Worthless As Tits On A Retard

R.I.P.->Immortalizing Lance Lyle Johnson With Crap

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Lance Lyle Johnson
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Memorial For Lance Lyle Johnson

Look, I'm not an idiot, ok? (That has got to be the best declarative statement ever invented. It's like a reverse meta-paradox: Anyone who explicitly declares that they are not stupid, thinking that the statement itself will sway any opinions about their stupidity; is really, really fucking stupid. Its right up there with "Now, I'm not racist, but...". ). Anyway, again, not an idiot. I know these people have their hearts in the right place when they put up crosses and stick personalized R.I.P. decals on their cars and, god forbid; tattoos. It's just their execution of that great intention often conflicts with what they are trying to do, sort of like people who tell you they aren't stupid (Boom. Full circle in the first paragraph. Usually I save that witty callback shit until the last sentence of the page. Not this time motherfuckers).

For example, witness this shitty good intention...

So you made a plaque to honor Lance Lyle Johnson. Kinda tacky, but nothing horribly disgraceful so far. Then you read the first line of it and find out his memory is forever attached to a Beeline Portable Alignment System. Some people have bridges or schools or arenas or 5k runs or charitable foundations named after them. Lance got a machine you tote around to make 18 wheelers drive straight.

When you see me type it out and you actually have to read it, you have to admit I have sort of a point, right? Everyone always writes me to have empathy, to put myself in the loved ones' shoes, to think about how it would feel to have a family member pass so suddenly and then have a ginger piece of shit come along and mock them. But how about you cockbags do that courtesy for me this time?

I say, put yourselves in my shoes, see these memorials from my perspective: an asshole, completely ignorant of your loved one's life. Yesterday I knew nothing of Lance Lyle Johnson. Now, because of you, I am going to forever associate his name with a shitty cross and a plaque somewhere proclaiming his death resulted in the purchase of an alignment tool. That's the entirety of Lance Lyle Johnson to me and a lot of other people as well. And whoever built the cross and created that plaque are completely responsible for that impression of Lance.

Is that the legacy you intended to instill in people for him?

It gets worse. While his life sort of parallels Christ's (one death opening the gates to heaven, the other opening the opportunity for Vo-Tech kids to align big rigs roadside), skip to the last line of the plaque and you'll see the worst part:

"Always Buckle Up"

How fucking condescending. To me, it's like one last dig telling Lance he was responsible for his own death. Which by the way is my job, if of course I could find any corroborating evidence showing he in fact wasn't wearing a seatbelt when he passed. Which I couldn't, so I'm not saying anything about that, other than the fact that whoever was in charge of shitty plaque creation makes me seriously think Lance Lance wasn't wearing one when he passed.

Why would that need to go on a plaque honoring his memory? You think if David Carradine's and Michael Hutchence's loved ones had plaques made for them, that there'd be a footer note about "Don't Tie The Noose Too Tight"?

Probably not. Look, I love shitting on people and how they ate it, but 1. It's too late to beat that into Lance; 2. Attaching it to a memorial comes off as an 'I told you so' and 3. You're his god damn loved ones.

Jesus Christ, listen to me. This memorial actually has me telling people to back off from giving a dead person a hard time. Not only am I giving advice to on how not to shit on loved ones memories, I'm admonishing others for doing so. I take it back, maybe I am an idiot (Come on, you saw that coming right?).

As openly a callous prick that I am, it amazes me that people still overestimate my ability to care or think that I value their opinions. Prove me right at jason@porkjerky.com.