What I would want you to say at my funeral.

Jun 28, 2014 by

We are gathered here today to remember Mel, who would rather have us call her Pinkatron, Pinkie, Mel, Melly, Melly Jelly Beans, or That Fat Chick That Likes Pink and Glitter a lot.

Mel…Mel was a special case. She had an unhealthy obsession with cats, unicorns, the color pink, fictional male and female characters and really said fuck too much in a conversation to be taken anywhere. Yet, taken she was. Taken with writing fantasy stories that rarely saw the light of day. Taken with using all the wrong grammar at all the right times. She was taken with get-rich-quick-online schemes and making teeny, tiny little things out of clay that people actually liked and purchased.

She gamed far too much, our dear Mel. She was often balls deep into the newest MMORPG for two weeks to six months, screaming obscenities at weirdos and making inappropriate fart noises over Mumble, Teamspeak, Raidcall and Ventrilo. When she wasn’t gaming, she was ignoring her house work much to the chagrin of her husband, Shawn. Who says she made up for it with great meals, fantastic sex, and blurting out one-liners that only made sense to her and those who love Skittles.

She had many cats in her life, despite being married, and drove her relatives to drinking due to her love of animals. Before she passed, her backyard was a small zoo of chickens, goats, pigs, peacocks, seagulls, ravens, cardinals, herbs, vegetables and insane little plastic doo-dads that spun in the wind.

She is survived by the few thousand she met online.
She will be remembered with love.
And pink things.
Definitely, a lot of pink things.


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