R.I.P. Bob
by Scott Hardie on June 22, 2019

My friend and former co-worker Bob, who provided us with jerky at GooCon: Siesta Key, recently passed away of a sudden illness. He was a quirky dude, occasionally given to hostile pranks, but usually a delightful and friendly presence whenever he saw you. I don't know how much his service in Vietnam warped him, but he definitely wasn't like anyone else I knew, prone to making weird jokes and unexplained connections between ideas. And it's really none of my business, but it seems to me like if you're going to suffer a terminal illness, getting the diagnosis mere hours before dying sure saves you a lot of prolonged grief. I hope he's having a blast in the afterlife somewhere, blaring rock music and welding some giant metal sculptures. He left behind some sad people here.
One Reply to R.I.P. Bob
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

Willow
Kelly recently spent a socially-distanced evening with some friends who were fostering a two-month-old kitten, and fell in love with her. Who couldn't love a face like this? So, we put in the paperwork to adopt her, and two weeks ago, Willow came home with us for good. Go »
She Can Really Whip a Donkey's Ass with a Belt
I hate the Black-Eyed Peas. You hate the Black-Eyed Peas. But Alanis Morissette really hates the Black-Eyed Peas. Go »
The Business of Busyness
My mother has Alzheimer's and dementia. She'll be 80 in a few months. For the last decade or so, her partner Andy has been taking care of her, but he's 85 himself and not able to continue. Go »
Unmitigated Gall
Life gets unpleasant quickly when your gallbladder stops working. TMI alert. I spent all day Friday with sharp pain in my abdomen, diagnosed as spasms from my gallbladder trying to expel a stone. Go »
Crash
There are some dangerous intersections in our neighborhood, where trucks come barreling through after the light turns red. This morning, Kelly and I were waiting at the light when she dropped her sunglasses. "Fuck beans," she muttered, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning forward just as the light turned green. Go »
Scott Hardie | June 23, 2019
Correction: I had heard that he passed about 24 hours after learning the diagnosis. But I just learned that it was actually two weeks.