Rocky
by Scott Hardie on July 18, 2008
Let's take a moment to mourn Rocky Aoki, who lived one hell of an interesting life. And that article barely even mentions his kids (in the sidebar), who have their own interesting lives.
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 »
Blood Lines
A few weeks ago, I dropped a glass bottle of salad dressing on the kitchen floor, making the house smell like vinaigrette for a day. Today, I stepped on the last errant bit of glass hiding in a crack of tile by the corner. Better my foot than the cat's paw, I guess; I don't lick between my toes. Go »When Erik Met Matthew
The spark for the idea came during the pandemic, when we here on Funeratic decided to try some Zoom conversations and games. Two people who I admire for (among other things) their ability to converse quickly and freely with strangers and to get along instantly with seemingly anyone, Erik Bates and Matthew Preston, talked to each other for the first time and of course they hit it off immediately. I knew I wasn't imagining it, because other people on the call remarked on it. Go »The Tiger
This is the second of four weekly blog posts about diagnoses that have completely changed my life since the pandemic started, after The Dragon. Last week, I wrote about my liver disease, which doesn't have any direct, detectable signs. It's not as if I feel any pain in my liver, or that I can sense that it's not working in the same way that I could tell right away if, say, my eyes stopped working or my lungs stopped working. Go »Things You Realize at the Top of a 40-Story Ferris Wheel
Kelly and I just got back from a two-day getaway to Orlando to celebrate our anniversary. No theme parks; we've been to them many times and they're jammed with people right now anyway. We tried small local attractions instead. Go »The Little Ship
Our cat Sweetie Pie passed away in her sleep on Thursday night after a very long illness. We don't know how old she was -- she was my mother's cat before mine, and my grandmother's cat before that, and belonged to some other lady in my grandmother's nursing home before then. We have that stranger to thank for giving her the old-fashioned name, but it was appropriate: Sweetie Pie was a friendly cat, who was happy when company came over (especially if they fed her treats!) Go »
