Friday, August 14, 2015

Death doesn't erase being a scumbag

Even though I've explicitly told my family I am NOT interested in hearing about Cousin Lech, they insist on keeping me informed of his activities.  Why do I refer to him as Cousin Lech?  I'll let you smart people figure that one out on your own and spare you the gory, lecherous details.  Needless to say, it wasn't a one-time occurrence nor a one-person occurrence.

I have a few close family members who refused to believe me and were sure I overreacted and/or misinterpreted his actions.  First off, STFU and believe a young woman when she tries to embarrassedly tell you something like this.  Second, STFU about how peachy this shitheel is.  And third, just STFU.  And when a second family member comes forward and corroborates, definitely rethink your opinions.

Many years later, my family is *still* telling me about Cousin Lech, namely that he just died.  Yay?  Would it be rude of me to say 'good riddance' to those who are praising how magnanimous this chucklefuck was?  His obituary almost made me gag.  I'm being the bigger person and keeping my thoughts to myself.  And sharing them here naturally.  Don't read my blog if you don't want to know my honest thoughts.

Someday I hope someone has the courage to write a genuine obituary.  In fact, I implore anyone who knows me personally to write mine truthfully.  "She was cranky frequently, and very high-maintenance, but not bad overall."  Or whatever you really think of me, including my faults.

Death doesn't erase our flaws any more than it erases our merits.  In memory, of course, since we're no longer here to *do* anything.  Although I may come back to haunt some people.  To be determined.

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