Bill Dohonue can suck it.
Last night, after many flights of stairs and a long night of packing ahead of me, I see an email asking about the attachments. I say "I gave you the attachments on Tuesday with the hard copy of the draft" His response "Are there attachments required? Call me"
Oh my god, I had no idea my boss had a male twin. I'm so sorry. I was just looking through old LJ posts, and I swear to god, except for the moving, I've posted this exact thing.
Best. Obiturary. Ever!
I linked to one of The Telegraph's earlier obits a few months ago, which is just as good: [link]
Thank you for the birthday wishes!
I linked to one of The Telegraph's earlier obits a few months ago, which is just as good: [link]
clicky click
I remember that now! Still hilarious.
What you need to to is call it something relentlessly positive, like "Nice People In Favor Of Hugs And Puppies,"
And then I will start up a competing organization called "Awesome People In Favor Of Smoochies And Kittens" and demand to know why you want the happycat to run out of happy.
I believe Nora posted that obituary without considering the effect of said post on puppies. This offends me and all right-thinking bons.
How did Pratt die?
I think that was basically a cool obit, except scattered. I reel at the existence of Pratts and von Bismarcks. Incredibly alien. Alien like Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake. I understand you can't just sign up for the former, but they're both equally other to me.
Hm, based on this section of the obit, there seems to be myriad ways Lord Pratt could have died:
Several years ago, in Italy, he had a miraculous escape when he overturned his car on the main road between Grosseto and Siena.
Pratt managed to escape prosecution by disarming the local police with his charm, wit and smattering of pidgin Italian.
Pratt was equally dangerous with firearms. On one drive he shot a fellow gun in the eye, and invitations to shoot dried up.