Well, Shit

You all may or may not be familiar with a link I have over there on the sidebar called Death's Door.

If not, you may want to check out some of his stories. Unless you're of the P.C. crowd or the type that don't like a bit of cussin', I think you'll like them. I've been a regular reader for oh, I don't know. At least a couple years. We've traded comments a time or two, and I even had the flattery of the guy quoting ME on his blog.

So with that, I regrettably post this announcement:

and the monkey flipped the switch

Hi, it's Michelle. I wish I could be guest blogging under different circumstances, but it's not to be.

Greg Beck has passed away. He was found in his home by his family this morning, and we believe that big, generous heart of his finally gave out. Funeral arrangements are being made, and I'll post an update when there are more details.

And as Greg would say, here's a blast from the past...

"As a cat gets older we sometimes begin to think of death and living and how we want to be remembered. And I’ve decided that not only do I want to be cremated... but I want every chick at my funeral rocking the red dress. That’s right, a low-cut red dress with those come fuck me at midnight heels. Well, except for my mother cause I doubt she’ll be having any of that shit. So remember, if brain dead, pull the feeding tube, cremation, and red dresses."

Greg Beck, June 28th, 2005

Well ya big lug, I'll miss your stories.




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