MMP: Dearly beloved, and Clint, we are gathered here today to pay the final respects of Ramon Guadelupe "Footsteps" Falco. Falco, though unassuming, was one of the charter contributors to this fine piece of contemporary literature. As fate would have it, his tenure and work were ravaged by ailments that, to this day, remain mysterious to us all. We don't know why Falco was taken from us, he just kinda disappeared like a blonde tourist in Aruba. Was it cancer, syphilis, or maybe just an unhealthy obsession with his commemorative state quarters collection? We may never know.
Flubby would now like to say a few words.
Flubby: I would?
MMP: C'mon dude, it's for Falco.
Flubby: [rolls eyes] Fine. [clears throat] Falco died, as so many of his generation, before his time. In your wisdom you took him, Lord. As you took so many bright flowering young men, at Khe San and Lan Doc and Hill 364. Falco was a shining example of changing with the times and remaining relevant. How many other people could become an NFL internet wiseacre of considerable renown after a successful pop-music career that culminated in his global smash hit "Rock Me Amadeus." Once in Marrakesh, Falco and I were discussing the Hegelian dialectic when he remarked----
MMP: Flub, this is the guy that used to blog with us, not the Austrian one-hit wonder.
Flubby: Really? He's not the same dude as the singer? You're sure?
MMP: Pretty sure, bro.
Flubby: Fuck me. You think you know a guy...
Ape: Yeah, I joined the site after he had already gone MIA, so I have little to no recollection.
Unsilent: Right, I think he only did one post that wasn't a team preview.
Ufford: Maybe he'll come back from the dead again, like he did for the opening day Pittsburgh bukkake.
MMP: Dicks. [sighs] And so, Ramon...Guadalupe...Falco, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your mortal remains to the bosom of the short men's room urinal in Penn Station, which, for no tangible reason, we suspect you loved so well.
Goodnight, sweet prince.
Drew: I hope he's not actually dead, because that would make all our jokes about him being dead really awkward.
best fucking thing I've read all day.
ReplyDelete"Ramon Guadelupe."
holy hell I'm dying.
seriously, it's a joke that he's on the list over at DeadOn, right?
has anyone considered the fact that he was actually Keanu?
think about it...
Any metal bands go up in flame lately?
ReplyDeleteHaha....I vote Falco Meast of the Year.
ReplyDeleteGOD, I love 'The Big Lebowski'. I'm reminded of this for 5,392,492nd time...
ReplyDeleteIf Anna Nicole made it to heaven, I ... still have a lot of work to do.
ReplyDeleteI like to picture Anna Nicole in Hell being forced to watch reruns of Quite Frankly with the one and only Stephen A. Smith.
ReplyDeleteRamon!!! "Mis habeos de pesca la cocina!!!"
ReplyDelete"Yea, and God said on to Abraham, 'You will kill your son Isaac'. And Abraham said, 'I can't hear you, You'll have to speak into the microphone.' And God said, 'Oh, I'm sorry. Is this better? Check, Check, Check. Jerry pull the high end out I'm, getting some hiss back here.'"
ReplyDeleteDr. Zaius, Dr. Zaius
ReplyDeleteBoy are your faces going to be red when Falco's little sister finally gets off the phone and he can dial back on to the net.
ReplyDeleteRE: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/63/Falco_Grab.jpg
ReplyDeleteChrist, even his gravesite is queer lookin'. Great songwriter, though.
Flubby, what the fuck does anything have to do with Vietnam, man!!!??
ReplyDeleteSo if there's no corpse, what'd you guys stick in the casket?
ReplyDeleteNicely played, Unitard. Nicely played.
ReplyDeleteI've been forced to use Falco's final resting place before -- and yes, nothing quite takes the feces-and-hobo aroma of a Penn Station men's room to the next level like getting piss blownback on your ankles -- and I'll look forward to paying him a tribute the next time I'm there.
Unless there's a cigarette butt in the urinal. Then, of course, I'll be obligated to play Sink the Nazi Submarine.
even the sun goes down
ReplyDeleteheroes eventually die
horoscopes often lie
and sometime why
nothin' is for sure
nothin' is for certain
nothin' lasts forever...
Glad to embiggen your life, bigricks.
ReplyDeleteJust be sure not to make the "arooga!" siren noise and shout out "Dive! Dive!" as you're doing it. For some reason, that makes people stare.
fenwayfaithful, calling him FLACO instead of Falco makes the whole Ramon Guadelupe thing perfect.
ReplyDeleteFootsteps, I did not know ye, but apparently people cared enough about you to make fun of you behind your back at all times.
I wonder if Falco will feel like that guy who quit Boys II Men before they blew up.
What an EE-DEE-OT!!
Did you guys put him in a Folger's can?
ReplyDeleteDibs on Falco's contributor roll
ReplyDeleteToo soon?
Otto: why would people stare? that's a pefectly cromulent thing to do.
ReplyDeleteI'm not dearly beloved?
ReplyDeleteI maintain, that Footsteps was not only a poser, but a poser who couldn't generate original or entertaining shit at all. At least the rest of you (minus BDD and Captain Caveman), attempt to make interesting shit up. I'm glad he's dead. Fuck em. Get em' out.
ReplyDelete