Gonna age myself in a really awkward way right now. And I don't really care, because I'm in a lot of pain. In case you haven't heard, Farrah Fawcett died this morning. I didn't know her personally, but she was a huge inspiration in my life. Some of you chuckleheads are probably guffawing right now and making sophomoric jokes about me sitting in my lonely adolescent room gapping at Farah's poster on the wall. But that's not how it was between me and Farrah. The Farrah I knew and loved was Jill Munroe, the hottest, meanest, baddest Angel on the planet. She took her work very seriously, and smacked punks in the mouth when they got up in her grill. Sort of like how I treat Steve. What I learned from Jill is that a woman can throw a mean punch and look good doing it. A lesson my older sister reminded me of on a regular basis. Oh Farrah, farewell to thee. Thine golden locks and karate kicks were an inspiration to me.
2 comments:
A Queen is Dead
A more eloquent eulogy I have not heard. Thanks for paying proper tribute to a true representation of the essence of what a woman should be. All the womens out theyre should take note. Reminds me of the hottest chick i knew growing up in Parkview Arms. French kiss at thirteen & roundhouse kick yer front teeth out.
ashame this somber reflection on the loss of such a great rack could be overshadowed by the expiration of a bizarre Perderast who's best friend was a dung slinging monkey (i aint talkin bout BJ & the Bear, neither).
Good lord i hope the Feds get up to Neverland & cut the chains off all those Bounce Houses to let dem poor kids free..
well said EP, as usual. i think you and i know a thing or two about Farrah. she was part sister, part mom, part girlfriend. sorry readers, it's an Ohio thing.
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