess you are no longer questioning. You’re just greedy. Basically you’re saying if you can find any human who’ll have sex with you, male or female, then you’ll go ahead and try them out. So why aren’t they called trysexuals?

Anyway, I was wrong about that, because Questioning people are not questioning their sexual orientation. They are questioning their gender. Alrighty then. Got it.

So now we have two Q’s now: one for Queer, one for Questioning. I was called queer too many times as a kid to find that necessary, so I am removing it from the acronym. So now we’re down to just 8 letters.

The other letters:

I is for Intersex, boys and girls. We no longer use the term hermaphrodites. Intersex people have the genitals of both sexes. I have enough trouble locating the one I have, so I’m pretty happy not having other components in the inventory that I wouldn’t know how to care for. Next!

A is for Asexual, and A is for Allies, who are straight people. Get out of here, straight people. Thanks for your support, but you have you own category! Asexual people can be straight as well. You guys beat it, too. Go back to your all-night video games and programming jobs.

And lastly, there’s P for Pansexual, who are people who enjoy copulating with Revere Ware.

I have a friend who used to host a Gay Shame party on every pride day, and I am beginning to warm up to that idea. Can we just stop it with the acronyms already? I think it’s gotten way out of hand, and no one is going to remember all the letters unless they write them down on their hand to use later. 

At least give us something that spells something. I’d like something catchy and easy to remember, although not necessarily short. I vote for Sexually Other Without Having Acronyms that are Tedious, or SO WHAT. I hereby declare us the SO WHAT community.

I look forward to and will probably eagerly attend next year’s SO WHAT parade.

And if I decide not to attend, well, so what?