Eulogy for Zen Clown

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To be or not to be; That is the question...

(What's the answer, shithead?)

I don't know. I don't even understand the question.

Zen Clown, Wednesday, 5 October 2005 09:58 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

Friends, drunks and prattlers, lend me your ears. I come to bury Zen Clown, not to praise him...

(As if you could...)

The evil that men do lives after them. The good is oft' interred with their bones.

(If they could get the bullshit out of you, they could bury you in a shoebox.)

The noble Aimless (and Dude and Rex and Matt and everybody else) hath said that Zen was ambitious. (they think you're an idiot) If it were so, it was a grevious fault and greviously hath Zen answered for it.

(What's your point?)

Well...I don't know...I guess I haven't thought this out.

(You're baiting Rex, aren't you.)

In a way, I suppose, but any Shakespeareian response by anyone will do.

(You are pathetic.)

*sigh*

Zen Clown, Wednesday, 5 October 2005 10:30 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

(Please forgive Zen for the previous posts. He's drunk on his ass and terribly bored. It's still dark and he is out in the yard with a flashlight in his mouth taking his swing-set apart so he can move it into the living room. It ain't easy...being Zen's ego.)

Zen Clown, Wednesday, 5 October 2005 10:49 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

I just received an email from Zen explaining how he awoke in the middle of his livingroom floor with an old radiator hose clamped firmly in his teeth and his neighbors TV antenna tower was laying in pieces beside him.....

Of course he was blaming it on the dog.

еdë §téè£ (еdë §téè£), Wednesday, 5 October 2005 21:18 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

Damn! I'd like to write some kind of a nice epitaph for Da Clown, so he could read it before he dies. Maybe something properly balanced between a bit of mucus-inducing sentimentality, leavened with a few flashes of mordant wit, all leading to the big worldy wise finish. But hell if I can figure it out tonight.

What can you say about an old drunk who dies? That he wasn't nearly so dead a while ago? That he loved his hootch, his sweet cootchie-coo, the loo (when he had a load on), and me?

Zen Clown had so much to live for. We know this because, although he was able to kick the living habit any time he felt like it, yet he persevered at staying in his skin right up to the moment he got kicked out of it. Before he died, he said, "It's not how often you drop your trousers, but the poetry I bring to it - the ineffable pile of my pant legs as they heap up at my ankles." In this he was much in agreement with Gypsy Rose Lee, who is also dead.

We shouldn't be sad now that Zen Clown has left us for good. He wouldn't want us to be sad. He would want us to be happy, like puppies, like children, like idiots. He'd want to hear us chortling, or failing that, snorting with ribald glee. That is why he insisted on an open casket memorial and why he saluted us one last time with trousers at quarter mast as he lay there, looking so pallid and lifelike, so inert, so plastered out of his mind. I could almost hear him snoring. But that was the Dude.

Now, let us all bow our heads and inspect our feet for a few moments of silently wishing we were not so god damn hung over...

There. That oughta do it. Who's up to lugging this sucker out the door? I'm warning you all right now - if we drop him, I'm not putting him back in the box!

Aimless (Aimless), Sunday, 9 October 2005 00:10 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

*Sniff*

That was beautiful.

Horseass, Sunday, 9 October 2005 02:12 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

Ah, Zenny, we hardly knew you.

Ed Kennedy, Sunday, 9 October 2005 02:21 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

I'll help carry if it'll get that keg tapped any quicker.

The sooner everyone is drunk the sooner the real stories of Zen and Sue, or Zen and CJ, or Zen and Matt, or any of a thousand perverted sexual conquests he imagined actually happened.

That was quite a touching speach Aimless, we can only hope that you are not off on some extended walk up a mountain when "the time" comes.

еdë §téè£ (еdë §téè£), Sunday, 9 October 2005 04:40 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

I'll always remember the way Pagliacci's heart-rending smile changed into a frown of consternation and then outright hostility when Zen, mistaking him for another errant nun, explained the intitricacies of getting chorines drunk and hiding gerbil porn and whatnot while trying to chew the cap off a bowling pin he thought was a bottle.

M. White (Miguelito), Sunday, 9 October 2005 16:08 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

Who's Zen Clown again?

Matt (Matt), Monday, 10 October 2005 06:37 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

Zen Clown?

Is he still alive? Bloody hell. Someone should have shot that bastard years ago.

Hoshi, Monday, 10 October 2005 11:20 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

From Hamlet and with apologies to Billy Boy Shakespeare
"Alas poor Zen! I knew him A.A.D., a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy:"
The bard himself must have known Zen to pen such words!
I hadn't realised the sod was that old!!!

Geoffrey Judge ( Ivor Feltersnatch), Monday, 10 October 2005 14:33 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

I think Zen Clown should direct that his body be embalmed using the same techniques they used on Vladimir Lenin and have a glass casket for it set up in the local shopping mall. He would be such an inspiration for the young folk.

Aimless (Aimless), Monday, 10 October 2005 21:32 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

WITH his trousers carefully draped about his ankles of course!

еdë §téè£ (еdë §téè£), Thursday, 13 October 2005 02:52 (thirteen years ago) Permalink

nine years pass...

i miss you, dude steel.

hurley, Thursday, 11 June 2015 01:17 (three years ago) Permalink


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