Walter Begonski died last week of general meanness and an extraordinarily foul mouth. Oh, and a rusted-out heart. Wasn"t a full sentence spoken by him that didn"t contain some expletive or another, usually more than one strung together in impossible combinations. We know, because most of his cussing was directed right at us, our whole pathetic lives. Begonski, whom we affectionately referred to as "Dead Weight," was employed by a different company about every year or so, with a number of months in between jobs. These layoff periods gave Begonski ample opportunity to get even more crabby than usual, blame everybody but himself for his sorry state and, generally speaking, make life even more miserable than the anguish he customarily caused.
It was during one of these in-between-employment periods that his wife, poor, embattled Dottie, keeled over whilst frying him up some sausages, a meat he delighted in consuming his entire life. That was over 10 years ago, but we still miss her, though Walter had nothing but ornery feelings toward her and used to cuss her out where she would have been standing or sitting if she were still breathing and doting over him, even though he didn"t deserve it. But, that"s how she was brought up, we suppose. There will be a calling for Begonski at the Fullerbrush Funeral Home on West 10th Street, Saturday at 2 p.m., but we figure nobody"ll come, unless it"s one of his equally foul-mouthed pals, in which case, we"d rather nobody showed up anyway. After that, we"ll mosey on down to the funeral home and put him into the cold hard earth where he can complain about the conditions and who knows who"ll be there to hear him, maybe some pill bugs, grub worms and nightcrawlers. He"ll be sorely missed, and we wish him Godspeed to wherever the hell he"s going. Note: Antennae now features obituaries penned by loved ones. For a rate card on how much it costs to place an obit, e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org.