46

08Apr20

Well, once again, I outlived a whole bunch of chumps this year. More than usual in fact! That’s because, just in case you haven’t been out of your house in a while, we happen to be in the middle of a pandemic cutting a swath through the population of planet Earth. And as usual, I have proven to be completely immune. In fact, I am absolutely infuckingdestructible because I’ve spent the last few years having daycare and kindergarten germs coughed directly into my mouth and have built up antibodies to the most bleeding-edge diseases that haven’t even been invented yet.

And as usual, I just want to take the time to bid farewell and fuck you to a whole cohort of idiots who didn’t even know how to live to be 46. People who died at (Brimful of Asha) only 45.

Let’s start with Natasha Richardson, late wife of Liam Neeson and a woman who had a very particular set of skills, skills acquired over a very long career, skills that did not include skiing. This one is personal for me because I actually learned to ski on the very same bunny hill on which Natasha Richardson sustained her fatal epidural hematoma, and now I have survivor guilt. Wait, no. I have a guilty pleasure that comes every time I watch Love Actually and get to pretend that Liam Neeson’s wife in the movie also died of hitting a tree while skiing.

Okay, Revolutionary War naval hero John Paul Jones, which words are you better remembered for? “I have not yet begun to fight”? Or “No, I’m not the one from Led Zeppelin”? How does it feel to be made irrelevant by a bassist? You would have actually gotten along well with Led Zeppelin, though. You were a slaver and a pirate; they stole songs from black people. You liked statutory rape; they liked statutory rape. You fed people to the sharks; they fed sharks to people. In a way.

A little known fact about comedian Ralphie May: That was merely a stage name, shortened for professional purposes. His full legal name was Ralphie May Live Past Forty-Five But Probably Won’t.

How about you, Freddie Mercury? How do you feel about winning Rami Malek an Academy Award for Best Fake Teeth in a Motion Picture (an award previously won by Jude Law in Contagion)? And speaking of plagues, you recorded the soundtrack for the cult hit Highlander and are therefore somehow at least in part responsible for the plague upon mankind that was the rest of that film and television franchise. Who wants to live forever? Not you, you bucktoothed dipshit!

It’s Montgomery Clift, baby! I’ve got just one sentence for you, Monty. It’s from your Wikipedia page, and it hurts worse than anything I could write. Are you ready? Here it is: “Clift has been portrayed by Dave Franco in the film Zeroville, which was shot in 2015, but as of 2019, has not been released.” Wow. Raw deal!

Rocky Marciano, you actually died the day before your 46th birthday, champ. You almost went the distance! If that bell had rung and you had still been standin’, you would known for the first time in your life, see, that you weren’t just another bum from the neighborhood, to quote the best movie ever made about boxing, which wasn’t made about you. Of course, Raging Bull was hardly the worst film featuring a pugilist who died at age 45. Not when Bob Probert was in The Love Guru.

Some Superman you were, George Reeves. Faster than a speeding bullet? Definitely not, given the extremely suspicious circumstances of your death by gunshot. Suicide? No way. It was the Superman Curse. Think about it: Curses are magical, and magic is one of Superman’s few vulnerabilities. That, and horses. I mean, at least you got taken out cleanly and didn’t spend the last decade of your life as a quadriplegic, needing someone to massage your abdomen to knead your bowel movements out, like an used-up tube of toothpaste. Still, Christopher Reeve lived to be a ripe old 52, so who wins here? Well, it’s me, of course.

Speaking of heroes, there’s Audie Murphy. You’re a little shrimp who somehow became the most famous and decorated hero of World War II. You’re basically Steve Rogers without the Super Soldier serum, which makes your feats of Nazi-killing derring-do even more bad-ass. It actually pains me to pay you disrespect, but you would understand that I must do my duty. So let me say this. I know that, like Lt. Col. John McCrae (a victim of the Spanish Flu at age—you guessed it—45), you were a sensitive little poetry man. But in my opinion, in Flanders Fields, your poems blow!

As for you, Bam Bam Bigelow, I also respect you too much to make too much fun of you, because you are also a hero. You did save three kids from a house fire, literally running through a wall and getting second degree burns over 40 percent of your body in the process. You also spent your entire previous career wrestling in a bodysuit covered in flames, with flames tattooed on your head. Like, did you want to jump in a fire? It really feels like it isn’t about saving kids for you. It feels like you mostly seized on the first available excuse to just go swimming in the flames of a raging inferno. You’re weird.

Wow, I’m getting a little too reverent about some of these dead 45-year-old losers! I’d better go to the lightning round!

Singer and jazz pianist Nat King Cole? More like Not Get Old!

Die Hard actor Alexander Godunov? More like Not Godunov at at getting old!

Founder of modern epidemiology John Snow? You know nothing about getting old!

Who outranks who—”High Chief” Peter Maivia, capo di tutti capi Salvatore Maranzano, or General Tom Thumb? It’s a tie. You’re all rank as hell because you all stink like a bunch of decaying corpses, whereas I smell sweeter than “Sweetness” Walter Payton himself, because he’s dead and rotting too.

Go fly a kite, Wilbur Wright! Dust your broom, Elmore James! Hello, Ricky Nelson, goodbye life! Go jump in the Union Gap, Kirby Puckett! You dumb nerds! You’re such a bunch of jerks and creeps and losers. Not one of you could cut it here in 2020. And I can see with 20/20 vision, and I am telling you now, that I’m never gonna get the coronavirus, and I’m never gonna get my comeuppance! I laugh at this puny plague! I spit in the face of God and defy the coward to strike me down!



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