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2001-04-29
Dick Blow
B. 12.16.00 Diaryland / D. 4.28.01 Diaryland
Loss of Momentum/Litigious Celebrity Management
No more cheeseburgers! I eat a cheeseburger every few months, usually at a diner on a weekend when my feeding hours are off and I get really hungry, dumb hungry. I order a bacon cheeseburger�the deluxe, for the french fries and tomato�and await its arrival in a hunched, bestial, numb-fingered state. When it finally comes I fill the cheeseburger with every fixing available. Then I feed. Then I get sleepy. I go home and nap. I wake up and taste that cheeseburger all night. I always regret eating a cheeseburger.
I meant, to mark the passing of Dick Blow, to mourn him, to make a sacrifice in his honor�no more cheeseburgers. To mark the passing of an entertaining chappie and lovable rogue, isn't it more customary to make a sentimental toast?
To Dick Blow, chiselled out of lint�all that remained after the lawyers moved in on your first incarnation�a salute to your stamina under the circumstances. To Dick Blow, with the skinny young wife locked in the bathroom, a lawsuit in storage�cheers to you for extrapolating plausible behavior from a mean face.
Cheers to your insights and finely-drawn, colorful characters. Cheers to your pantsless-ness
With you, a piece of frontier America vanishes. Your entries are buffalo ghosts.
Consolation site: The Mexican