A Doozy of a Disclaimer

A Doozy of a Disclaimer

Fun Fact that Dennis James Lord II, the subject of our very public glowing tribute, would not find funny in the least: Dennis (Den, Denny, DJ), would be embarrassed--OK, yes, mortified--to find himself in this celebratory position. So, with that in mind, we’ve devoted an entire website to honoring his life. 😆

Den's opinion of this madcap idea 😧

At most, he might skim this rambling write-up, and he’d tell you as much:

💀: Whoa. Ever heard of a delete key? This thing’s waaaay too long. The hell you people going on about here?

One of Us: Oh, um. Well, some of us are waving these We💙Dennis flags.

💀: Don’t do that.

Some of Us: OK, sure. No problem.  

☠️☠️☠️☠️ Dead Posse: Nether Regions Road is paved with dumbass intentions waving SOS flags just like those.

All of Us [whispering]: What about  fireworks or a stadium wave? Or a cheer?! Give me a D! Give me and E! Give me an N!--

💀: I can still hear you. Like nails on a chalkboard. And, wow. Just no.

Dead Posse

One of Us/Not the Mom: Oh, my goodness. How sweet. Look, Den's already made some friends on the other side!

💀: Does this thing come with Cliff Notes, or what? No?!? Whew boy. Yeah, I’m out.

One Smartass of Us/Aunty Marcia: Um, well, that was kind of the point. The ‘you’re out’ part.    
#Finished    #Kaput     #Elsewhere    #SleepingWithSalmon

💀: Wait. What the--? Are those my BABY pictures? You have Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me. Who thought this was a good idea? Ma! That was your call, right?

☠️☠️️☠️☠️️️️ Dead Posse : LOAO

Little Denny in Germany

Most of Us: Um, you mean was this Not the Mom’s idea? Uhhh... sure... right... yep. Works for the Rest of Us!  

Not the Mom:  Sorry, Den! Yes, that one’s on Not the Mom!  Be right back! Have to powder my nose/wash the wheel marks off.  
#BanksyDidIt #AdultingSucks   #PancakedUnderBus   #TakesOneForTheScaredyCats

💀: So this is what I get for not leaving instructions about What Not to Do When I Die? Here you go, post-mortem: This site is What Not to Do when I die.

💋💋👙 Kim: Oooohhh! Like What Not To Wear! Clever, babe. Oh, but way more serious.    
#ReelingItIn   #WriteAWillOrWishYouDid

💀: Why can’t you people behave like other families and just write an obit? Name, dates, facts. That’s why they HAVE obituaries; you glance at it and get on with your day. Nobody has this much time to read about someone who’s alive, much less someone who’s not. You people do know I’m DEAD, right?

All of Us: Yes, we do! Whew! One of Us/Aunty Marcia thought maybe you didn’t, though.

Then Most of Us got to thinking...what would the neighbors think if this Really Salty Dead Guy 💀 decided to show up in our little pink houses?? There’d be all those pesky HOA fines for violating regulation 1,467: No deceased relatives are permitted to haunt our pristine gated community by pushing up its fake daisies.

We were left with no choice, but luck was with us, as Not the Mom lost the Rock Paper Scissors bet to Michael, our emergency team captain.

So Not the Mom had to tell 💀 one big fat Greek whopper (Go, us!): #NotYourMamasBurgerKingWhopper

Not the Mom: OK, sure, Den. We hear you, honey. No worries. O-b-i-t-u-a-r-y it is! 😜

Go team! Since Dennis’s debate skills were legendary, laced with MMA styled techniques, we knew if he'd not been D.O.A. to the convo, he’d have taken us out in the first round, with one carefully placed language arts punch. 👊 No, he would not actually deck us, people. Duh. It’s like a mixed up metaphor. ←And that one’s a grammatically challenged simile. 😁

💀 has already noted that we can be unreasonable (read: irrational/generally unstrung), but since the Grim Asshat Reaper prevented 💀 being physically here to argue every possible point (and yes he would 100% do that), we’ve ignored any real and imagined protestations and seized a big fat Greek megaphone to profess our love and admiration for him.  

And to keep our community ghost-free 👻, we included Quizzical Cliff Notes in this “obituary”!

Asshat Reaper

‌Well, sort of. 🙈🙊🙉  You see, once we started, we really couldn’t stop. (Discipline is clearly not our strong suit.)

But all of this is his own fault.  

Look, Dennis suffered from an inconvenient and chronic condition known as humility--one of his few failings in life 😞. And he made the mistake of leaving behind any bragging rights to an irresponsible Group of Us. #SucksToBeTheDeadGuy

Unsolved Mystery: His aversion to boasting makes no sense, of course, and Some of Us think it's against our David Beckham religion because we pretty much toot our own horns whenever a fleeting charitable thought accidentally trips over our minds. This mostly happens during meditation. Tip: just zip right back to your bellybutton and keep a sharp lookout for more Self-Centered Thoughts.  

What’s puzzling is Dennis's qualities and accomplishments were actually worth gloating about. So why an amusing pastime like bragging never struck a chord in him is mystifying, especially when you can blast social media with Nothing Worth Noting, and turn yourself into an Inexplicably Self-Important Influencer overnight. To test this, do what we do and just make out with your ego and post a selfie, alerting strangers to your latest self-glorification cause:

My Teensy Weensy Thoughts Matter | I Fasted for 3 Hours And Here’s What Happened! | Don’t Be A Hater: Moronic Posts Can Change The World | If You Like My Dumbass Image I’ll ❣️Yours | Look At Me Look At Me Look At Me #VapidIsTheNewCool  #HeroCookie  

projects at Aunty Leesa's (North Carolina)

It seems unfair that someone with an overabundance of commendable qualities also nabbed the humble gene. If you ask us, hogging all the good DNA is just in bad form. Genuinely cool people can be so greedy! But, if it’s any consolation, they apparently kick the bucket long before the rest of us. #SingItBillyJoel  This means at 97, we’ll probably still be alive and kicking and way more pissy. But happily, we’ll look 29. So much to look forward to!   #PissyPeopleOutliveRoachesAfterTheBomb    #90IsTheNew29

Dennis always believed he could learn from others and spent his life trying to do more and do better. Um. Hello? What’s so bad about mediocrity? It suits Most of Us just fine, thank you very much. For starters, we have more time to fritter away liking and subscribing to nonsensical posts like Average is Awesome. Priorities, people!

Also, Most of Us have the decency to think we know it all. When Dennis learned something to the fullest extent possible (and he would), he was confident but not boastful. Annoying, right? We hear ya. Being more practiced in this bragging skill, we’ve put that to good use by attempting to illustrate just how unusual Dennis James Lord 11 was.

OK, so we attempted it, but we’re nothing like him, #DuhCaptainObvious so we did not excel at it. In spite of this stupendous verbose effort (One of Us/Not the Mom really could have used that delete key), the only thing we succeeded at was that we bombed 💣 at capturing his unique person-hood. Hey! You try describing someone who moved through life like some kind of wicked cool superhero.  


There’s really no way to do him the kind of justice he deserves, but if you knew him, then you know our characterization of Dennis as one BadAss human being is not hyperbole, not exaggeration, nothing but the BadAss truth. Dennis James Lord 11, the sole inspiration for all this babbling hoopla, was the Real Deal.
#CrackerJack  #RealMccoy #PieceDeResistance

And while much of the planet seems to have made friends with this guy 😀🌎😀, for the 2 or 3 people who never met him, we offer our sincere condolences because you missed out. Big time. As in all your FOMO dreams and nightmares have totally come true.

This Giddy for Dennis post-mortem dedication, spelled like o-b-i-t-u-a-r-y, 🙈 with Cliff Notes 📓thrown in for the Stiff, is a testament to our stubborn belief that the world ought to celebrate someone who was this authentically spectacular.   #CoolCukeEndangeredSpeciesList

With loud 📣 love,‌‌
           Den’s P.I.T.A. fam

Dennis at Grandpa's (Florida)

Now let’s get to it!

Play Uncle Bob's Raise A Glass 🍺 Game

Let’s Toast a Life Lived to the Fullest and Then Some

Hardware: mugs, glasses, kegs, bottles, or small buckets to hold drinks‌‌
Software: liquid spirits and/or stimulants‌‌‌‌
Game Rules‌‌
Non-alcoholic beverages only for those under 21, if you prefer mocktails, or if you are a Child Drinker Trapped in an Adult’s Body and answer to the name of Lees, Leesa, Baby, or Adult Beverage Slayer.‌‌

In the company of friends, every time you see🍸, raise a glass to Dennis and take a sip! We’d love to know he’s still inspiring others to celebrate the joy of the moment. 😎 Let’s drink to that. 🍸

Warning: Do not read + drink while driving or while pregnant or while pregnant driving or while driving pregnant people around or people in labor or giving birth, or while operating things that plug into other things or while doing stuff that requires at least one functioning brain cell, which is most of the stuff. Call an Uber, people.  Cheers!

Uncle Bob w/Mike practicing their drinking skills at a brewery (2015 Florida)

Pointless Reader Reviews

☠️☠️️☠️ Reviewed by Dead Posse ‌‌
Trippy, man. 3 skulls for the Drinking Game. Uncle Bob sounds cool.

📚🚵🏿‍⛺️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Bob, Mod Renaissance English Teacher Cycling Across Continents Sleeping in a Tent Taking Fine Arts Images & Reading Books Walking in Forests Like Stephen King & Buddhist Monks‌‌
Right on, Dead Posse. 🍺

💋💋👙 Reviewed by Kim, Only Living Beach Babe in Mars New York ‌‌
Oh! Love it! “Who you gonna call?!” Sexy Dead Posse! Woo hoo! I’ll cheers to that!    
(" "Ray Parker Jr., Ghostbusters)

☆☆☆ Not Reviewed by 💀 This Is A Question Not a Review‌‌
Kim! What would compel a person to flirt with a group of dead men who, from the looks of it, have done more than a nickel or dime upstate?

💋💋👙 Reviewed by Kim, Only Living Beach Babe in Mars New York

☆☆☆ Not Reviewed by 💀 This Is The Answer Not a Review ‌‌
Nothing! Nothing would compel you, Kim. Dead Posse is not a deceased boy band. They do not play around. Do us both a favor and do not draw their attention, OK?

🏋🏋☆ Reviewed by Jason A., Built Like Ronnie Coleman but Fraidy Cat of Dead Posse‌‌
Oh, hey,💀, uh,  sure, buddy, we’re hearing you loud and clear on that. Absofreakinlutely! That’s a standalone enthusiastic response from me, not necessarily followed by action. [Sweats profusely, Mops face] Look, uh, so I’ve got Kimmy’s back. Sort of. I mean I’m not going to, you know, do something reckless, like stand in front of her. But, hey, tell you what I can do. I’ll stand next to her. Yeah, how’s that? Standing right by her side, man. Maybe just south of the equator. More like slightly behind, you know, just in case. Hey, so thankGodfully Uncle Joe’s serving up strong drink for this off the charts funsies Deerhunter game.

💪💪☆ Reviewed by Uncle Tom, Trophy Marine Who Married a Sharpshooter‌‌
Jason A! It's FUBAR time. Zero stars. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Forget Uncle Bob’s weak sauce game. 👎 Let the eye candy jarheads show you how it’s done.  
#SemperFi   #Don’tMessWithAMarine

🍁🍄💼☆ Reviewed by Drummer Jonah, One Man Boy Band Baby Faced Ted Talking Jiu-Jitsu Practicing CEO CAO CDO CFO CIO CMO COO‌‌
Dead Posse’s dope. Speaking of which, Some of Us are partying with a twist…

#Rock-N-RollTobacco #CousinDenChillaxitives #GoodHerb

‌🙅🙅☆ Reviewed by The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena
‌‌FUBAR is apt. I’m stuck on page one and it’s already quite painful. Stop it with the flags.  Am I the only one who’s died and gone directly to hashtag hell? Totally with Den on the need for some measure of restraint. Forget the delete key. This needs gasoline and a well lit match. Really, Not the Mom?! Tradition has its merits. Obits are concise. They’re effective. And don’t typically bring on migraines. Or require multiple shots of gin. Wait! MY baby pictures are on this? That is just so messed up. We’re already subjected to 617 pages (yes, I counted) of a poorly constructed manuscript, with no plot, weird characters, and a questionable theme. Den, you really should have left instructions. When I sober up, which might take days given the length of this disaster, I’m writing a self-obituary, the recognizable kind, Not the Mom, one that doesn’t have an identity crisis and that will keep people I know from turning down an invitation to my own future traditional and elegant funeral occasion. No one I know or hope to know would willingly experience this type of postmortem train wreck. I’m taking my laptop to Uncle Joe’s 2 Star Bar. He’s the only one I know with enough emergency booze on hand to dull my senses.

📓📓☆ Reviewed by Quizzical Cliff Notes Pretending to be Shortcut Stiff Notes
What she said.

Uncle Joe at his 2 Star Bar + Peaches the Apprentice

📚🚵🏿‍⛺️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Bob, Mod Renaissance English Teacher blahblahblah‌‌...
F.U.B.A.R. sums it up nicely. I’d call it the Hemingway Method: Write Drunk, Edit Sober, but I can’t detect any signs of editing life.

🌲📖☆ Reviewed by Jimbo, Fluent in Henry David Thoreau ‌‌
“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.” So, if you think about it, this in-between place, called Not an Obit, is hell, or, if you're Catholic, a Purgatory rest stop.  
(" "Henry David Thoreau, BrainyQuote)

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Ghost of George Carlin Counter-Culture Hero Famed for Routines about Drugs, Dirty Words like “taxes” and the Demise of Humanity, thereby a Fitting Party Guest for Not an Obit  ‌‌
"I’m always relieved when someone is delivering a eulogy and I realize that I’m listening to it.” Even one like this that requires cocktails, bathroom breaks, daily exercise, meal service and 5 changes of clothes.
(" "George Carlin, Reuters)

🐥🐥☆ Reviewed by Great Aunty Pat Rogers, Who's the New 29 ‌‌
Tsk. Tsk. I've never, in any situation, including war, strife, and famine, lowered my personal standards to that of “pissy.” This word lacks class. The rest of this is fine as I’m not inclined to read one more page of it. But, Not the Mom, please revisit your gauche word choice. Now I’m off to play bridge, garden, host a book club, volunteer at the thrift shop, and attend tonight’s dance. Ta-ta!

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Chris Rock, Desperately Seeking A Girl Named Susan With A Fake British Accent Who Knows Where the Emergency Exit Door Is‌
“If a woman tells you she’s twenty and looks sixteen, she’s twelve. If she tells you she’s twenty-six and looks twenty-six, she’s damn near forty.” So, Aunty Pat, you look about 40, so that makes you, what, 147?
(" " Chris Rock, Humorpedia)

⭐⭐⭐ Reviewed by Tyler Henry, Heavily Perspiring Size Small Hollywood Medium
Im already sweating, was actually perspiring in my subzero shower this morning after my healthy bowl of quinoa, a combination that keeps unfriendly Casper types away. An apple a day and all that. Tee hee. Goodness. I see I’ve drawn 400 tiny champagne glasses 🍸on my little notebook, so I’m predicting a drunken population and a lot of delicate glassware washing. Does anyone have an object I can hold in my highly intuitive hand? Great. Thank you so much. Let’s see what comes through from this miniature skull 💀 icon. Oh, so cute! Mmmhmm...yes, I see. OK, can someone please confirm that this is an abysmal attempt at a tribute spelled like “obituary” for an inexplicably unassuming young man who passed suddenly? Great. Thank you, Only Adult in the Room, for raising your index finger to confirm this. Yes, he’s showing me my symbol 👪 for abject misery...well, hmmm...this is unusual. Most of my dead peeps are floating high as a kite on a vicodin-like bliss cloud because they’ve finally escaped their whacko relatives who stalk them after death. I’ve made a career out of assisting these cuckoo birds but no one minds because I’m unspeakably kind and compassionate. Isn’t it a shame, but a blessing for me, of course, that living people are not accustomed to being treated well and spoken to in soft hypnotic tones. ASMR is a nice tonic if you’re not rich and famous. Hmm. Oh... hmm... ooooohhhh...my….not sure exactly what this is. He’s asking for heavy metal music blasted into noise-canceling earphones 🙉 and a sleep mask 🙈. Oh, I see! A lot is coming through now. He's saying 400 glasses of alcohol won't be sufficient to dull his agitated dead sensibilities. Well, dearly beloved nutcase mourners, I hope I’ve been a helpful healer! I'm off to the next nuthouse, chauffeured and chaperoned by my mom. I'll take one of Aunty Leesa's fake drinks to go! Cheers!

🙅🙅☆ Reviewed by The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena‌‌
💀! Not happening. No headset, no mask. I’m not doing this alone, Den.

📚🚵🏿‍⛺️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Bob, Mod Renaissance English Teacher blahblahblah‌‌...
Hollywood Size Small Medium, “an abysmal attempt at a tribute spelled like ‘obituary’ for an inexplicably unassuming young man who passed suddenly” is a legit thesis statement summation of this unfolding shit-storm. A few supporting examples might strengthen it. But all in all, it hits the right scatological note.

🐥🐥☆ Reviewed by Great Aunty Pat Rogers Who's the New 29
Now a satin sleep mask is a classy ask. My great nephew 💀 was such a handsome and well-groomed young man. He could never settle into an impressive bean-counter corner office like My Bill, but he was charming, well-spoken, and well-mannered. I never heard him use words like “pissy.” Is handsome Drummer Jonah here? He's the living embodiment of CTO beauty, COO class, and CEO style. Just like My Bill.

🔢🏢☆ Reviewed by My Bill, Bean Counter With A Cushy Corner Office‌‌
My Bill’s Mom, let’s boogie. I’ve got CFO beans to count and you’ve got social lives to crush.

⭐☆☆ Reviewed by Dazed & High(ly) Confused Internet Surfer‌‌‌‌
Never heard of the dead dude. I'd say R.I.P., man, but this party crowd doesn't look like they're about that sort of traditional sendoff.  Aunty Pat sounds pretty pissy to me, but what do I know? “I only came here to do two things, kick some ass, and drink some beer. Looks like we’re almost outta beer.”  
(" "Dazed and Confused)  

🔢🏢☆ Reviewed by My Bill, Bean Counter With A Cushy Corner Office‌‌
[U-turns, Raises Fists, Commits to a confusing CFO Muhammad Ali Fighter Stance]

☠️☠️☠️ Reviewed by Dead Posse
‌‌Yo, Dazedy Dukes/Confused Clint KickSomeAss! Listen up. We can GPS you in more than one universe. And we know your crib.

💋💋👙 Reviewed by Kim, Only Living Beach Babe in Mars New York ‌‌
Swoon. Dead Posse, you had me at Yo.  
#ZombieCrushing   #SmoochInvite

🏋🏋☆ Reviewed by Jason A., Built Like Ronnie Coleman but Fraidy Cat of Dead Posse     ‌‌
[Dives, Rolls into fetal position under granite counter]

☆☆☆ Not Reviewed by 💀 This is an Order Not a Review   ‌‌
Kim! Do not flirt with dead people. I repeat, stop coming on to dead men. I mean, other than me.

💋💋👙 Reviewed by Kim, Only Living Beach Babe in Mars New York‌‌
Oh, hi, babe! I knew that sweet-talkin' would work! Go me!! Hey, hon, while I’ve got you, do you have our Netflix password?

☆☆☆ Not Reviewed by 💀 This is a Request Not a Review‌‌

💋💋👙 Reviewed by Kim, Only Living Beach Babe, in Mars New York
Awwww...Wordtastic! Thanks, babe! Love you!! Kiss, kiss!

🏋🏋☆ Reviewed by Jason A., Built Like Ronnie Coleman but Fraidy Cat of Dead Posse"
[Whispering to the fake guard dogs] Hey, so am I the only one that noticed Dead Posse went from ☠️☠️☠️️☠️ to ☠️☠️☠️ ?  Does this mean they offed one of their own over there?

🍑☆🍑 Reviewed by Chandler, Peaches & Crème de Menthe
But, aren't they like already like dead?

🐶💂🐶 Reviewed by Lucy and Lola, Fake Guard Dogs Only Afraid of Their Own Reflections and Shadows
Delicious Sounding Boy, hate to break it to you, but there's this place called Hades. To answer your concern, Fraidy Cat Jason, yes, we noticed, and you're a lone meow, so watch your back. Or find Aunt Nancy.

🍻🍷☆ Reviewed by Uncle Joe, the Drinking Bartender w/a Hero Complex‌‌
Captain Plantastic here! Did I hear someone say we're running low on pints?? No Trader Joe’s today! This is a job for Super Costco!  To the batpole, Robin!

🍑☆🍑 Reviewed by Chandler, Peaches & Crème de Menthe ‌‌
Wait! Who’s Robin? Is it Robin’s bar or Uncle Joe’s? I just tried to load the site on my phone and my I-cloud started, to like, I don’t know, have like a panic attack. There are like way too many words. Hey, guys, do we have to like, read this, whatever this is?

🍻🍻☆ Reviewed by Joey, Man of Few but Slurred Words‌‌
I heard there were Stiff Notes. Or a Quiz. But I’m pretty loaded so not 129% on that.  

🍑☆🍑 Reviewed by Chandler, Peaches & Crème de Menthe ‌‌
There’s a test? Like what kind of test?! Does that mean we have to like read it, then?!

🎵🎵☆ Reviewed by Jazz /J:Essential, Poppa Bear’s Baby Bear  ‌‌
Be eazy, bro.  I brought my sounds to drown out all this noise. Warning: not responsible for eargasms.    
#DontEvenTrip   #ColorByNumbers

💪💪☆ Reviewed by Uncle Tom, Trophy Marine Who Married a Sharpshooter
Soldier Down, Peaches! Stop drawing fire to your panic attacked position. It irritates the Rest of Us in this godforsaken foxhole. If there’s any testing interrogation required, I’m in charge. Again, let the good-looking jarheads show you how it’s done.  
#Don’tMessWithAMarine   #SemperFi  

🗣🗣☆ Reviewed by Aunty Marcia, Don’t Make Me Use My HR Director Voice
‌‌Boys, boys, and GQ marines, calm yourselves. More than relatives of the Dead Guy, we’re Uninvited Guests at Uncle Joe’s 2 Star Bar. Chandler, honey, Robin is Batman’s fictional sidekick. But Batman is real, just like Santa. The only required reading from Uninvited Guests is that of labels. Actually, Some of Us/Joey and I have been here since this mimosas, I mean this morning for pre-drinking activities and not-waiting for the big reveal. We’ve been LOAO at videos of Chandler’s dramatic, exclamation marked childhood.

🐔🍺☆ Reviewed by Uncle George, Living Mindfully for Wings & Beer‌‌
Speak for yourself. I had to watch the game with my face plastered against my Ipad. Can't find my reading glasses.

🗣🗣☆ Reviewed by Aunty Marcia, Don’t Make Me Use My HR Director Voice‌‌
Plastered is the best way to do this. And, George, honey, you always think ahead. I brought my readers, but if it gets ugly and Not the Mom starts requiring actual reading, I’ll just step outside and run my BMW over them.  

🎯🎯☆ Reviewed by Aunt Nancy, Sharpshooter Who Married a Trophy Marine‌‌
Oh, how quaint. Very urban. I don’t need machinery for small tasks like obliterating glass. A rural youth of growing up on a farm has its perks. I crushed my readers with the sharpened point of my high heel. Then I took out my handgun and shot the frames into small particles of dust. My goodness, isn’t Aunty Leesa’s house charming? Such a cozy beach cottage feel. Does anyone have a light? I don’t smoke, of course, because it’s disgusting and causes death, but I wouldn’t mind a puff or two of a Cuban cigar. They go so well with jack-n-coke. Be back in a jiff!  I’m just going to run to the lady’s room and touch up my meticulously applied lipstick.

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Brooke Shields‌‌
“Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost an important part of your life.” Harmful obituaries like this can also kill, so please read the really long warning label.
(" "Brooke Shields, Brainy Quote)   #WeCan’tMakeThisUp

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Sienna Miller‌‌
Affirmations really help. I adore emaciated cigarettes, plus-size cigars, and Drummer Jonah’s Mama Bear bliss bowls. “I love them. Love them. I think the more positive approach you have to smoking, the less harmful it is.” However, I don’t like death, never have, never will.
(" "Sienna Miller, Quote Master)   #WeCanOnlyMakeUpSomeOfIt

🙅🙅☆ Reviewed by The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena‌‌
Aunt Nancy, please place your firearm in Aunty Leesa’s Weapon Bowl for Uninvited Guests in the foyer, beside the sunglasses bowl and 3 degrees southwest of the Car Keys box. You can empty the bullets into the canister labeled Ammunition For Special Occasions/Family Reunions.

🍑☆🍑 Reviewed by Chandler, Peaches & Crème de Menthe‌‌
I can’t find the Stiff Notes!! What if Not the Mom starts, like, reading it aloud to us?!  

🍷⚡️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Joe, the Drinking Bartender w/a Hero Complex‌‌
Oh my stars and garters!” “My spider sense is tingling!” Not the Mom wouldn’t do that! [Dramatic pause] Or would she?!

🙅🙅☆ Reviewed by  The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena‌‌
Great. Now the bartender’s at risk. Please keep it together, Uncle Joe. A lot of people are depending on you. I, being both “lot” and “people” in that sentence.

🗣🗣☆ Reviewed by Aunty Marcia, Don’t Make Me Use My HR Director Voice‌‌
Peaches and Uncle Joe.  Be calm and drink on. Have no fear of Not the Mom. I can take her.

🏓💄🏡 ☆ Reviewed by Aunty Leesa, All I Dink About is Pickleball‌‌
Oh, how fun! An impromptu family reunion! I’ll just pop into the kitchen and whip up a Chicken, Foie, Quince and Cobnut Ravioli. And just for kicks, I’ll throw in a Few of My Favorite Things such as plating techniques, by creating height, cutting meat horizontally, playing with textures, using contrasting colors, the right plates, serving smaller sized portions, and including edible garnishes. Oh, wow, I hope we have enough ice for my own special drink, say 68 cubes, so I can dilute a well-crafted alcoholic beverage until it’s a flat club soda that has no taste whatsoever, so you know you’ve contracted Covid and don’t have to bother with a silly unreliable Covid test.

⭐☆☆ Reviewed by Facepalm Fauci, Whose Sensible-Speak Bounces Off Teflon Blockheads Who Think He's Speaking in Tongues‌‌
In this isolated and tortured reading lab, social distancing and face masks, other than Uncle Joe’s, would not prevent cataclysmic liver dysfunction. The upside is that Corona, in any of its forms except beer, would not be able to penetrate the bloodstream in its current condition of toxic inebriation.

🍷⚡️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Joe, the Drinking Bartender w/a Hero Complex‌‌
Holy not hot doctor! I’m on it! Let the lethal weapon cocktails begin!

🏓💄🏡 ☆ Reviewed by Aunty Leesa, Pickleball Star-Dill With It‌‌
Not sure what Dr. Facepalm’s in such a huff about, but I’m going to take this fashion opportunity to change into something more suitable for a Not An Obituary. I’ll don a girly ballcap and scale my Jumping into Fashion Emergencies Ladder then plunge from various heights into a pair of adorable juniors jeggings. I’ll finish the informal but fetching look with a We💙Dennis Kimono robe, a product of 10,000 silkworms giving their lives in support of ludicrous but necessary fashion trends. Joey, be a dear and pluck a fresh blue, blue, and bluer bouquet from our charming secret garden while I light 329 white candles for a casual and inviting touch of ambience. Oh, and please turn on our pinterest perfect fireplace that Den built on his 30 minute lunch break, in between painting the house three times and renovating the Fake Dog Bathing Station while he was on his last quick relaxing DIY here.  [Bursts into hysterical tears, Runs dramatically from room]

🆘🆘☆ Reviewed by Patrick + Topher, his Spirit Twin1-911-MourningForDummies‌‌
Aunty Leesa, please return to your station. As an Essential Worker, you are required to show up and concentrate, regardless of past, present, or impending doom. Amid Covid travel restrictions and a global recession, restaurant dining experiences are non-existent; thus, ravenous people everywhere are turning to massive quantities of undiluted alcohol and fashion-forward gastronomes like yourself to forge a path to satiation and beyond, by turning wildly convoluted recipes into something deconstructed and unrecognizable, yet edible.

☆☆☆ Not Reviewed by 💀 This is an Instruction‌‌
Lees! Only buy ladders at Home Depot.  Just like pickleball, there’s no crying in construction, but I can’t even look at that 28 minute fireplace. Not my best work. 29 minutes would have had better results--

🐔🍺☆ Reviewed by Uncle George, Living Mindfully for Wings & Beer‌‌
Hey, not to interrupt your cock and bull rant for doing the pinterest fireplace, 💀,‌‌ which by definition requires interrupting in this exact way, but, Aunty Leesa’s coming back, right?  Isn’t she the one making the ravioli?  

🍁🍄💼☆ Reviewed by Drummer Jonah, One Man Boy Band blahblahblah...
I got hung up on the Kamikaze worms. The Essential Well-dressed Gastronome Worker made it sound as if they threw themselves off a curb and plummeted to a really mushy, unattractive death. Also, I don’t think we should talk about insects and dinner in single or combined sentences. I do not understand the purpose of any type of grass that provides cover to tiny depressed creatures that go squish in the dark. I’m going to need hella more bowls for this experience. And a whiteboard, so I can track innovative ideas, priorities, and the overall strategic narrative.  

🙅🙅☆ Reviewed by The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena‌‌
Drummer Jonah, the fact that you believe a strategic narrative might exist is enough to tempt me to smoke my mind on one of those bowls.

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Snoop Dog, Who Once Briefly Converted to Snoop Lion‌‌
Fo shizzle. "The more medicated the more dedicated."
(" " Snoop Dog, InspiringQuotes)

📚🚵🏿‍⛺️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Bob, Mod Renaissance English Teacher blahblahblah...
I concur. Dulled senses might be the only way to go here. While I’m working on that, here’s a quick correction for Chandler Peach’s Stiff notes. Silkworms are found in trees, not grass. Drummer Jonah, you might want to ease up on those bowls, buddy.

🍑☆🍑 Reviewed by Chandler, Peaches & Crème de Menthe‌‌
I believe in narratives! I believe in like ghosts too! But there’s no whiteboard in here for taking notes!!  

🎯🎯☆ Reviewed by Aunt Nancy, Sharpshooter Who Married a Trophy Marine‌‌
Gosh! I hope Aunty Leesa’s coming back! Without my neatly shredded eyewear, there’s an excellent chance I’ve mistaken 146 exclamation points for champagne glass cues. I’ve had so many jack-n-cokes, I’m seeing celebrities and hearing dead people, and George, starved of ranch dressing and hot wings, is not just speaking with them, he’s also sacrificed both manners and decorum in his current ravenous state. We could use something substantial to absorb these drinks. The Sweaty Medium’s bowl of quinoa sounds lovely, or a bowl of pasta. A gigantic painter’s sponge from Home Depot would also do the alcohol absorption trick. And, gosh, I’m just dying for a lovely panatela.

☆☆☆ Not Reviewed by 💀 This is an Observation
‌‌From experience, the dying part is cake. It’s the after death headache with pictures that kills.

🍁🍄💼☆ Reviewed by Drummer Jonah, One Man Boy Band blahblahblah...
Aunt Nancy, here’s a bowl full of more mellow options. Chandler de menthe, to access the hidden compartment labeled Boardroom Emergency Equipment, move the fluffy white rug.
#CannabisAlternative    #Leesa'sPanicRoomForTheStars

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Cameron Crowe, Neighbor to the Non-Stars and Frequently Uninvited Guest at Uncle Joe’s 2 Star Bar‌‌
Aunt Nancy, don’t take drugs. Would almost everyone here who’s not famous care for me to almost sign my autograph?

❓❓⭐ Reviewed by Hunter, Grace & Jackson Lord‌‌
Sure! What are you famous for?

⭐☆⭐ Reviewed by Pitt Brad Pitt Crashing Fake Obit Parties With His Face‌‌
Aunt Nancy, stay off the bowl for the sake of at least 5 of your 17 kids. When they go to college or start acting in movies on the umbilical cord attached to their famous parents’ names, you’ll be around 83, the new 29. Then feel free to light one up. Younger Sibs, Cameron’s a big important director that I made cry like a little girl who lost her puppy. The insured features of my face have that effect on greedy directors who pimp me out to sell tickets. Some of them don’t know I can act. I can’t remember which ones right now. Don’t take drugs. My heartthrob looks prevent them from hearing the Academy Award lines I sometimes remember and emit from my perfectly shaped mouth. When I turned down Cameron’s role, can’t recall which one, he cried like a giant baby who’s suddenly been weaned. I’m Pitt, Brad Pitt, famous for being too sexy for anyone’s good. I have a lot of big important film credits to my name, Pitt, Brad Pitt, but I can’t think of any titles right now. Don’t take drugs. The most important thing, and the thing that matters most to all my fans, which is everybody in this world, and if I’m being honest, in the next world too. Ditto me on that, Dead Posse? [Dead Posse fist bumps]---the most important thing is that I’ve never forgotten my own name. Not once. I’m Pitt, Brad Pitt. Let me repeat that. Just in case. Don’t do drugs, kids. Here. I’ll sign my first, last, and middle, Pitt Brad Pitt.

❓❓⭐ Reviewed by Hunter, Grace & Jackson Lord‌‌
OK, great, Pitt Brad Pitt, but can you do Jennifer Aniston’s instead?

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Adam Levine, Wedding Crashing Poser Who Can Sing Not Dance ‌‌
Pitt Brad Pitt, can you sing? Try crashing some weddings, man. Really pisses off the groom and the actual band. So, pretty rewarding.

⭐☆⭐ Reviewed by Pitt Brad Pitt Crashing Fake Obit Parties With His Face‌‌
Thanks, bro. You can’t dance or I’d tuck a buck. Don’t know if I can sing. Never tried it. My voice is owned by 7 insurance companies, but it’s OK, because I won’t remember this convo. I’m sure I’d pick up another Oscar crashing into a wedding with one of my fast cars; they’re decked out with beck-n-call dashboard chauffeurs, who live in them 24-7 in case I need to get somewhere on a moment’s notice. Fist bump to Uncle Joe, who seems to have some special powers there too, man. But I’m an actor, so I can adapt. Like Great Aunty Pat and the Slim Sweaty Medium, I’d crush it as an excessively handsome groom who doesn’t drive, and I think we can all agree, I’d be doing the bride a solid. Can I drop my autograph on you to say thanks for the tip?

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Mr. Prank Clooney Voted Most Likely to Steal Other People’s Thunder in H.S.‌‌
Pitt, Brad Pitt, step aside. This wedding crasher role has my name all over it. Suave and Sophisticated. Those are actually my middle names, so it’s fated. I waited until I turned the new 29 to take this simple two word vow because I believe in life sentences. Also, my handmade custom tailored wedding tux that cost 800,000 silkworms their lives, will come in handy for this gig as it can be worn for all occasions, even walking fake dogs. Drummer Jonah, I recommend orthopedic shoes for lawns and royal weddings.

❓❓⭐ Reviewed by Hunter, Grace & Jackson Lord
‌‌Mr. Prank Clooney, can we please have Amal’s autograph?

🙅🙅☆ Reviewed by The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena‌‌
Life sentences, death sentences, solitary confinement, whatever. This is what you’re worried about? I’m trapped in an atrocious and unacceptable social injustice experiment that defies logic or explanation. Talk to the hand, Mr. Amal.

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Cameron Crowe, Neighbor to the blahblahblah‌‌...
Pitt Brad Pitt, I’m taking what’s left of my ego and heading out.

⭐☆⭐ Reviewed by Pitt Brad Pitt Crashing Fake Obituary Parties With His Face‌‌
Tough crowd. Right behind you with my Pitt Brad Pitt Tall Drink of Champagne Self. Sorry, folks, I realize the room’s about to lose its luster, so feel free to light up Aunt Leesa’s candles or Drummer Jonah’s bowls in my absence. Not you, Aunt Nancy.

❓❓⭐ Reviewed by Hunter, Grace & Jackson Lord‌‌
SuperSpiderBartenderMan, we’d each like Aunt Leesa’s Ruined Vodka and Soda drink please. And also, can we get your autograph?!

🍷⚡️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Joe, the Drinking Bartender w/a Hero Complex‌‌
[Signing drink coasters] Only if you’re underage. Her drink should never be consumed by adults. “With great power, comes great Responsibility,’ kids.”  
(" "Stan Lee, Spiderman, Rotten Tomatoes)

🕵🕵☆ Reviewed by Dennis Lord the 1st, Den II Precursor Prototype DNA Parent, Spy Novelist Fluent In 3 Languages From Watching The Bourne Supremacy‌‌
Grace, Hunter, and Jackson, оставаться рядом [stay nearby] and bleiben bei‌‌ [stick with] Aunty Leesa’s Shirley Temple, and don’t leave fingerprints.

❓❓⭐ Reviewed by Grace Lord
‌‌Понятно [Got it.]

❓❓⭐ Reviewed by Hunter Lord‌‌
Verstanden [Understood.]

❓❓⭐ Reviewed by Jackson Lord‌‌
Nessun problema. [No problem.]

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Jason Bourne Who Does Not Know He is Matt Damon‌‌
Impressive Spy kids, I was Bourne this way. Nice try, Amateur Precursor Prototype blahblahblah. But here’s more professional coolspyspeak: Take signatures, but don’t leave any. Spy kids, “I can tell you the license plate numbers of all 326 cars” parked in Uncle Joe’s driveway. ‘ I can tell you”...our bartender “is left-handed and” Uncle George, “the guy at the counter weighs 300 pounds and knows how to handle himself,” including begging Aunty Leesa for ravioli. “I know the best place to look for a gun” is in Aunty Nancy’s Kate Spade bag because assassins don’t take Container Store bait, ”and at this drunken altitude, I can run flat out for a half mile before my hands start shaking. Now why would I know that? How can I know that and not know who I am?”    
(" " The Bourne Identity)   #QuotationMarkCreditsForDummies

🙅🙅☆ Reviewed by The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena‌‌
MattJason, we’re all going down in the same identity crisis boat. Just like you, this Not an Obituary has no idea who it is or what its actual purpose is in the world.

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Jason Bourne Who Does Not Know He is Matt Damon‌‌
Ouch. Hella harsh parental style reprimand. Geez, I was just asking.

❓❓⭐ Reviewed by Hunter, Grace & Jackson Lord‌‌
JasonMatt, please sign any name that comes to mind on this napkin. Thanks.

🕵🕵☆ Reviewed by Dennis Lord the 1st, Den II Precursor blahblahblah...

🙅🙅☆  Reviewed by The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena
‌‌Aunt Nancy, before I start tearing my hair out one strand at a time, I’d like to point out that you’ve used the words Death, Dead, and Dying in your last two reviews. I’m going out on a limb here, but this suggests that you might be the only person in the room besides me and Maroon 5 who grasps that this site is some form of obituary in which Not the Mom has spent 617 head-splitting pages raving about a dead superhero.

🍑☆🍑 Reviewed by Chandler, Peaches & Crème de menthe‌‌
Is this the part where we like wave the flags?!!  

🍷⚡️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Joe, the Drinking Bartender w/a Hero Complex‌‌
Thanks for the reminder, Only Adult. Friends and Strangers, can we have a moment of silence, please, for those killed in the line of cape duty?  St Thunderhead. Stratogale. Meta Man. Dynaguy. Be restless in peace.

🎯🎯☆ Reviewed by Aunt Nancy, Sharpshooter Who Married a Trophy Marine‌‌
Darlena, not to be rude, but please get hold of yourself. You sound excessively sober, which is a euphemism for being impolite. I recommend one totally unexpected face slap or some light pistol whipping. And please do consider FUBAR. Handsome Uncle Tom and a million less good-looking people simply can’t be wrong about the benefits of inebriation. But, let’s be honest. This is an obituary on crack. It needs a treatment plan. If you hadn’t deconstructed my gun, I’d still be packing heat and could have emptied this celebrity slobstacle course with a few well placed The Bar is Closed hints. Instead, I’ve been subjected to witnessing Pitt Brad Pitt celebrating recalling his name as if his brain is concussed, I’m still hearing dead people’s voices, I have no cognac flavored Dutch Master to pair with  my jack-n-coke, and I am genuinely concerned that when I stumble out of here, I’ll have no idea in which of Aunt Leesa’s 468 labeled containers is my .357.  

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Jason Bourne Who Does No Know He is Matt Damon‌‌
[Wink wink] Copy that, Aunt Nancy.

⚠️⚠️☆ Reviewed by Uncle Barry, Poppa Bear & Substance Abuse Counselor on Permanent Standby‌‌
This is fifty shades of a lot to unpack. But, as a heavily licensed and, in this case, unfortunately sober professional, I’m broke and practiced in the art of understatement. For example, when I say you need 20 sessions, think 200. I beg each and every one of you to take my card. Good to see Pitt Brad Pitt will be on the wagon until he’s the new 29. These small celebratory moments tell us therapists that all our years of tedious sobriety and hard work will be rewarded for a very brief period of time. Thank you for that.

⭐☆☆ Reviewed by Dazed & High(ly) Confused Internet Surfer‌‌
"Alright, alright, alright."
(" "Matthew McConaughey Dazed and Confused adlib, Daily Mail)

🆘🆘☆ Reviewed by Patrick + Topher, his Spirit Twin 1-911-MourningForDummies‌‌
Hello, All of You who have reached and broken the spirit of the only technically speaking Support hotline: Please stop calling. If you are currently experiencing frustration beyond all reason regarding the complicated, emotional, and pointless star rating system in this Not an Obituary, please unplug your computing device and smash it against the nearest support wall in Uncle Joe’s 2 Star Bar. [Topher in Spirit: Sorry, bro, no dice on switching a decent celestial dirt nap for this.]

🚑🚑☆ Reviewed by Dr. Kathleen, Hastily Blocking Relatives on Iphone and Frantically Fishing for Surgical Pliers Which Can Be Used As A Weapon
‌‌Someone called for a doctor? I’m a pediatric surgeon, so perhaps there’s been some mistake?  

🙅🙅☆ Reviewed by The Only Adult In The Room/a.k.a. Darlena‌‌
[Sigh] Not a mistake. I made the call. At the time, it felt like a medical emergency. It’s in the same surgical spirit though. Aunt Nancy can’t find her gun. Can you please remove everyone?

🗣🗣☆ Reviewed by Aunty Marcia, Don’t Make Me Use My HR Director Voice‌‌
Now, now. Let’s not throw out the sextuplets with the carriage, or the famous hotties 🍸🍸with the regular folk. Dr. Kathleen, kiddie surgeon with scary pliers, all the handsome male celebrities can stay. Everyone else can and should run for their respective but unimpressive lives. Thank you for your service. [Addresses Lucy Bell, Fake Dog: Do we say that to doctors? Yikes, my vodka may have to be in charge of my talking going forward. ]

Extreme Doubtfire Volunteerism Rating Tallier w/a Fake British Accent Like Madonna: Mucking fuddle. Bloody hashtag hell. I’m utterly flummoxed, moreso than a terribly posh Kardashian in Wal-Mart. Aren’t the readers supposed to rate the article, no matter how ghastly it’s written? Also, I’ve moved quite a bit past that 2 sip count. Uncle Bob’s pint of Lager threw me off. I’ve lost track of time, space, and reality.

⭐⭐☆ Reviewed by Snoop Dog, Who Once Briefly Converted to Snoop Lion‌‌
If you stop at general math, you're only going to make general math money.”  
(" "Snoop Dog, InspiringQuotes)

⭐☆☆ Reviewed by Madonna Louise Ciccone, Late & Fashionably Uninvited
Whatever, Snoopy. "Listen, everyone is entitled to my opinion," so I’ll be a darling and share:  I’ve grown a bit bored with the tallies. And I really can’t afford to waste the natural talents of my delicate hand to fulfill your completely understandable celebrity autograph dreams; each of my exquisite digits is a work of art, insured, like Pitt Brad Pitt’s face to strike a pose and frame my flawless face. And, darling, my signature is awfully good, so if Uncle Joe’s silly tip jar scores 1400 GBP, I may reconsider my self-centered reason for being, and gently grasp a feather pen and ink bottle. Off to the loo, my countless fawning fans!  
(" " Madonna, Quotepark)

☆☆☆ Not Reviewed by 💀 This is Advice. Take it.‌‌
Don’t even skim it.

Little Denny and Darlena with Daddy (Germany)

In OTT loving memory of Dennis James Lord 11 (10-6-1982 - 7-27-2020)


Not the Mom

Not the Mom

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