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GM's Thread About Everything/GM's Thread About Nothing (16 Viewers)

Uruk-Hai said:
There's a damned fly in my house that I've spent way more time than I'd like to admit trying to get rid of. I've used all of my nifty flyswatter moves - including the dreaded backhand double-swat - all to no avail. If y'all see a smoke plume on the horizon, it's probably because of that fly.
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Makes for a great bottle episode 

 
krista4 said:
I recently heard this note-by-note replica of Toto's "Africa" that Weezer inexplicably released.  What was the purpose of that?
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They do Rosanna too.  Some girl got a social media thing going to get them to sing her favorite song which is apparently Africa.  That’s messed up.

 
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Uruk-Hai said:
There's a damned fly in my house that I've spent way more time than I'd like to admit trying to get rid of. I've used all of my nifty flyswatter moves - including the dreaded backhand double-swat - all to no avail. If y'all see a smoke plume on the horizon, it's probably because of that fly.
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Rubber bands are great for shooting at and killing flies.

 
I buried my brother today.  It's been a couple months since he died. The funeral home in the town he died mailed me a package with his ashes and I didn't open them for a long time. 

I was the only one who spoke at his funeral. I buried his ashes in a small plot because I didn't have a good place to spread them.  The only people in attendance were my mother, father and uncle and their significant others.  I took his ashes on a last ride by our childhood home, his childhood best friend's house, and our high school, back before everything went wrong in his life.  My mom is mentally ill and couldn't handle speaking, my father hadn't been on good terms with my brother in two decades, and my uncle was there more to support me than to say goodbye to a nephew he didn't know that well. My dad and uncle are in their seventies and still see each other a few weeks out of the year.  My brother died at 45, as a victim of mental illness, cancer and poor circumstances. He would have been 46 Wednesday.  

I knew exactly what I was going to say. I'd planned to tell the story of his life with the good and bad all laid out.  It's one of the few things about funerals I knew my brother believed in.  We didn't dress up, my brother was homeless for a while and didn't own a suit, he despised formal events.  I would talk about us as boys, when he was a literal genius and a voracious reader who rebuffed my pleas to go play a game so he could read a book, to later when he found dungeons and dragons which was a good compromise,  a game about a book whose most powerful characters were the intelligent wizards and the dungeon master, roles that suited my brother perfectly.  To my parents' divorce, and how he stayed with my mom while i went with my dad and I'm still not sure if any of us did the right thing.   To his college days when he met drug using friends and his schizophrenia went terribly wrong. To his cross country trip to California, the last place he was ever happy.  To him becoming homeless and then ill and dying of cancer.  There was a good and complex person and he had nobody there but me to tell that story and only his immediate family to listen.  

I started crying about two words in to the eulogy and never fully recovered.   Everyone was patient and my uncle's girlfriend walked over to rub my back.  When i was done i asked if anyone else wanted to speak, they didn't, and I put a board over the small grave. My dad suggested we get a nice lunch afterwards and chose Applebees, where he and my uncle fought over who would pay the bill. I took my mom home, bought two bottles of cheap white wine, and drove an hour and a half home to drink them. 

I think I'm the only one drinking to him tonight which is a shame. 

If you're out there drinking tonight and wouldn't mind saying good bye Bill for me I'd appreciate it. 

 
bostonfred said:
I buried my brother today.  It's been a couple months since he died. The funeral home in the town he died mailed me a package with his ashes and I didn't open them for a long time. 

I was the only one who spoke at his funeral. I buried his ashes in a small plot because I didn't have a good place to spread them.  The only people in attendance were my mother, father and uncle and their significant others.  I took his ashes on a last ride by our childhood home, his childhood best friend's house, and our high school, back before everything went wrong in his life.  My mom is mentally ill and couldn't handle speaking, my father hadn't been on good terms with my brother in two decades, and my uncle was there more to support me than to say goodbye to a nephew he didn't know that well. My dad and uncle are in their seventies and still see each other a few weeks out of the year.  My brother died at 45, as a victim of mental illness, cancer and poor circumstances. He would have been 46 Wednesday.  

I knew exactly what I was going to say. I'd planned to tell the story of his life with the good and bad all laid out.  It's one of the few things about funerals I knew my brother believed in.  We didn't dress up, my brother was homeless for a while and didn't own a suit, he despised formal events.  I would talk about us as boys, when he was a literal genius and a voracious reader who rebuffed my pleas to go play a game so he could read a book, to later when he found dungeons and dragons which was a good compromise,  a game about a book whose most powerful characters were the intelligent wizards and the dungeon master, roles that suited my brother perfectly.  To my parents' divorce, and how he stayed with my mom while i went with my dad and I'm still not sure if any of us did the right thing.   To his college days when he met drug using friends and his schizophrenia went terribly wrong. To his cross country trip to California, the last place he was ever happy.  To him becoming homeless and then ill and dying of cancer.  There was a good and complex person and he had nobody there but me to tell that story and only his immediate family to listen.  

I started crying about two words in to the eulogy and never fully recovered.   Everyone was patient and my uncle's girlfriend walked over to rub my back.  When i was done i asked if anyone else wanted to speak, they didn't, and I put a board over the small grave. My dad suggested we get a nice lunch afterwards and chose Applebees, where he and my uncle fought over who would pay the bill. I took my mom home, bought two bottles of cheap white wine, and drove an hour and a half home to drink them. 

I think I'm the only one drinking to him tonight which is a shame. 

If you're out there drinking tonight and wouldn't mind saying good bye Bill for me I'd appreciate it. 
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This next Vodka Soda was not on the menu.  To Bill!  :banned:  

 
bostonfred said:
I buried my brother today.  It's been a couple months since he died. The funeral home in the town he died mailed me a package with his ashes and I didn't open them for a long time. 

I was the only one who spoke at his funeral. I buried his ashes in a small plot because I didn't have a good place to spread them.  The only people in attendance were my mother, father and uncle and their significant others.  I took his ashes on a last ride by our childhood home, his childhood best friend's house, and our high school, back before everything went wrong in his life.  My mom is mentally ill and couldn't handle speaking, my father hadn't been on good terms with my brother in two decades, and my uncle was there more to support me than to say goodbye to a nephew he didn't know that well. My dad and uncle are in their seventies and still see each other a few weeks out of the year.  My brother died at 45, as a victim of mental illness, cancer and poor circumstances. He would have been 46 Wednesday.  

I knew exactly what I was going to say. I'd planned to tell the story of his life with the good and bad all laid out.  It's one of the few things about funerals I knew my brother believed in.  We didn't dress up, my brother was homeless for a while and didn't own a suit, he despised formal events.  I would talk about us as boys, when he was a literal genius and a voracious reader who rebuffed my pleas to go play a game so he could read a book, to later when he found dungeons and dragons which was a good compromise,  a game about a book whose most powerful characters were the intelligent wizards and the dungeon master, roles that suited my brother perfectly.  To my parents' divorce, and how he stayed with my mom while i went with my dad and I'm still not sure if any of us did the right thing.   To his college days when he met drug using friends and his schizophrenia went terribly wrong. To his cross country trip to California, the last place he was ever happy.  To him becoming homeless and then ill and dying of cancer.  There was a good and complex person and he had nobody there but me to tell that story and only his immediate family to listen.  

I started crying about two words in to the eulogy and never fully recovered.   Everyone was patient and my uncle's girlfriend walked over to rub my back.  When i was done i asked if anyone else wanted to speak, they didn't, and I put a board over the small grave. My dad suggested we get a nice lunch afterwards and chose Applebees, where he and my uncle fought over who would pay the bill. I took my mom home, bought two bottles of cheap white wine, and drove an hour and a half home to drink them. 

I think I'm the only one drinking to him tonight which is a shame. 

If you're out there drinking tonight and wouldn't mind saying good bye Bill for me I'd appreciate it. 
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I'll have big drink in Bill's honor now. All the best to you my friend. I'll meet you at Fenway in Sept., if you want. Does your uncle's girlfriend give good back rubs? Maybe you could bring her, too.

 
ՏɦɛʍíɠհԵɧɑѵҽ™‏ @JustDontBugMe

"LOL. CHECK THIS OUT" said the cat, who was very bad at math, to his friend as he jumped from the 9th floor balcony for the 9th time.

 
Things I expected to do today: hang out with my friends for a few more hours before we all hop on planes and go home to different states.

Things I did NOT plan on doing today: waking said friends up early to tell them I think I need to go to Urgent Care because one of my #### has been causing me a lot of pain since about 2am. Also, going to Urgent Care because my testicle has been in a bunch of pain since 2am.

Good times.

 
krista4 said:
Swordfish?  Is this a euphemism or do you mean actual swordfish?  I haven't seen that on a menu in years, and actually commented a couple of months ago that I missed it.
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After checking urbandictionary, if it’s a euphemism I want to hear the story. 

Also, swordfish (the actual fish) is disgusting. 

 
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