Fake Obituaries |
Obituaries of people who never actually existed. For shits and/or giggles. |

Morton Plantanamo has died aged 32, of unnecessary roughness. At the time of his death he was approximately 12 minutes into the metaphorical quarter-hour of fame caused by his creating a mildly amusing website.
In July of 2012 Plantanamo created ‘Godshaming,’ a picture-oriented website on which people would submit photographs of their deities accompanied by hand-written signs outlining their recent transgressions. Within a month it had been featured as front-page news on the websites of publications that once claimed to be journalistic.
Examples of Godshaming content include the photograph of a divine being with a sign next to his face saying “I transformed myself into a goose and tried to seduce a milkmaid, not knowing she was allergic to down.” Another picture shows the head of an Eastern religion with the caption “I destroyed a small village to impress a goddess and she wasn’t even looking.”
Such was Godshaming’s popularity during September 2012 that the website claimed to have a backlog of several hundred submissions. Sales of white card, black marker pen, and holy entities grew more than threefold at this time.
Plantanamo’s inspiration for the site was purportedly a man trapped in a bin in the street. “He was cursing God for the predicament,” Morton said in a October 2012 interview in the New York Review of Books. “Swearing his face off, God this, God that. I was so taken with the idea of Godshaming that I forgot to help him out. He’s probably still there now!”
When not abandoning garbage dispenser-ensnared unfortunates, Morton enjoyed challenging people to tennis matches and running away. He was a black belt in scrapbooking, and in 1996 represented the US in the World Under-18 Not Being Upside-Down championships. He finished twelfth overall.
Morton is survived by a large collection of photographs of naked ladies looking shifty.
Morton Plantanamo, born 1980, died 2012. The author would like to make clear that he should have checked to see if Godshaming was actually a real website before writing this guff.
A hunter of global reknown
Digby’s manner was stronger than stone
With an eye sharp as razor
And the tenacity of laser
Not a moment of mercy was shown
-
No matter if big game or small
Grud delighted in stalking them all
Before a beast knew it
Grud’s missile passed through it
And its hide was already a shawl
-
In his trophy room, proud and distinct
Coats of feral fox, ermine and mink
Skin of tiger and bear
Heads of elephant, hare
And some species now believed extinct
-
But though kitted with rifles and armour
Grud’s final hunt ended in drama
It’s unclear what occurred
Though the doctors concurred
He was buggered to death by a llama
Born nineteen fifty
Died in two thousand and twelve
Not much in between
Solomon Bundy, born on a Monday
Died on a Monday
(But a different Monday)
-
Solomon Bundy, from the Bay of Fundy
His parents were fundies
Rarely having a fun day
-
Solomon Bundy, other children they shunned he
Never sports-selectioned-y
Always re-/de-jectioned he
-
Solomon Bundy, morbid rotundly
At eating contests he stunned the
Judge; won a Hyundai
-
Solomon Bundy, moved to Burundi
Was tragically gunned be-
-cause he looked like a hippo
-
Solomon Bundy, born 1966, died 2012. The funeral will be accompanied by hot dogs.
Because why the fuck not.

Doomsday sect founder Brian Starcade has died of obstacle courses in his home town of Wallet. He was 81.
Starcade rose to prominence in the mid-1960s when he loudly and publicly claimed that the world was going to end on July 17, 1848. Much of the populace found fault with his prediction, with many pointing out the incontrovertible fact that the world had not actually ended on July 17, 1948. Nevertheless, he gained a modest number of followers, all of whom pledged to prepare for an Armageddon that they expected to happen 120 years in the past.
Prior to his follower-gathering breakthrough, Starcade made several doomsday predictions that went unheeded. Commentators attributed this to the fact that Brian had not been wearing an impressive cape.
At its peak in 1971, the Starcade Doomsday Sect boasted over a thousand members. Prominent adherents included actress Anita Garden, Ruff-Ruff the Catapulting Dog, and Sir Anthony Westingmale, the former Archbishop of Durham.
Starcade’s rules for his followers were few, but non-negotiable. Hats were compulsory (allegedly owing to Starcade’s phobia of bald patches), and nobody was allowed to run while carrying hot coffee, unless the beverage container had a lid. Also, new adherents were forced to swear that they did not believe in Belgium.
When not making vastly inaccurate predictions regarding the end of the World, Starcade enjoyed jazz, detective fiction, and fisting. He once tried all three at the same time, and had to be rescued by the coastguard.
In the later years of his life, Starcade’s cult waned, as followers grew restless with the inability of the world to end in 1848. Perhaps because of this lessening enthusiasm, Brian amended his prediction in 1998, saying that the second coming of Christ would occur during the final game of the 1970 Football World Cup.
Brian Starcade, prophet, lover; born 1931, died 2012. The wake promises to be the social event of the summer.

Tallisker Yoplait, who has died of unnecessary yodelling aged 49, was a scrub.
Born in County Whippet, near Elfharm, Yoplait spent much of his youth talking about what he wanted and just sitting on his broke ass. This activity carried on into his adult years, much to the dismay of those close to him.
After leaving school in 1980, Yoplait continued to live at home with his momma. During this time he found it hard to find gainful employment, as a great deal of his time was spent hanging out of the passenger side of his best friend’s ride, trying to holler at women. The women were, for the most part, unimpressed with his behaviour, often saying that they didn’t want him, and that he would get no love from them.
When not hanging out of the passenger side of his best friend’s ride, Tallisker’s own lack of car ownership meant that he was walking. This further cemented his scrub status.
Yoplait’s 30s were characterised as a time when potential beaus did not want his number. They were also not prepared to give him theirs. Furthermore, during this stage in his life, women did not want to meet him nowhere and they did not want none of his time.
Friends often spoke of Tallisker’s habit of checking a young lady, despite the fact that his game was kinda weak and she knew that he could not approach her. Many friends also mentioned that during these times, Yoplait was looking like trash, which was in direct opposition to the young lady, who was looking like class.
Rarely, if ever, would the young lady get with his dead-beat ass.
That said, despite Yoplait’s being a scrub, there were times in his life when he did indeed have a shorty. During these times, however, he showed no love to the shorty. Opinion is divided as to whether Yoplait’s scrub status was the cause of this.
Ever the scrub, even in the latter years of his life, Yoplait still attempted to get with women despite having no money. It seems that in his final days, he was still operating under the delusion that he was fly.
Tallisker Yoplait, scrub, born 1962, died 2012. He was also known as a Buster.

Big John Shatterstone has died. We don’t rightly know his age, but he were 80 if he were a day. Sure as the nose on your face, Big John’s seen some things in those years of his, I tell thee.
Tall as two horses and twice as handsome, old Big John didn’t come from no weak stock, that’s for sure. His fists were the size of eight guinea pigs, and were just as industrious. His shoulders were broad enough for jilted lovers to jump off, while his legs had the circumference of an oversized novelty gold-wrapped chocolate coin.
In fact, all of Big John’s body parts were comparable to things that are normally larger than those body parts.
Legend has it that Big John Shatterstone were once walking through Dinglefell forest when a stranger appeared from nowhere and challenged him to arm wrestle. Never one to back down, John said ‘Aye’. As they were fighting, arms locked, with their elbows on a tree stump, John saw horrific creatures appear from the forest and watch the two of ‘em. The legend goes that after three hours of back and forth, John finally pushed his opponent’s hand to the stump. His opponent screamed out in pain about a lost soul and ran off into the forest, while the creatures vanished. Depending on whoever’s telling the legend, the stranger was either Satan or King George V.
Big John were followed everywhere by his trusty dog, Enkidu. Tall as a six-inch rock sitting on top of a three-foot-tall cupboard, Enkidu was as gentle with children as he was vicious with vagabonds. Whenever Big John came to town, people would always comment that he owned the handsomest Labradoodle in the region.
Once, Big John were first on the scene when an orphanage had caught fire. In and out of the building he ran, grabbing screaming children and the like, carrying them to safety. As the building finally collapsed, one kid were still inside, and he perished. Big John spent ten years hunting down members of the fire’s family, killing them off one by one.
As the owner of the finest collection of miniature Japanese bonsai trees in the county, Big John had cultivated some of the most delicate and fragile tiny trees known to man. With branches the size of pigeons’ feet and leaves the size of tears falling from a colicky baby’s face, the trees offered John solace from the world outside, a brief moment of quiet contemplation in an otherwise unruly life.
Big John Shatterstone, born at some point (almost definitely), died 2012. His funeral will have no frills or fripperies.

Cameron Camstab, who has died of flagrant benevolence aged 62, was an internationally recognised babysitter who achieved success at both heavyweight and middleweight levels. Her career record of 81 wins (46 of them by knockout) and 12 losses, with 4 split decisions, remains one of the best in the history of babysitting.
Born in Goitwich, Fonfoncester, Cameron felt like an outcast in her family, partly due to the fact that many of her older relatives seemed like they were from another generation. Indeed, half of them were from a completely different gender to hers. For this reason, she became somewhat of a tearaway.
Petty criminality led to weighty criminality, and in 1965, before she had turned 16, Camstab found herself in front of a judge for impersonating a chair. He gave her a choice: join a character-building social group, or go to prison. She chose the former, and immediately started training as a babysitter.
Under the tutelage of famed babysitting trainer Gordon McAchno, Camstab developed into a formidable babysitter. With a dominant left hook, excellent stamina, and a definite no-nonsense approach to bedtime, she rose through the local ranks, winning as many plaudits as she did matches.
In her first regional competitive bout, Cameron faced the highly-fancied Gumthorpe Twins. Despite nearly succumbing to their clinical tantrum technique, she prevailed through aggression, nifty footwork, and the threat of “no dessert if you don’t behave”.
In 1968, Camstab got her first shot at an international middleweight title. Victory came in just two rounds, with her opponents, Molly and Sam Bagshaw, defeated by technical knockout. She held the belt for three years, until a controversial judging decision in Las Vegas gave the title to the US-based Gadspur family.
After her loss, Camstab turned her attention to the heavyweight division. Her first bouts were not promising, with a particularly bad loss to a 92-pound 8 year old girl causing many to doubt her ability. But she switched trainers to the more progressive Jock McHarrrghy, and her heavyweight babysitting prowess returned. She won the title in the fabled “Childminding in the Jungle” bout in Equatorial Guinea in 1974.
Camstab announced her retirement in 1983. She spent several years on the talkshow circuit and became a commentator for the BBC’s Saturday Night World of Babysitting show. She briefly came out of retirement for a lucrative match against the enfant terrible of the babysitting world, 1-year-old Honeywell Smitts, in 1987. A shadow of her former self, Camstab was beaten by a fifth-round poop explosion.
Cameron Camstab, former world champion babysitter, born 1949, died 2012. All flags will be flown at half mast from this Thursday until the third week in October.

Greek deity Epithemus has died at the age of around 8000 years. He had been suffering from a long battle with cultural relevance.
Epithemus was born when his father, Silenas the God of Unfathomably Large Hats, accidentally spilled his seed into the cosmos after seeing a particularly erotic goose. Some of Gorges’ seed found its way into Demes, the Goddess of Disapproving Eyerolls, and Epithemus burst forth into the world like a crazy supernatural bullet.
In God school, Epithemus excelled at Lightning Boltery and Advanced Vengeance. After graduating, he applied for the vacant position of God of War, but lost out in the final stages of the interview. He attributed this to his answering the question “What are your weaknesses” with “Turning into a bull and harassing human women.”
Epithemus was later given the role of ‘God of Looking like You Know What You’re Doing when You’re Actually Winging it’.
In a famous mishap, Epithemus accidentally shot a life-giving firebolt to earth when he broke wind in Vulcan’s workshop. The bolt raised several humans from the dead, an act that is said to have been the inspiration for the story of Jesus and Lazarus in the Christian religion, and also of the Troma sci-fi horror film Space Zombie Bingo.
After enjoying much of the age when gods and mortals mingled freely, and all of the age of heroes, Epithemus started to suffer from a lack of cultural relevance in the modern era. Speaking in Playgod Magazine in 372 AD, he claimed a lack of concern at his plight. “We’ve got these new boys these days,” he said, “Your Trinity Jesuses and your Allahs, and they’ve made a name for themselves, you know? All credit to them, really. Can’t begrudge them their success at all.”
Epithemus tried to engineer a comeback in the lucrative American market in the sixteenth century, but was beaten out by Jesus, who went on to become a big star in that market. Citing fatigue, the ancient Greek retired to Crete, where he spent his last three centuries growing olives and watching women bathe while disguised as an owl.
Epithemus, God of Looking like You Know What You’re Doing when You’re Actually Winging it, born circa 6000 BC, died 2012. The funeral will be in St. God’s Church; guests are requested not to sacrifice any animals in the car park.
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