This Day in Death

7.27.12: Don Perry, Chick-fil-A Vice President of PR – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 9:18 am July 30, 2012

Perry’s final words were something about how Arby’s Corporate Communications VP John Gray was “a little skunk-dicked bitch.” Dude really took his work home with him, I guess.

Between publicizing their controversial stance on gay marriage, losing their Muppet endorsement (Fozzy is into some shit that can generously be described as “anti-Christian”), lying about said lost endorsement and allegedly creating fake Facebook accounts to defend themselves, few companies can claim to be having the kind of banner year that Chick-fil-A has been experiencing. That banner, of course, reads “throw a lawn dart at my scrotum.”

And now their Public Relations VP, Don Perry, has just up and died. Look, here’s the thing: We don’t get into politics or religion here at the TDiD for the simple reason that the things you, the public, say and believe are totally stupid. If you knew the first thing about anything you wouldn’t have dropped out of community college, you wouldn’t have gotten a calve tattoo of a character from a movie, you wouldn’t refer to baseball caps as “lids,” and you damn sure wouldn’t be reading this dodgy blog.

But, despite all of that, and despite my unwillingness to court easy hits by attacking a company that everyone else is already pigpiling onto for doing the kind of ugly shit that most other companies do every day, it has to be said: Have you Chick-fil-A guys entertained the notion that God maybe thinks you’re kinda dicks? It might not even be the gay thing. Maybe it’s the goofy name that defies all laws of grammar and syntax. Or maybe it’s the creepy way that all of your employees say “my pleasure” every time they do something for you, like some kind of dead-eyed Ned Flanders cabal. Point is, this isn’t normal. The solution will either be a lot of soul-searching and hard work, or, and this is just my personal preference here, petty appeasement to the whims of the id-driven masses. For instance, with Perry gone, you’ll need a new spokesperson. How about hiring a sexy young red-head like Wendy’s did? I swear, that firecracker could dump a vial of anthrax into my Berry Almond Chicken Salad right in front of me and I’d still beg for her number. Hell, if anything that would make me *more* inclined to hit on her. I like ’em feisty.

Source: CBS News

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4.1.12: Guy Whose 14-Year-Old Cousin Got Him in a “Rear Naked Choke Hold” – DEAD! Wait, What?

Filed under: Dead —James @ 8:36 am April 13, 2012

Yes, “rear naked choke hold” was already in my Google Images search history. Why do you ask?


If you’re going to attempt something you watched a WWE star do you should limit yourself to relatively low-risk things, like wearing neon bicep tassels or marrying Brooke Hogan.  Or, at the very least, avoid anything that involves more than two of the words found in the phrase “rear naked choke hold.” Louisiana man Stephan Arceneaux never read that pamphlet at the community college, I guess.

According to St. Charles Parish Sheriff Greg Champagne, Arceneaux had gathered with friends at a home on Murray Hill Drive to watch the pay-per-view event “Wrestlemania 28” on television when he and a 14-year-old cousin began to wrestle on an inflated mattress on the floor. The juvenile, who is 5 feet, 6 inches tall and weighs 110 pounds, placed his arm around the neck of Arceneaux, who was 5 feet, 10 inches tall and weighed 220 pounds, in a move commonly known as a “rear naked choke hold” for 30 to 40 seconds.

Witnesses reported that Arceneaux said he would not give up or “tap out.”

FUCK NO HE DIDN’T. It would’ve made his Tapout shirt painfully ironic, and that’s the kinda East Coast elitist literary device that don’t fly in the bayou. No, down there allegory and synecdoche rule the day, motherfucker!

But at some point, someone noticed that Arceneaux was turning blue and told the youngster to release the hold. When he did, witnesses realized that Arceneaux had stopped breathing and dialed 911, shortly after 10 p.m.

Well, we’ve all learned a lesson here: It’s never a good idea to try to imitate professional wrestling moves. Except for the Bushwacker Walk. That’s just classy. It’s how my father walked down the aisle, you know.



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