Stoner Obituaries

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Wire Hangers 1957- 2016

In a protest to end all protests, the wire hanger is no longer the shining symbol of America’s selfish and demented.  Once the refreshing light of schizophrenia and unwanted pregnancies.  Now just another Joan Crawford cliché, the wire hanger is truly no more.

The marketing team at Planned Parenthood huddled together today to feverishly decide the future symbol for uterus expulsion. We sent in a suggestion to use the pitch fork, but it was quickly dismissed.

Thomas Moore March 1955- November 2016

There’s never a next time to pay attention

Born legally blind, Thomas Moore achieved more than the average man. After three major and highly experiemental surgeries, Moore was blessed with the gift of sight and was finally able to see the gruesome ugly in his wife and three children he left behind. Moore, 37, died in a heinous head-on automobile collision one beautiful Sunday afternoon because didn’t see the stop sign.  Irony.



Sean Birman June 1985- January 2017

Deafolympic gold medalist, Sean Birman 26, died today.  Not of natural fucking causes like a hot girl riding you into your happy place or getting hit by a transit bus wrapped in a ‘coming soon to DVD’ Despicable Me3 Ad or being pushed into a burning building set to explode.  No, nothing normal like that.

He was scattered, smothered, covered, battered and beaten to death in a case where signs mixed and language signals crossed.  Mixed signals in sign language?  Our experts tell us that “I live here,” can easily be misconstrued as, “I will kill you and your wife on Tuesday.”

Now our gold medalist is in a heavenly place where magical cupcakes are brought to you when you say bring me a magical fucking cupcake.  And not just any place, a place where men in Spartacus attire present trays of various meats. (not that kind of meat you dirty bastard!  Ok, that kind.)


About Stoner Kola

I'm your typical chubby-chaser-hottie. I'm also a thrower. I throw rocks at cars, occasionally people. I'm growing up to be a satirical comedy writer, but I think I'll just end up an asshole like the rest of these jerks. I love food! My dream threesome would be me, red velvet cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory and a lemon cupcake from Sprinkles. Bring that and I can easily be taken advantage of. My best friends (I call them my better halves) are gay. They are the best. Bring a troth a sexy men and it's a partaaaaay!

Posted on January 10, 2017, in Obituary. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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