Hurray! Joe Currie is dead! Although he was known to have died on stage numerous times, he actually just really and truly died yesterday in his sleep from a tragic canned goods avalanche. Joe was known to one and all as an angry man, he was prone to occasional bouts of happiness when face down on the rug in the basement of his pal Anthony’s house at 3 am with his pants around his ankles and a strange smile on the face of a nearby booker he’d just worked for. When not working on his radio show, his stand-up comedy, his day job, his band, his playwriting, his poetry, anger management therapy and mowing the lawn, Joe kept busy yelling at people on the phone, in his car, and at random intervals in public places. His rickety chair out on the front lawn, where Joe spent many happy hours cursing at passersby and holding up obscene signs on Sunday mornings, will be a memorial to the entire neighborhood that that cranky bastard has finally, finally died.
A memorial bonfire of all of Joe’s belongings will be held tomorrow, on his front lawn, by his grieving widow and his friend. Everyone who ever wanted to smack him in the head with a can of creamed corn is encouraged to attend. That means you, Davin.
Davin Rosenblatt – dead, dead, dead. I had to say it three times, because I just really never get tired of hearing it! Struck down by a mysterious truck in front of his home, his final words, “REALLY, STUPID?” were barely spoken before he took his final breath, his body crushed like his parents’ dreams when he dropped out of law school. Davin is survived by his overjoyed wife, his daughter, and several dozen African men named Agnes, Belinda or Florie at the Mugu’s R Us Internet Cafe. In life, Davin was known for his smart mouth and his ability to debate well past the point of anyone listening, but few knew of his secret yearning to march around the neighborhood in his underwear, soliciting illicit favors from the town’s elderly. The public should know that even though Mr. Rosenblatt lived his public life as a normal, suburban family man, in his cold, dark heart he was truly, the thing that cannot be mentioned in polite society…a comedian. It was just a miracle that he died before his audience did…of boredom.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on whom you are speaking to, Davin was mistakenly cremated, his ashes then mixed with egg and bread crumbs, chicken was rolled in it, cooked, and then fed to Joe Currie, who apparently lost a really big bet when Davin died before Pip. Therefore, anyone wishing to pay their respects are welcome tomorrow morning to the rows of folding chairs set up just outside of the Currie family’s outhouse.
After finally listening to everybody’s suggestions and after so many times on stage Davin Rosenblatt has died for the last time.
He leaves behind a Wife, a Daughter, two cats, some fish and a scamming mistress
Friends and family will be sitting Shiver in the Davin’s Den studio, and we do mean shiver as it is so fricken cold down there your nuts will retract into your body like landing gear.
He was a Comic, traveled the world, was on Comedy Central and was an in demand radio host, ran an entertainment company, blah,blah,blah
Who gives a shit he’s gone.
Please note his service will be Wednesday unless a compound show has been scheduled.
People have been assembled that want to speak highly of Davin please note this will start at 10:00am and run till 10:02.All then will be invited to pass his merch table one more time, You will not be required to buy anything as nobody did when he was alive.
Pip Helix’s Obituary
Pip Helix has passed on to another world today; one we hope was less cluttered.
She expired after being tackled by a love struck Mexican on a garbage heap at a Moroons show.
Mrs. Helix is survived her Husband Mr. Helix and a bunch of cats in various stages of dismemberment.
She is also survived by two cohosts, one that now has no access to cigarettes, and the other who now has to trust a moron to run a chat room.
Her services will be on Thursday with a sermon delivered in the chat by Tucker Tom. Out of respect for her stories, the sermon will be long and rambling.
Joe Currie and Johnny race will then perform three half-assed versions of Steve Winwood songs.
In lieu of flowers, please bring a piece of debris to place in the hearse with the casket, as she wanted to ride in death as she rode in life.
As a tribute to Pip Helix this obituary will be long, ponderous, & not entertaining, like every story she ever told on the radio. Pip Helix passed away. She was found buried under a pile of Steve Winwood 8 tracks. We are not sure when she passed as it appears her cats were feeding on her for quite some time. Unfortunately there will be no pall bearers at her funeral as she was the gay maker and quite frankly 6 gay men could not lift her butt fissured carcass. Instead she will be dragged to the curb. We find this fitting because Pip always loved to do her furniture shopping at the curb. She leaves behind Mr. Helix. Unfortunately Mr. Helix will not be at the funeral as he has a big Ramoones gig coming up. We realize that this is a big loss to the Mexican community as they loved Pip. They looked at her as in the best case scenario a quick way to get a green card or in the worse case scenario they would hide in her hoard undetected. Pip left her mark in the radio world. By mark we mean the indentation on the pillow that she always sat on and by radio world we mean Davin’s basement. Pip Helix’s loss has not gone unnoticed. Mark Zuckerberg, founder of facebook, had this to say. “Before Pip Helix was on my platform I loved cats. Due to her relentless & incessant posting of cat pictures I have donated 25 million dollars to ship every stray American cat to the kitchens of
. Screw you Helix. Screw you. With your cat postings you have managed to piss off more people then I ever could with my unending and pointless changes to facebook.” In conclusion, which is a phrase Pip Helix never uttered while boring her audience, her tomb stone will have what we imagine were her final words, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah Ramoones, blah, blah, Shtumpy cat, blah, blah, blah, China
Joe Currie was found murdered in his home. He was found in his bed. His head was caved in with a can of peaches. Though it is inarguable that many people wanted Joe dead the chief suspect is the woman whose leg Joe came on. Long Island is mourning this loss as comedians all across the Island will now be unable to take the stage as for their whole careers, which were considerably shorter than Joe’s, they were introduced by Joe Currie. He was known as the most experienced MC in the business. Joe often compared punchlines to a woman’s clit. Something he had heard about yet something he could never find and utilize properly for other people’s enjoyment. As you have noticed, as a tribute to Joe, this obituary was written in Joe’s preferred writing style. Out of place capitalization, poor spelling, tedious punctuation errors, and a new paragraph for each sentence. Joe’s lack of coordination and poor command of basic English was an inspiration to every special Olympian. For to know Joe was to feel better about yourself. His best friend, Anthony Cumia was going to be here but instead he is drinking wine and playing with toy helicopters. Joe had composed the music for his own funeral durge but the funeral parlor decided to go with a more talented musician and keyboardist. This was known as Joe’s final firing. Joe did record a message for his friends. As you know we played it but could not hear Joe stammer through it as he once again forgot to turn on the microphone. It was hard to find a final resting place for Joe as it was feared his bones would turn the soil barren. Finally it was decided Joe should rest for all of eternity in the place where he spent most of his life…firmly entrenched in the barrel. Joe was nothing if not honest. He would not want us to lie on this day. We will honor Joe and not lie. We will not call him a great man. Instead we will remember Joe for what he was, a slightly below average lumocks, who was loved by those who did not know him, and irritated by those who did. This obituary is like any project Joe ever worked on. Average at best. And in true Joe fashion it took three times longer then it would for a baboon who had just suffered head trauma in a trampoline accident. In closing Joe Currie is dead so I guess that means Larry Defelice will take all of Bix’s light’s and backdrops.